by Andi Lee
“The kind trying to get away from his ball and chain,” Frank said, laughing.
“Don’t be upset, lovely.” Everyone was lovely or bab to Alice. “We’re proud your vlog thing is successful. We’re even prouder that your driving business is getting off the ground. But I won’t have my wedding”—she said “my wedding” as though it had nothing to do with Frank—“as the butt of one of your YouTube videos. Okay?”
She took the packet of biscuits, folded the edges closed, and put them back in the cupboard. Liam glared at the back of her head. He hadn’t finished with those. “I wouldn’t even contemplate using your wedding in one of my videos.” He was a bit hurt they’d even thought that.
“Maybe not, but what kind of plus-one would you be bringing, and would we want them at our wedding, eating our very expensive food or in our photos?” Frank looked at Alice with lovesick puppy-dog eyes that made Liam want to vomit. “Let’s be honest, Liam. They’d be in our life much longer than they’d be in yours.”
Liam ground his teeth, desperately wanting to argue but unable to because it was true. Bloody hell. “What about if I took Selena?” Selena was his best friend, and she could be his fake date for the day.
Alice rolled her eyes as she pottered around the kitchen, tidying up the coffee he’d left out. “Selena and Dawn are already invited. What? Don’t you think your friends talk to each other when you’re not around? The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”
“Great. Everyone can take someone apart from me. I’ll be the loner sitting in the corner. I’ll be Baby, only I won’t have Patrick Swayze to come rescue me so we can dance ‘Y.M.C.A.’ together.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how Dirty Dancing ended,” Frank said, eyes sparkling with humour, more resolved. Liam hated that look.
Frank glanced over his head as though getting permission. Liam frowned and turned around to see what Alice was up to, but she just stood next to the fridge writing small notes on the to-do list stuck to the door.
“Look,” Frank said. Liam turned back around. “If you start seeing someone seriously—and by serious, I mean no one-night stands, no hookups, no fuck buddies. If you can prove to me—” Alice coughed. “—prove to us that you are in a serious, committed relationship, then we might change our minds.”
“What am I, a kid?” Liam scowled. He was sure they’d given no one else an ultimatum.
“Well, if you don’t want a plus-one….”
It’s not that he was bothered about taking anyone to their wedding, but it was the principle of the thing. He was going to earn that plus-one, and his date would be in every bloody one of their photos. “No, I do. I’ll do it.”
“It’s not a game,” Alice warned him.
“You’re right. Your wedding isn’t a game.” It was all in the wording. So he couldn’t film at their wedding, but anything before and after was fair.
Chapter Three
THE GREAT Rat-Show Date Hunt
L_ofa_Ride
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Liam decided to go to the National Fancy Rat Show after a subscriber suggested he would find the man of his dreams there. He highly doubted it, but if he could find someone he could stand to be around long enough to keep Frank and Alice happy, then it would be enough.
The rat show was in one of huge halls at the Staffordshire County Showground. It was a sprawling place nestled between rolling hills and lush green trees. Signs pointed the way, but it was self-explanatory—he just followed the people with the rats.
The show was already heaving when he got there, and with Mabel on his shoulder, he went to investigate. He imagined rats doing tricks, jumping through hoops, and dancing like the dogs on Britain’s Got Talent. He was disappointed when all the show rats had to do was sit in a tank and look pretty.
Where was the talent in that?
He moved away from the show rats toward the stalls around the outside of the room where they sold rat-related items. One woman was drawing miniature rat portraits, and another made rat ornaments, while others sold handmade rat treats. One stall in particular stood out with its brightly coloured squares of fabric. He spotted something with Ghostbusters on it and picked it up, realising it was a hammock. The fleece was soft against his hand, and he could picture it hanging in Mabel’s cage. As if she knew what he was thinking, Mabel’s nose twitched and she poked her head from out of his hair.
“Like it, do you?” He turned his face toward her and rubbed his cheek against her fur.
“You a Ghostbusters fan?” the lady behind the stall said with a smile. On her T-shirt she had a sticker of a rat with a speech bubble saying Jan.
“Who doesn’t love Ghostbusters? These hammocks are amazing.” He looked at some of her others, each of them in funky material with bright fleece lining. He felt like a rat-father failure right then, because Mabel’s hammocks were made from cheap pillowcases he’d gotten from Wilkos and hacked into something resembling a square.
“I made a few others in the same fabric, if you wanted matching.” She showed him a large hammock and a pouch that went around his neck so rats could feel safe outside the cage. Mabel was comfortable riding his shoulders, but she might like to chill in one of those.
“Your rat is a sweetie. Can I hold her while you browse? I didn’t bring my boys. Too much other stuff in the car.” She looked at Mabel longingly, and Liam handed her over, hating to see her so sad. “Oh, she is so sweet,” Jan said.
“She really is. I adopted her a few months ago, and she’s really come out of her shell now. I’m thinking of getting her some friends. I read that they like company.” He’d watched so many rat YouTube videos it made him want to start a dedicated channel just for Mabel.
“That’s a great idea. It’s called GMR, you know.”
Liam blinked and frowned. Had he heard her correctly? There was quite a bit of background noise. “GMR?” What was that? Had he caught some rat-related disease? Did he have the plague?
She nodded and smiled as though she were sharing a secret with him. “Get. More. Rats. It’s how we all start. One rat, then three, then five, then twenty. Once you start, you can’t stop.” She laughed, and he grinned along with her in relief.
“How much for these three?” Mabel needed Ghostbuster hammocks in her life.
“Thirty-five pounds for the set. I made them all by hand. And you’re right—they’re much happier with rat friends. You should talk to some of the breeders here. Jamie’s over there. His rats are beautiful. I taught him everything I know. Mind you, he’s got a waiting list a mile long.” She absently sniffed Mabel’s belly. It was only a little strange to see, but Mabel was definitely lapping up the attention, so he didn’t try to rescue her just yet.
“Are you a breeder too?” Liam asked as he handed over money and she reluctantly handed Mabel back.
“I am, but I’m having a bit of a break at the moment because my husband and I will be moving house soon. It’ll be hard enough with eighteen rats, let alone rat kittens.”
She put the hammocks into a bag for him, but Liam put the pouch around his neck and held it up for Mabel to investigate. She sniffed at it, then gingerly stepped inside. He let it hang around his neck, and she nestled down, eyes boggling.
“I think she likes it,” he said. He liked it too. He didn’t have to worry about her slipping off his shoulder.
Jan nodded. “A definite success. You have a good time at the show, you hear? And don’t be a stranger in the community.”
He said his goodbyes and made his way around the show. A cute guy with short brown hair and green eyes smiled at him from over the show tanks. Liam smiled back, and a flicker of interest stirred. He’d almost forgotten why he’d come to the show in the first place. The guy made his way over to Liam, hips swaying as he dodged around the people in his way.
“Hi, I’m Rowan. It’s crazy here, isn’t it? It’s my first time at a show,” he said.
It couldn’t be this easy. Liam thought the chances of finding a
compatible gay man were slim to none, so to have a guy hit on him almost straightaway was a bit of an ego booster.
“Liam. Tell me about it. It’s my first time too. It’s great. Did you see how huge that rat is over there?” Liam pointed behind him, but all he could see now were people. “Did you bring any rats with you?”
Rowan shook his head and gave a little laugh. “No, I don’t have any rats. I did come to find something here, though.”
Liam nodded in understanding. “Are you getting rat kittens from some of the breeders here? I heard Jamie is brilliant.”
Rowan gave a noncommittal answer. “He’s good, yes. It’s so packed in here. Do you want to go get a coffee?” He sounded so eager.
Liam hadn’t finished browsing yet, and he had Mabel with him. And there was something about Rowan that didn’t sit right with him—probably that he hadn’t commented on how amazing Mabel was. But Rowan was cute, and he would look good in Alice’s photos.
He smiled at the thought, and Rowan’s face lit up. But just as he was about to agree to that coffee, Liam saw something from the corner of his eye—a glimpse of familiar curly hair and the low rumbling of a pissed-off voice.
No. It couldn’t be. Surely. Liam smiled and stepped forward. He stared blatantly at the back of his curly hair, and excitement ran through his body. It took him too long to realise that Mr Grumpy wasn’t alone. Not only was he not alone, there was a heated exchange of words going on. Liam knew it was wrong, but he tried to listen anyway.
He couldn’t see Mr Grumpy’s lips move, but he could read his companion’s. He’d always been told never to use his superpowers for evil, but he had a feeling this was an exception.
“Oh. That’s Jamie,” Rowan said.
The world worked in mysterious ways. It must be the same Jamie who Jan had spoken about. He knew that unmistakable hair, had felt that body tangle with his. He stepped around Rowan, all interest lost. “Actually I need to speak with him. Catch you later.”
Even though he only caught one side of the conversation, he guessed what their stifled argument was about. And if he guessed right, then Mr Grumpy was having a bad time.
Interest piqued, Liam tried not to be too excited that Mr Grumpy, aka Jamie the Rat Breeder, was in the process of splitting up from his boyfriend.
That could work very well in his favour. Not even the smidgen of guilt he felt was enough to stop him going over. He had a perfectly good shoulder, and Jamie might be in need of it.
Before he analysed it too much, he stepped behind Jamie and glared at the ex-boyfriend.
The ex-boyfriend’s eyes widened, and as Jamie took a step backwards, Liam cupped Jamie’s shoulders and turned him around, making him gasp. The can of Diet Coke in his hand wobbled dangerously.
“Hello again.” He didn’t know what he was going to say until he said it. “I hear you could have my babies.” Liam winked, and Jamie’s can of Diet Coke flew from his hand and sprayed Liam’s blue jeans. It wasn’t exactly how he expected the conversation to go, but it was a good icebreaker.
Jamie gave a strangled gasp, body tensing as he stepped back. “You. Shit, fuck,” he said as his eyes followed the stain of Diet Coke. He blushed, lips pursed.
“I’m glad you remember me. After all, I want to be the father to some of your fur children.” Once the thought took root, he couldn’t stop playing with it.
Jamie didn’t laugh. He just made another noise in the back of his throat, but at least he didn’t sound pissed off anymore.
The ex watched them, looking puzzled and probably annoyed at being interrupted.
The silence between the three of them was thick, but Liam didn’t feel awkward. He was going to get Jamie out of a shitty situation, and it felt good knowing he could do that.
“You ready to go for that coffee so we can catch up?” Liam was insinuating that he knew Jamie more than he did, but it was fun to watch the different expressions run over the boyfriend’s face. He wasn’t going to be the one who walked away first.
“Yeah… I mean yes. Of course. Okay,” Jamie rambled. Liam laughed low in his chest, slipped an arm around Jamie’s shoulders, tucked him in tight, and walked him away.
“We weren’t finished,” the ex shouted after them. He was a piece of work. Who split up with someone in public? Liam resisted the urge to turn around and give him the finger.
There was nowhere quiet for them to go, nowhere Jamie could compose himself, so Liam steered him outside, toward his car, and motioned him to get in.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to drive off with you and take you to the woods.” But maybe to a wedding….
Jamie slid into the passenger side with a sad laugh. “I’m actually quite good in the woods.” He took a deep breath, leaned back against the headrest, and closed his eyes.
Liam took the time to study him while his eyes were closed. He was leaner than Liam, but solid, with strong arms and wild brown hair that suggested he wasn’t the type to bother with much styling.
When his eyes opened again, he looked mad. “What the fuck did you do that in there for?” Mr Grumpy was back. Good, he liked Mr Grumpy.
Liam shrugged in explanation. “I wanted to apologise to you again for crashing into you. And I don’t like to see a damsel in distress.” He knew that would annoy him.
Jamie scowled at him and dragged his hand through his hair. “I am not a damsel.”
Liam’s lips fought not to curl. Jamie’s anger shouldn’t taste so sweet.
JAMIE COULD not believe he was in a stranger’s car, trying not to cry. And not only that, the stranger just happened to be the arsehole who ran into him the other night outside the escape room.
Could his day get any more shitty? A bubble of hysteria escaped his lips. Better that than sobs, he guessed.
The arsehole shrugged. “Sorry. Seemed like you needed rescuing.”
“I didn’t need rescuing,” he said, anger sharpening his tone. He was a grown man. He could look after himself, even when his boyfriend decided to split up with him after living together for only two months. Was he really that bad to be around?
“I’ve not locked the doors. You can leave if you want.” He took the rat out of her pouch and placed her back in her plastic carrier.
A twinge of guilt made Jamie’s stomach clench. Fuck. “I left my rats unattended.” He’d forgotten all about them. Wouldn’t Paul just love that?
Despite Jamie’s less-than-inviting attitude, his would-be saviour looked up from his rat, concern furrowing his brow. “Want me to nip in and get them?”
Jamie shook his head. With his luck, the guy would come back with two completely different rats. “I’ll just text a friend to look after them.” He fired off a text and noticed the missed calls on his phone.
Tommy. His best friend. Ex-best friend. Jamie swallowed, and something must have shown on his face, because the stranger touched his shoulder. Jamie flinched. He couldn’t take kindness right then. Kindness would break him. The man dropped his hand, and Jamie could breathe.
Or so he thought. He coughed, trying to dislodge the lump at the back of his throat. “I don’t even know who the hell you are… apart from the guy who gave me two skinned knees.” The attempt at a joke fell flat when neither of them laughed.
“My name’s Liam. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I doubt you feel the same.”
That was true. First Liam ran into him when he’d been so angry that Paul and Tommy blew them off at the escape room. Then he had to witness the most humiliating event of his life—surpassing getting his head flushed down the toilet in high school while on the hunt for the elusive blue goldfish.
“I’m Jamie.” There. That was a good attempt at conversation. He’d give himself a pat on the back if he didn’t think he would crack from the pressure.
Liam grinned. “I know. Jamie the Rat Breeder.” He said it as though it were a title or some special ability. If only.
Jamie attempted to give him a small smile, but it twisted, and the te
ars he thought he’d kept at bay so well finally fell down his cheeks. Damn traitorous body.
“It’s okay, buddy. Let it out. He’s a bastard for dumping you, especially in the middle of a crowded room.”
Jamie leaned forward in the passenger seat. The sickeningly sweet smell of Little Trees air freshener made his stomach lurch. He couldn’t look at Liam right then.
Throwing up was not an option. Humiliation twisted with the pain until he thought he would choke on it, and he shouldn’t be crying in some stranger’s car, but he couldn’t make himself leave either. There was something strangely… comforting about crying in front of a stranger rather than friends.
“How did you know he was breaking up with me?” Jamie looked at Liam, vision blurry with tears. He was not a crier. Why was he doing it now?
Liam shrugged, and the leather of his jacket creaked. “I can lip-read.”
Great. He’d heard Paul admit to leaving him for none other than Jamie’s best friend. “That’s a good skill to have.” All the more to humiliate him with.
Today was meant to be a good day for him. He’d been asked to help judge the rat show for the first time. It made him feel he’d made it as a rat breeder, and all he wanted was his boyfriend there to support him. He should have known it would go wrong. Paul hated rats, but Jamie had pushed and badgered, laying on the guilt after Paul stood him up at the zombie escape room.
“I have to go back in there. I’m judging the rat show.” The last thing he wanted was to head back into that hall and put on a fake smile, but he was not going to let Paul take that away from him.
He sat back up, feeling stronger, outwardly at least. Then he blinked the tears away and took a deep, calming breath.
“You’re judging? That is so cool.” Liam truly sounded excited. Why couldn’t Paul sound like that? “I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind. After all, I do still want to talk to you about buying rats.”
Jamie was surprised Liam brought that up; he’d been sure it was just a line. He looked out the window and watched people mill about the car park. When Paul stepped out of the doorway, he tensed.