Lustful Gaze (London Loves #6)

by Julie Farrell

  “Oh, yeah, sure I know. But I’ll be fine in Brighton. I feel much more confident with the physical stuff now.”

  “Well, that’s great. But… what about your heart?”

  “What about my heart?”

  “You’ll need to protect that just as much as your physical body.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m just saying, don’t fall in love, okay?

  Harry scoffed. “I’m Indian – we don’t do that.”

  This news surged through Edward like a cluster bomb. “What? Of course you do.”

  “Love comes for us after marriage. But it’s not the fleeting love of movies. It’s a firm foundation of respect during a lifetime together.”

  “Well that sounds like bullshit.”

  Harry chuckled. “You seem to say that a lot about my Indian customs.”

  “I’m just sayin’…”

  They shared a playful smirk.

  Edward fiddled with his joint. “So are your parents gonna pick someone out for you to marry?”

  “Yep. Because they know best. Or so they say.”

  “Wait a minute, they think they know who you should marry better than you do?”

  Harry seemed resigned. “You wouldn’t understand, Edward.”

  “Maybe not. But I do understand that you shouldn’t be marrying a woman. How the hell are you ever gonna take care of her sexual needs? Or are you gonna ask a couple of gay women if you can sit in – and join in – with them?”

  Dread seeped over Harry’s perfect face. “I hadn’t even thought about that side of things. I honestly have no idea how to please a woman.”

  “Well, you’d better get learning. And what if she doesn’t like you? I guess her parents know best too, right? It sounds like legalised rape to me. Here’s my daughter; do what you want with her – even if you’re actually a fucking homo.”

  Harry winced. “It’s not ideal, is it?”

  “Not really.”

  The atmosphere shifted uncomfortably and Edward realised Harry was thinking of leaving again. “Hey, you wanna come and smoke this with me? Outside?”

  “Is that cannabis?”

  “Yeah. Don’t tell me, your caste aren’t allowed to smoke pot either, huh?”

  Harry chuckled mischievously. “Actually, I think we can. But I should go.”

  “Okay. Well, I guess you got what you came for.”

  Harry raised an eyebrow. Edward smirked.

  They both looked over to the bed and saw that Scott and Paul had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Harry stood up and gazed at that them like a parent watching his sleeping children. Then he grabbed a blanket from the stiletto-shaped chair and draped it over them. Edward’s heart filled with affection – Harry was a great guy as well as hot and handsome. It wasn’t fair what had been planned for him. Especially not as Edward wanted him so badly.

  Edward stood up “I’ll come with you so I can go outside and smoke my joint.”

  “Okay.”

  Edward opened the bedroom door and gestured for Harry to walk out to the dimly-lit hallway. He followed him to the front door, then Harry stopped and turned on the doormat.

  “Well, Edward, I’m sure I’ll see you before I leave for university.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  Harry turned and opened the door. Then he turned back and inhaled to say something, but he faltered. Edward was desperate to ask him out for a drink, but it was pointless. Even if Harry did like him – which was highly unlikely – it could never work. Harry was a prince compared to him. Would he ever consider a relationship with a rent boy? Former rent boy. Of course not.

  They gazed shyly into each other’s eyes. Forces beyond his control propelled Edward to lean forward and kiss Harry on the cheek. His skin was smooth and warm.

  “You did well tonight,” Edward said. “I’m sure the next guy you… well, your first guy won’t be disappointed.”

  “Thank you, Edward.”

  Harry reached up and squeezed him on the shoulder, sending tingles down his arm. Then, to Edward’s joyful amazement, Harry leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on the lips. Stars of elation exploded in Edward’s brain. His heart soared, melting with the universe. He opened his mouth to ask what that was for, but Harry interjected.

  “Goodnight, Edward. Hope to see you again soon.”

  Harry raised a suggestive eyebrow, then he walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Edward stared at nothing in shock for a moment, wondering whether to run after Harry and take the kiss further. But his shaking legs wouldn’t allow him to take another step. So instead, he leaned his joy-filled body against the door, grinning and relishing the feeling of floating above reality.

  Edward had been here once before, but never this intensely. He tried to yank himself back to a more sensible mind-set – knowing this was ridiculous – but his thoughts surged back to Harry – refusing to let him go. Excitement flashed through his prickling bones.

  “Oh no,” he said. “Don’t fall for him – not the guy who’s been promised to a woman.”

  He stood up straight and stared at himself in the ornate hall mirror. He grinned at his reflection. “Too late. Already fallen.”

  His brow crumpled with sadness at the love he could never have. But then he smiled. There was a place he could have Harry – as much and as often as he pleased. He swaggered off to the spare room – his bedroom – then he flopped onto the bed, where he stuck his hand down his pants, and sunk into a fantasy world, hoping that love would triumph in the end.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next day over breakfast, Paul announced to Edward that they were taking the morning off work.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve booked you an appointment to see my doctor.”

  Edward’s experience of healthcare thus far had always been of the state-funded variety. But this private medical experience was like stepping into an alternative universe. The Harley Street building was grand and imposing – the entrance reminded Edward of a suave hotel, like the Savoy. The checkerboard steps led to a pair of foreboding black wooden doors that reminded Edward of Doctor Who’s Tardis.

  Paul pressed the gold doorbell, and a smartly-dressed young woman opened the door, smiling serenely. “Hello, Mr Taylor. Come in!”

  “Thanks – I really appreciate you squeezing us in today.”

  “Oh, you’re very welcome.”

  They stepped into the echoey hall. “This is Edward,” Paul said.

  The woman gazed kindly at him. “Ah yes, hello, Edward. Today you’re being tested for chlamydia, gonorrhoea, HIV, and syphilis. Please take a seat. The doctor will be out soon.”

  Edward unglued his feet and wandered through an archway towards the waiting room – which was more like the lounge of an aging aristocrat, with its shiny floorboards, leather sofas, and magazine-strewn coffee table. Edward glanced at the magazines as he traipsed past – Home and Country, Good Housekeeping, and Horse and Groom. Probably he’d pass on the light reading for now.

  He flopped down onto the hard squeaky leather and tried to get comfortable. Paul sat with him and busied himself with some work on his ipad. Luckily, the doctor didn’t keep Edward waiting long. She was a gruff middle-aged woman, without a maternal bone in her body – as Edward found out by spending the next two hours with her in her oppressive office. It reminded him of the head-teacher’s office at his old high school, where he often got sent as a teen for being disruptive – after finishing his schoolwork before everyone else.

  The doctor didn’t make any attempts to make him feel comfortable – when she instructed him to relax and unclench, he was unable to oblige without forcing his eyes shut and floating off to a happier place. It was all so mechanical. First she gave him a plastic pot to pee in for a urine test, then she took a cheek swab and asked him to spit into another plastic pot for a saliva test. Then he was asked to lie down on the bed naked so she could do an anal swab… He was sure none of this wa
s necessary, but rather she wanted to make sure he practised safe sex in the future. Then, just when he thought he might be free, there was the blood test – involving a very long needle. And a finger prick test for HIV. And she saved the best for last by groping his testicles as she sat in front of his prodded-and-poked body.

  “Relax!” she barked.

  “It’s quite difficult. My bollocks are in your hand.”

  “Oh, tosh. This is merely a routine genital examination.”

  “Right. Well, I hope they’ve passed.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  She freed Edward’s testicles and removed her glasses. “Everything seems okay here. Get dressed and sit in the waiting room. We’ll be out with the results as soon as possible.”

  Edward plodded back to join Paul, who was sitting on the leather sofa, still typing on his ipad. There was an empty sandwich wrapper on the seat beside him, and a thumbed-through copy of The Guardian.

  “Okay?” Paul asked, wincing at Edward’s discomfort.

  Edward flopped down to join him. “That’s not something I’d like to experience again in a hurry.”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “I know – thank you for organising it.”

  “Well, I want you to have normal relationships whenever you’re ready, so it’s important to get these things sorted now.”

  “It is.” Edward wondered who’d be his next man. Was this really the end of his life as a sex worker? Would he ever meet anyone as wonderful as Harry? He tried to suppress his grin, but he couldn’t, and the unrequited love he felt for Harry burst through, eradicating his doctor-induced frustration.

  He giggled involuntarily.

  “You’re in a good mood,” Paul said.

  Edward shrugged. “It’s always nice to find out you haven’t got chlamydia, right.”

  “Oh, did they tell you that one straight away?”

  “Yep. I’m chlamydia-free. One down, three to go.”

  They shared a tender smile. Paul lowered his voice. “Last night was interesting, wasn’t it!”

  Edward beamed. “You sure are one lucky guy.”

  “I know. Scott’s everything to me.”

  “Oh, I meant…”

  Edward looked away. He could feel his cheeks blushing, making him feel awkward.

  “Ah, I see,” Paul said. “You’ve got the hots for a certain young man, have you?”

  Edward fought to control his smile. “Maybe. But I’m not stupid enough to think he’d be interested in me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s… and I’m… Nah. Anyway he’s going to uni soon. And he’s gotta marry a woman.”

  “Yeah, Scott told me about that. Poor guy.”

  Edward leaned closer. “Paul, don’t tell anyone, but Harry kissed me when he left last night.”

  Paul’s smiling mouth dropped open. “Well that means something surely!”

  “I dunno. I know where his lips had been just prior to that kiss!”

  Paul sniggered. “That was different. He’d wanted to get some practise in.”

  “Maybe he just wanted kissing practise, too.”

  “Hmm… well, how did he kiss you? You don’t have to show me – just tell me!”

  “He kissed me once on the lips.” Edward held his hand at face height and kissed it. “Like a goodnight kiss.”

  “Well, you don’t need practise to do that. But you do need a motivation. I don’t wanna get your hopes up, because I’ve no idea if he likes you, but why don’t you ask him out?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Paul.”

  “Go on. You can have the rest of the day off. Go to the art gallery and ask him to come for a walk with you. It’s a beautiful day. Go somewhere private and have a chat.”

  “I dunno… Where would we go?”

  Paul shrugged. “How about Hampstead Heath? What’s the worst he can do? Say no. But at least you’ll know you asked, right?”

  Edward’s chest fizzled with optimism. “Alright. I’ll do it. Seize the moment, huh?”

  “Exactly.”

  Paul opened his mouth to add something else, but the doctor strode out of her office and approached them like a Stormtrooper. She plonked herself down next to Edward on the sofa.

  Edward held his breath…

  Her stern face broke into a smile. “All results came back negative. Here are some leaflets on safe sex. Make sure you study them well. I don’t want to see you back here. Right?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was inconceivable to Edward that only a week ago he’d been scratching out a living by selling mouth-fucks to needy men. But now… here he was in Chelsea, heading towards Scott’s art gallery, about to ask his dream man out for a drink. How had he got so lucky? He’d been taken in by two of the kindest and most generous men he’d ever known. And now he was falling in love with Harry. Surely his good fortune was about to run out. But maybe it was worth a shot...

  The sun was shining peacefully in Chelsea today, and the cooling air-con hit him like a chilly curtain as he wandered into the art gallery. The sound of hysterical laughter seized his attention and he saw that – well away from the exhibition – Scott and Harry had been doing some painting, and were now trying to smear each other’s faces with their paint-covered hands. Scott smeared yellow paint into Harry’s cheek and he shrieked. They both giggled.

  Edward stood there awkwardly watching, wishing he could join in the frivolity – and touch his dream man like Scott was.

  “Mind my hair!” Harry shouted.

  Scott laughed. “Oo, sorry, Harry Hairspray!”

  They both laughed hard at this. Then Scott glanced up and noticed Edward loitering by the door.

  He tried to compose himself. “Hi, Edward!”

  Harry spun to face Edward and grinned shyly. He looked adorable with yellow paint smeared over his face – it was as if he’d been tarnished; sullied by Scott. It was tantalisingly subversive. Edward’s lust rushed into his pants and he shifted his weight, trying to hide his arousal.

  Scott drifted over to greet Edward, hugging him loosely and making him feel welcome. Harry slipped behind the counter to grab some kitchen roll, which he moistened under the tap, then rubbed against his face, wiping off the splodge of yellow.

  “I got the all-clear at the clinic,” Edward said.

  “Paul told me!” Scott said. “It’s brilliant!”

  “News travels fast, huh?” Edward said.

  “Paul tells me most things.”

  “Really?” Edward glanced at Harry. He lowered his voice. “Even things I’ve asked him not to tell anyone?”

  “I shouldn’t think so – but then I wouldn’t know, would I?”

  “True.” Edward craned around Scott and gazed at the man who’d become his obsession. “Um, Harry can I talk to you, please?”

  Harry smiled casually and continued to wipe his face. “Sure.”

  “Er… Would you like to go for a walk… um, alone?”

  Harry grinned. “I’d love to. Is that okay, Scott?”

  “Course. Why don’t you take a couple of hours? There’s not much going on around here. I’ll clear up the paint and stuff.”

  “Thank you, Scott.”

  Edward waited nervously – feeling his heart twist like a meat-grinder – as Harry finished wiping his cheek clean. Then he grabbed his wallet, sunglasses, and phone.

  Edward opened the door for him then glanced back at Scott. Scott threw him a thumbs-up and a wink. Edward’s knees filled with lead and his insides looped with terror – what the fuck was he doing!

  He felt as if he was in a movie, and the journey to Hampstead Heath was like a passage-of-time scene. First they were walking down the street, chatting casually about the clinic. Edward forced himself to be brave and subtly linked his fingers through Harry’s – Harry glanced at him; they smiled. On the crowded underground train, Edward sat in the only vacant seat. He was mesmerised by Harry, who was leaning against the train
wall, gazing into space behind his shades – making him look super-cool. Edward couldn’t take his eyes off this gorgeous young man – he was smitten. Edward noticed that there was a young woman checking Harry out, too, and his chest swelled with pride; he’s with me, sister!

  The train juddered to a halt, and the guy next to Edward stood up to leave, so Harry sat down next to him. Pretending to stretch, Edward reached out and possessively draped his arm behind Harry’s seat, avoiding the discarded newspapers strewn across the air vent. Edward leaned his face towards Harry’s ear and whispered, “Don’t look, but that girl opposite can’t take her eyes off you.”

  Harry glanced at the girl. Edward looked over, too. She grinned – hopefully getting the message that these two were more than just friends. The train jolted and Edward’s arm accidentally slipped off the air vent and around Harry’s shoulders.

  They smiled at each other. Edward lost himself in Harry’s eyes for a while, as the train rumbled off. They chatted some more, about last night, about Brighton, and about the play-fight he’d just been having with Scott at the gallery. As he realised that the train had stopped again, Edward absent-mindedly dragged his gaze away from Harry and glanced at the platform outside. A bolt of realisation jabbed him and he jumped to his feet, grabbing Harry’s hand. “Oh shit, this is Hampstead!”

  They ran giggling from the train as the doors swept shut behind them, then they made their way to the exit, full of flashing adrenaline. At the main entrance gate to the Heath, Edward spotted a homeless man sitting slumped against a wall. He looked hungry and tired. Edward dug into the pocket of his jeans and dropped a couple of pound coins into the man’s hat. He mumbled a thank you.

  They strolled in the sunshine across the grass. Harry frowned. “Won’t he probably spend it on drugs?”

  Edward shrugged. “Probably, but so what? He’s hungry – his life has no meaning. Do you expect him to sit there and meditate on his empty stomach?”

  Harry nodded. “I never thought of it like that. I was told ‘do not give money to homeless people in UK because they spend it on drink and drugs’. I never considered that it might actually be okay for them to do that.”