The Summer of Us

by Lily Morton

  I sit up slightly, putting my hand on his chest. “Do I care what people think? No I don’t, because I didn’t have a life before and now I do. Now, I have a chance at a life that I never dreamt of and I can spend it with you.” I shrug. “Am I going to let a few mindless idiots spoil it? Am I fuck? They can go fuck themselves.”

  Matt laughs suddenly and pats me affectionately. “Oh Johnny I can see at least one area in our lives that is going to be improved by your vast reservoir of arrogance.”

  I come back down to him, bending to drop a kiss on his wide, warm chest. “Our lives,” I whisper. “I like the sound of that. I never thought that my life could be like this. So safe and warm. All my life I’ve been looking for that feeling. I bought house after house but I never found it.”

  He lifts his hand tangling his long fingers in my hair, his expression so tender and open and warm. “Sweetheart that’s love that you’re describing, not a property portfolio.”

  I smile and touch his face. “Then I got it wrong all this time because my home is you. I should have just looked for you.”

  “Well you’ve found me so what are you going to do with me?”

  I stare at his scruffy face and his warm eyes that are bracketed by laugh lines that will get deeper as the years go by, and I have never felt such a strong certainty of my way forward. “I’m going to keep you,” I whisper.

  Epilogue

  Song: ‘Hard to Concentrate’ by The Red Hot Chili Peppers

  Two Years Later

  Matt

  I enter the elevator in John’s office building and fall back against the side of it, loosening my tie with a weary sigh. I’ve been away with Bram and the boys in New York for the last two weeks, and the minute that I got back today I’d been plunged into a day of meetings and a catch up with my partner Lana.

  I’d taken her on when I realised that the thing with John and I was serious, and he’d pointed out that if I was encouraging him not to live to work then I had to do the same. He was right as usual and she took to being a partner like a duck to water, and now when I leave work for a few days or longer I do so in the knowledge that the business is running smoothly and I do the same for her. The result has been that business is booming.

  I check my reflection quickly in the mirrored wall. I’m wearing a steel blue coloured suit with a blue and white spotted tie and my hair is pulled back in a stubby ponytail, but what stands out is the look of happiness and excitement on my face. It wears it all the time now and it’s because of John. For the first time I’m in a relationship where we come first with each other, and I feel free and tied at the same time. I imagine that it’s the same feeling that a helium balloon would have, full of fizz and energy.

  Don’t get me wrong we argue, of course we do. We’re two strong men with our own opinions, and one of us is entirely convinced that he’s always right. But we’ve learnt to argue without dealing emotional blows. We’ve learnt that no matter what’s said we will still end up wrapped in each other in our sheets at night, because one of the first rules that we laid down was that we always slept in the same bed. No matter how bad the argument is we always lie down together and the make-up sex is explosive. Our whole sex life is fantastic. We’re as hot for each other as we were at the beginning, and I can’t help that kernel of satisfaction in me that I will always be his first and only.

  I’d moved in with him after only a couple of months of dating and it was as if we’d always been together, the adjustment being seamless. We’d quickly realised that we wanted a home that we could make our own, so we’d put our flats up for sale and bought a flat in an old grain storage building in Shad Thames, overlooking Tower Bridge. It had needed some work done to it so once again I’d found myself project managing a renovation, only this time for the most important project in my life. I certainly never saw that coming two years ago.

  Now the flat is amazing with polished oak flooring, exposed brick walls and huge windows looking down on the River Thames. Pride of place has of course been given to the abstract painting that he’d bought that day in Vence when we’d slept together for the first time. The sentimental memories make my opinion of it a little less harsh, but only just.

  The elevator bell dings and the doors open pulling me from my thoughts, and I start the walk to John’s office exchanging greetings with his colleagues. They all know who I am because John has never hidden my presence in his life, and while we don’t rub our relationship in people’s faces he has never been shy of touching me or being close.

  I come to Carol’s desk smiling at the heaps of paperwork all over it. John may have eased up on the work hours but he’s never eased up on the workload. “Matty,” she exclaims, and I step forward to give her a hug. I love Carol because she’s so motherly and warm and guards John like he’s her son.

  “Brought you something back,” I say, placing some Chanel perfume and a box of Richart Gourmet chocolates on the desk.

  “Matty you shouldn’t have love, but I’m not going to say no. I love these.”

  “I know, Johnny said so.”

  She smiles and grabs my hand squeezing. “He’ll be so glad that you’re back. He’s been like a bear with a sore paw the last few days, with a mood to match.”

  I pull a face, sitting comfortably on the corner of her desk and swinging my legs to the obvious horror of one of John’s students who run in fear of him. “Oh dear that sounds painful.”

  She chuckles, grabbing me a bottle of water from the fridge near her desk. “He told Anthony Stanton from the university that he had the legal expertise of Winnie the Pooh, and a client that if the client thought that he knew better than John, then he should hire himself and be happy taking legal advice from an idiot.”

  I burst out laughing and the door to John’s office pulls open sharply. We both turn our waiting faces as he ushers out some men in suits. He’s wearing a pale grey three piece suit with a claret coloured tie, and he looks stern and distant. However, his face for a second when he first sees me makes the trip away almost worth it, being comprised of utter joy and relief.

  He quickly schools his expression as the men turn to him with a question, but as they move past me he runs his hand up my shoulder sneakily tugging on the ends of my hair. “Get in my office,” he murmurs, and then sweeps past me to the elevators.

  “Well hello to you too,” I grin as Carol giggles, and giving her a kiss I wander into the office shutting the door behind me. I smile at the sight of the desk which still faces away from the view. I’d put my foot down about the view business when I moved in with him and insisted that the desks in his study at home and in France face the window. He’d given in on that but insisted solemnly that he should be framed by the city when he meets clients. Apparently first impressions count when you’re paying a fuckton of money per hour.

  I notice a photo frame on his desk and pull it towards me and then smile as I see a picture of the two of us. It’s a black and white taken by Sid in Ibiza. It’s captured us close up, heads together. I’m laughing at something but it’s his face that catches my attention because he’s looking at me and smiling, and those lines at the side of his eyes are elongated from frequent smiling which I’d longed to see when I first got to know him.

  I look around curiously, always keen to see what he’s added to his office. When I first came in here when we got back from France it was a rich looking room with expensive furnishings, but totally sterile. Nobody looking around would have had a clue about the life that he led.

  Now the clues are dotted all over the floor to ceiling shelves against the back wall. There’s a pot with bright gilded stripes from a weekend in Positano, a backstage pass for Elbow which is draped over a photo of us at Coachella, and a handful of brightly coloured poker chips from a week in Vegas. I smile at the thought of that week. We’d done a bit of gambling, but a large portion of the time had been spent rolling around in the massive bed in our suite. As John had put it, strip poker is still gambling. There are also photos of the
two of us and our friends dotted everywhere, telling a story about a man who now leads a rich fulfilled life full of friends and laughter and love.

  The sound of the door clicking open makes my heart speed up and I look up in time to see John lock the door. “My goodness Johnny this is a place of work,” I taunt, throwing his comment back that he’d given me when I first set foot in here.

  He smiles in recognition. “Didn’t stop me fucking you on that desk,” he says fondly and then in two strides he’s on me, wrapping his arms around me and breathing in deeply. He kisses me deeply, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and groaning, before pushing his head into my neck and inhaling. “God I fucking missed you so much,” he groans. “Two weeks is too long sweetheart. Let’s not do that again. I’ll come out to you to break it up next time.”

  “You’d do that?” I ask wonderingly, running my hands through his hair which is curling slightly at the ends.

  “Of course I would,” he says stoutly. “I can’t be without you like that again. Everything was so quiet and tidy and still.”

  “That makes me sound like a tornado of mess and noise.”

  He shrugs. “Take it as it’s said.” Then he curls away laughing as I punch him lightly.

  I catch my breath at the sight of those bright blue eyes and his wide mouth laughing and pull him to me. “God I missed you too,” I say quietly. “Let’s definitely do that. I didn’t sleep properly because the bed was so big and cold, and I turned round a thousand times a day to tell you something funny. It’s not quite as funny without you.”

  “I love you,” he whispers, and then he’s kissing me and we stand burrowing into each other, our hands moving and grabbing. I feel his weight and warmth against me and I moan, sending my hands burrowing under his shirt to find the sleek skin stretched taut over his muscles. We stay that way for a while taking comfort in the other until he moves away slightly.

  “Phone sex was fucking good though,” he says cheekily, and I laugh.

  “Not as good as what you’ll get tonight.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  “Yes, a promise and a certainty. Are you packed for the weekend?” I ask, looking around the room and he nods.

  “Bag’s in the car sweetheart. I packed you one too.” He checks his watch and I smile because along with the titanium Breitling watch which is such a symbol of his position, he’s wearing the leather bracelet that I bought for him in Cornwell and he never takes off. It has discreet silver beads threaded along it which are engraved with our names and the date that we came together in France, as well as a tiny hammer, a boat and even a first aid symbol, all symbols of the start of our relationship.

  He looks up at me. “Are you ready to go?”

  “My God it’s only two in the afternoon. No last minute deeds to peruse? No students to frighten?” I ask mockingly and he laughs.

  “No, I crossed those things off my check list at eleven this morning. We’re good to go.”

  I let him grab my hand and pull me to the door. “Someone’s in a hurry. What’s the rush?”

  Something passes too quickly over his face for me to work out, and then he smiles almost nervously. “I just want to get there Matty. You know that I love it.”

  I stare at him hard because he’s hiding something, but then I give up because he does love the Cornish house. We go there every weekend, and although he’s never got on with surfing he has developed a fondness for photography and he and Sid always have their heads together looking at the latest cameras.

  When we’re in Cornwall and I’m surfing he’s either photographing something or has his head stuck in a book which now tends to be non-work related. But wherever I am so is he, and the closeness suits us. We’re our own team, backing each other up and drawing strength from the other’s presence.

  “Okay then speedy let’s go.”

  “I’ll give you speedy tonight,” he growls into my neck as I pass and I shiver.

  “Not something that you should be bragging about.”

  He laughs. “Don’t worry I’ll take my time with you. It’s been a long couple of weeks. I have a lot of pent up sexual tension to take out on someone.”

  “I’m volunteering,” I moan as his hands come up clutching my hips and shoving his hard cock against my back.

  “Not volunteering. You’re conscripted.” He pushes me out of the office waving goodbye to Carol and anyone around, but with his warm hand at my back keeping constant contact with me the way that he always does when I’ve been away, as if reassuring himself that I’m back again.

  John

  He falls asleep somewhere outside Exeter and doesn’t wake up until I pull the car up in the small parking area outside the house where we have a designated space. He sits up stretching, and then reaches over to give me a deep kiss and an absentminded grope.

  “We’re here already. Why didn’t you wake me babe? We could have shared the driving.”

  I shake my head. “You were knackered love and I don’t mind the driving. It lets me decompress a bit, and get my relaxed head on and put work away.” He likes that because he smiles. He’d insisted when we got together that work was work, but life is life and it takes precedence. He doesn’t mind the hours that I work as long as I park my arse on a chair next to him to eat dinner, and that when I’m with him, I’m with him. I’d used this journey however to try to calm my nerves about the talk that I want to have.

  He distracts me from that thought when he rotates his neck and yawns. “Fuck I’m hungry.”

  I smile. “Great minds think alike,” and I motion to the back seat. He cranes over and cheers.

  “Fucking hell, fish and chips. Best idea yet.”

  “I have far too many for you to choose from,” I remind him modestly, and he laughs.

  “Where shall we eat them?”

  I nod down at the beach where the sun has gone down, leaving a wild twilight sky of lemon and lilac. “Where else?”

  “Perfect,” he smiles. “Are the towels in the back?”

  I nod and he gets out to get them while I gather the bags of salty selling food, and then we traipse down the hill to the beach with his arm slung companionably round my shoulders, a familiar and beloved weight that always makes me happy.

  Pausing only to take our shoes and socks off we wander over to what we now call our spot where we always gravitate to on the weekends. The beach is mainly deserted now apart from some dog walkers moving away in the distance. He laughs looking at our expensive suits. “We look like a right couple of townies.”

  “Shut up and eat,” I smile chucking him his bag, and we fall on our food eating hungrily while we catch up with each other’s news and he tells me funny stories from the promotion tour. When he’s finished eating he grabs the wrappers putting them into a carrier bag, and then lies down with a deep happy sigh putting his head into my lap. For a while we both stare out to sea at the now melon and indigo sky, feeling the salty breeze in our faces and listening to the cries of the hungry gulls as they ride on the wind.

  Previously I let life pass by, seizing and celebrating only the victories, but now with him every day contains another memory that I want to hoard. I love him utterly and deeply beyond anything that I’ve ever felt for a living person, and he makes me happy beyond anything that I believed I was capable of feeling.

  He sighs contentedly. “I can’t believe that two years ago we were on this beach and I was listening to your insane babblings.”

  I snort out a laugh. “I think that you meant to say my carefully considered and beautifully worded argument.”

  He psaws. “Whatever you say babe.” He pauses and then says softly, “I’m glad that I did listen though. I’ve never been happier with anyone than I am with you. Every single day just waking up next to you makes me content.”

  “Content,” I murmur. “Such a small word for such an encompassing feeling.”

  He nods and settles further into me with a happy sigh, and I release his hair from its short ponyt
ail and run my fingers through it feeling the soft silky strands catch and wrap around my fingers. He’d had it cut a bit shorter a few weeks ago but it’s still long enough for me to run my hands through it. I love doing that because it calms me. I let out a deep sigh and suddenly the nerves vanish and I know exactly what to say and feel a deep certainty over the answer.

  “Matty, will you marry me?”

  For a second I think that he hasn’t heard me, but then he twists and rises up to a half crouch. “What?”

  “Will you marry me?” I say it more quickly now with a bit of uncertainty creeping in, and then I’m off babbling again and it’s two years ago all over again. “I mean, I wanted to ask you in a really romantic place, but where’s more romantic than here on our beach where we got together, where we’re always just Matt and John and happy together?”

  He stares at me, his mouth open slightly I hope in amazement and not in dismay, but I plough on regardless. “I love you so much Matt. You’re everything to me. You’ve given me a home for the first time in my life and it isn’t where we stay, it’s you. You’ve given me a family of friends and every day you make me laugh and make me think. You challenge me, but best of all you give me peace and joy and the freedom to be me because you love me in all my guises. You’re my best friend and my lover and my sounding board all rolled into one.”

  I reach into my pocket and pull out a small box. “I had these made because I wanted something totally different for you because you’re utterly unique and irreplaceable to me.”

  I extract the rings which are beautiful wide hammered bands, copper on the outside with smooth silver inside. “Look I had yours engraved sweetheart.” I point to the words ‘You were my first and you’ll be my last.’ “It’s Bob Dylan. I heard it and thought of you.” His face twists as if under some strong emotion but I can’t read him at this moment so I babble on. “But if you don’t like them or don’t want to do it … Oh God I hope that you do want to do this because otherwise I’m going to feel like a gigantic twat.”