Page 68 of Total Creative Control

There weren’t many people in this world he’d do that for, but yeah, Aaron was up there.

Hecouldn’tlose him.

“Look,” Lewis pleaded, stepping forward and holding his palms out in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sure you're wishing this hadn’t happened just as much as I am. I really don’t want to spoil our working relationship.No onegets me like you do, Aaron.” His voice cracked on the last few words. He had to clear his throat before he added, “Please. Can we just forget it happened?”

Please, please, please don’t leave.

Aaron dropped his head into his hands, rubbing at his temples with his long fingers. Lewis wished he could see his expression. Wished he knew what Aaron was thinking.

“Aaron?”

At last, Aaron raised his head. He still looked unhappy, but it was a resigned sort of unhappiness now—not the I’m-leaving-you kind, and Lewis felt the tightness in his chest ease a fraction.

“Can you pass me my clothes?” Aaron said.

Lewis circled the bed, picking up Aaron’s things from the floor, then handing the whole bundle over. He turned away tactfully while Aaron dressed.

“The meeting with Charlie’s at ten,” Aaron said after a minute.

Lewis turned to find him more or less fully dressed, though his shirt wasn’t completely buttoned, and he held his waistcoat in one hand and his shoes in the other.

“Right,” Lewis said. “In his office—collaboration space, I mean.” He gave a weak, crooked smile, but Aaron didn’t return it.

“Okay. At least that gives us both a couple of hours to get back into the right headspace.” He met Lewis’s gaze, and he looked so fuckingsad—Lewis wanted to go to him and pull him into a rough hug. Whisper in his ear,It’s okay.

But he didn’t. He just stood there in miserable silence, while Aaron said, “You’re right. We’ll forget this ever happened. No need to mention it again.”

Aaron turned and headed for the door.

“Aaron—”

He stopped but he didn’t turn around.

“What?” he said, his voice oddly strangled.

Lewis realised he didn’t know what he wanted to say then. He couldn’t saythank you, orlast night was amazing, oryou’re so beautiful, or any of the things that were going through his mind as he stared at the man he’d taken to bed last night.

So he just said, “I’ll give you a knock before we go down.”

“Sure,” Aaron said, and then he was gone, leaving Lewis staring at the closed door.

* * *

At ten to ten, Lewis stood at his window, gazing out at the morning.

Overnight, a soggy blanket of drizzle had crept in, and now it sagged miserably over the countryside. As an example of pathetic fallacy, it was so on the nose that he’d never stoop to using it in a script. Nevertheless, it rather accurately reflected his bleak mood.

After Aaron had left, Lewis had stood for a long time in the intensely silent room, contemplating the detritus of the previous night. The sight of the food wrappers and their empty mugs of hot chocolate had stung in a way he hadn’t wanted to think about, but eventually, it had prodded him into action. He’d shoved everything into the bin, straightened the bedclothes, and erased all evidence of last night’s...misjudgment.

Then he’d taken a long hot shower, using Charlie’s expensive and overly fragranced products to ensure no scent of Aaron lingered on his skin or in his hair.

If only it was as easy to wash away his memories.

Moments from their night together kept coming back in unexpected flashes of feeling or sensation: the warmth of Aaron’s pliant body beneath his hands, his trusting responsiveness, the swooping dive in Lewis’s belly when their lips first touched.

And the sadness in Aaron’s eyes when he’d left, the gnawing fear—the terror—that Lewis had damaged something beyond repair.

What a fucking idiot he’d been to let things go so far.