by J P Sayle
They also had a meeting planned next week with Sarah, Martin’s sister, to view a potential office to rent in the building Sarah owned.
It was all systems go. His head swam with how fast things were changing. He’d even managed to tie up all the paperwork at police headquarters, with Ellie’s help. He was now formally on leave for several weeks before his official retirement paperwork kicked in. The money he would receive would keep him afloat until the new business became a viable source of income. Though the way Aaden was drumming up business he didn’t think it would be long.
Their expertise in the different fields seemed to open them up to diverse contractual opportunities. The offers so far ranged from exploring and offering office security measures to several large offshore companies, to personal security for the film industry for when international stars come to the small island to make movies.
He’d laughed at how eager Aaden was to see which movie stars would come to the island. Brody had always been surprised by Aaden’s love of movies. Whenever they had some free time, he would drag Brody to some new release. The possibility of interacting with some of his heroes made Aaden act like a school kid in a sweetie shop.
Brody clasped his hands, excitement sparking inside him. He’d never admit it, but he was more than a little excited at the prospect too. The nervous butterflies floating in his stomach were something different from the usual messy hard knots he normally associated with his job.
Brody was distracted from his musings by the electronic voice warbling over the speaker. He tilted his head, listening to the call for his flight. He got up. Shrugging into his jacket, he grabbed the handle of his carry-on and walked towards the gate. He slid open his phone and fired off a quick text to let Aaden know he was on his way.
The butterflies in his stomach fluttered violently, batting against the walls of his abdomen, desperate to escape. He touched his stomach, taking a breath hoping it would help settle him, while blaming the feeling on his sudden change in career.
He blew at his fringe, huffing when a voice sounding far too much like Aaden whispered “stop kidding yourself.”
Over the last week, when he’d spoken to Aaden, he’d avoided any mention of Nick or what the witch had told them. It was as if they’d come to some silent agreement making the subject taboo, which suited Brody fine. He didn’t want to open the can of worms. Not yet. He needed to talk to Nick first. Which he’d avoided doing, and he wasn’t keen how cowardly it made him look. Thinking about it only made him feel worse. Brody barely resisted hunching into his jacket.
He knew he should have made a move to open up communication between them. Fuck it! With all the other stuff he’d been dealing with and the crap the witch had sprung on him. Was I to blame for needing a little time to get my head together?
He hated to admit he was still no closer to sorting it all out, and it was getting harder for him to fathom where to start.
The urge to throw his hands up made his shoulders tense as he walked up the long corridor towards the gate he needed. Brody kept his eyes focused in front of him, though his head was miles away, anxious to get to see Nick and work on… what?
Friendship?
A relationship?
Who the fuck knows?
He didn’t, that was for sure. He was returning to the island permanently, and he hadn’t even mentioned it to the one person he wanted to know. Or more importantly, the one person that could make this the perfect move.
He stilled suddenly as the thought hit him. Wrecking his head, it knocked him senseless. Perfect. Where the fuck did that come from?
The person walking behind him barrelled straight into Brody. He staggered forward, colour rising up his neck at the loud snarl as the guy pushed past. Brody mumbled a quick apology, but the guy was already several feet away. Making himself move, he ignored the odd looks from several other passengers when he noticed he’d passed the gate he needed and had to backtrack.
Brody realised too late he was scowling at the poor women standing in front of him when she edged away from him. He attempted to smile, but he gave up when he saw the alarm in her eyes. He gave a silent sigh, willing the queue to move quicker.
Thankfully the flight was quick and uneventful.
It was the last flight of the evening, and they descended in darkness. The lights on the runway guided them to the small brightly lit airport. Brody grabbed his things, eager to get off the tiny plane.
The freezing wind hit full force when the doors opened. It whipped at his open jacket, allowing the icy air to filter through his thin shirt. Brody shuddered, and pulling the edges of his jacket together, he walked quickly down the plane steps, carrying his bag. He hurried into the building and was relieved when the warm air took some of the chill of his skin.
He spotted Aaden’s intimating figure through the wall of glass windows separating the arrivals area from the waiting room. The windows offered a view of the seated area where people milled around waiting to collect whoever was arriving.
Brody chuckled, raising his hand to acknowledge Aaden’s presence. Not that you could miss him next to the other people wandering around. His sheer size made Brody think of giants and the story of Jack and the Beanstalk. His six-foot-six-inch stature made everyone look miniscule. The choice of all black only made him appear larger somehow. The long dark multitoned hair flowed over his shoulders, and piercing onyx eyes that missed nothing gave off an aura of “don’t fuck with me.” Brody was not surprised he was standing alone.
A loud whir had him focus back to the conveyor belt. The quick turnaround of bag retrieval was still a pleasant surprise. The last time he’d been in the airport, it had taken mere minutes, not the normal half an hour he’d endured at other airports.
He grinned at the man next to him when his three suitcases were the first to appear. He pretended he didn’t see the light of interest or the offer in the guy’s eyes as they gave him the once-over.
The small fair-haired man looked too much like Ellie. Brody couldn’t muster an ounce of attraction, not when his head was crowded with another blond. He offered a regretful grin, not missing the several curious stares he got. Uncaring of what they thought, he turned to grab his bags.
He’d never kept his sexual orientation a secret, and he wasn’t about to start now. He’d always figured guys floated his boat. And the first kiss with Aaden just confirmed what he’d already known about himself and his likes.
His smile fell at the thought. What he liked, that was a joke. That fucking bitchbag had cast some sort of juju on him, and now he wasn’t sure if he trusted what he thought he liked. And wasn’t that the fucker right there, stopping him from making a claim on Nick. The other reasons he ignored, even though they sat waiting to remind him that he was a pervert.
He hefted the three large suitcases onto the trolley, shoving his confusion to the back of his mind for now. He pushed out through the double doors heading to Aaden and offered a big smile when Aaden gave him a warm hug.
“Fuck, it’s good to have you back,” Aaden muttered into his neck.
The genuine statement stuck in Brody’s throat. He worked to swallow and answer as he hugged Aaden back. The strength in his arms gave a moment of support, of comfort, he hadn’t realised he’d needed until Aaden offered it.
He coughed, pulling away. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I need a stiff drink after the week I’ve had. And then you can catch me up on everything that’s been happening.” Brody thought he caught a flicker of apprehension cross Aaden’s face before a friendly mask slipped in place. Not sure what that was about, he shrugged it off for now, convinced his friend would tell him in his own time.
He dragged the trolley towards the doors. The weight had him praying the van wasn’t parked miles away.
Aaden stared after his friend. The wary look Brody had given him had Aaden chew his lip, hoping he’d hidden the anxiety about setting his friend up. The more he’d talked about this thing between Nick and Brody with Greg and Max, the m
ore he could see how perfect they were for each other. The confirmation they were indeed soulmates and that Christina was responsible for shielding their connection from them made his blood boil. Max had had to talk him down from doing something stupid, like hunt her down and strangling the life right out of the little witch.
No. He unclenched his meaty fists. She would get hers, and the fates, as Max rightly pointed out, didn’t suffer fools gladly. He should know. His hand automatically moved up his chest to touch the warm spot pulsing where Óláfr’s soul sat. A permanent part of who Aaden now was.
Óláfr had paid for his sins along with Max. Though Aaden had a feeling Max might not have quite finished paying if the angry looks Princess kept throwing at him were anything to go by. Brad’s small little black Manx cat, Princess, looked like she was gearing up to give his big snow-white cat, Max, some strife.
Aaden sniggered at the thought.
He strolled after Brody, who was exiting the door. He hid his grin behind a cough when Brody stopped and gave him a searching look. He avoided eye contact, not wanting to cause a dampener on the evening.
He took his time leading Brody to the van, then filling the boot at a snail’s pace. He drove home leisurely, trying his best to eek it out without being too obvious. Greg’s text before he left advised they’d only just hit Guys and Dolls and that they weren’t ready to be collected, yet.
Brody gave Aaden a hard stare after looking at the dashboard. “Anyone would think you were driving Miss Daisy. Fuck. My grandmother can drive faster than you. I thought there were no speed restrictions here?” He regretted how harsh he sounded when Aaden brows merged. But for the life of him he couldn’t understand why Aaden was driving at twenty-eight miles an hour.
Brody’s jaw ached with the force he used to stop the urge to tell Aaden to put his foot down, when his impatience at seeing Nick spiralled out of control.
Aaden was grateful for the darkness so it didn’t show the blush he knew damn well was staining his hot cheeks. Thinking of an excuse, he stuttered, “Shut up… I’m concentrating… I don’t know these roads yet.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. He just hoped it was believable. His fingers relaxed a little on the steering wheel when he got only a grunt in response.
Aaden pulled up outside his home, checking the dash clock. He groaned internally as he saw it was only a little after eleven pm.
He unhurriedly unpacked the van, taking his time to open the front door, ignoring the impatient huffing coming from Brody.
Brody gripped the suitcase handles, yanking them up Aaden’s path to the front door. He stared at Aaden’s back, trying to drill a hole into his skull to see what the hell had got into his friend. The same friend who never went at a snail’s pace, ever. That very same friend who’d criticised anyone who dared to take their time on the roads. Brody would go as so far as to say someone had taken over his friend and replaced them with a bloody fake.
He huffed when Aaden finally opened the door letting him in. He dumped his suitcases in the hall and walked straight to the dimly lit lounge. He stopped in the entryway, surprised to find it empty. He cast a glance over his shoulder when Aaden remained in the hall.
“Where’s Greg?”
Not quite what he wanted to ask, and the gleam of humour in Aaden’s eyes said he knew who he was looking for. He cursed silently when Aaden spoke.
“Greg is out clubbing with the boys.” The humour Aaden felt at Brody’s not so subtle question died. When he thought about his earlier worry about what Greg was wearing, he stomped to the bags, hauling the two largest cases. He headed upstairs, not waiting for Brody to follow.
When Brody’s shout came from behind him, he hesitated at the top of the steps.
“What guys?”
“Who do you think?” Aaden shouted down the stairs. His humour returned when he caught a scowl pinch Brody’s brow. He chuckled and walked into the bedroom Brody had claimed as his.
He dumped the bags on the clean maroon duvet cover. He gave the room a look of approval. In the last two weeks he’d finally got round to having the remaining furniture delivered and fitted. The built-in wall of cream Nolte wardrobes at the foot of the queen-sized bed complimented the two side cabinets and the rose-coloured throw rugs Greg had picked out. The original terracotta curtains had been replaced with cream and blended with the soft rose walls he’d repainted when Greg had come up with the new colour scheme.
He felt Brody pause in the doorway, scoping out the room, and a smile of approval lightened his previous dark scowl.
“I was gonna ask Greg if I could rent his place but now that I see this”—Brody dropped his bags and waved at the lovely furniture and glowing cream-shaded lamps sitting on either side of the bed, offering a warm glow over the wooden floors and rugs—“I’ve changed my mind. This is more like a posh hotel than a mate’s spare room. I take it I have Greg to thank for this.” Brody couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping when Aaden threw him the finger as he marched to the bags he dropped in the doorway so he could check out the room.
“Fuck you, I helped.” Aaden wanted to sulk when Brody raised his brows at him.
“All right, Greg had the idea to change it up a bit.” He huffed, dropping the remaining bags on the now full bed. “You might as well unpack and get settled. Greg will be ringing me to go and pick him up later. I know you’ve had a busy week. You probably want an early night?” Aaden let the question hang between them, knowing full well Brody wouldn’t let him leave without him.
He wasn’t disappointed when Brody spoke from his bent position over the open suitcase.
“No. It’s cool. I’ll come with you. You know, just in case they’ve got themselves into any bother.” He didn’t like the edge of nerves in his voice, so Brody kept his head down and continued unpacking. He didn’t need Aaden picking up on the anxiety about Nick or how worried he was about him out drinking, getting up to God knows what.
Questions nagged at him. Why was Nick out partying? Had he been going out this whole time Brody was in the UK and suffering at home alone? Was he trying to pick up some random bloke to shag?
The more questions that fired into his head, the angrier Brody got. He stormed around the room, putting away his clothes, not making eye contact with Aaden, who stood silently, leaning against the door frame, watching him. He wanted to tell him to leave, but he bit his tongue. At the sudden chiming of Aaden’s phone, his hands dropped the shirt he’d just picked up. His eyes shot to Aaden as he answered his phone. Loud music filled the room, along with Greg’s screeching voice as he competed with the music.
Brody got parts of what he was saying, and it was enough to make his blood boil. He stalked to Aaden, his body straining with the urge to punch someone. He kept his temper leashed, barely, as Aaden finished the call.
“Did he say it was an SOS situation with Nick? That Nick was trying to pick up the bartender in a club?” The harsh growl sounded nothing like him as he struggled to contain the jealousy that pounded at his sensible nature, turning it to nothing but rubble.
Aaden’s eyes darkened as he spoke, “You know you sound more like a rabid dog, right? You’re growling like you wanna rip someone’s throat out. Didn’t you tell me there was nothing between you two?” The softly spoken question held a core of steel that was aimed directly at Brody, slicing him to the bone to reveal the truth.
Brody straightened to his full height, not in the slightest intimidated. He kept his eyes locked with Aaden. “Don’t fuck with me right now. You know damn well I have feelings for Squirt, or you wouldn’t have been champing at the bit to get me back here.” Brody paused as a sudden thought registered. He drilled his finger into Aaden solid chest. “That’s what all the delaying tactics were for! You knew we’d have to go and get Nick and the boys.”
His eyes narrowed when Aaden gave him an unrepentant smirk. He resisted the urge to punch his smug face. Instead he pushed him towards the door.
“You better drive faster than you did getting here because
I won’t be held responsible if that bartender, whoever the fuck he is, touches what’s mine.” He purposely ignored the smug satisfaction Aaden threw his way as they walked down the stairs and out the door. Any thoughts he’d had that Aaden would have an issue with him and Nick being together melted away.
As promised, Aaden, the arse, put his foot down. The oh-shit bar turned into his best friend as they’d drove round Glen Helen at speeds he didn’t even want to contemplate. Brody felt his body tensing the closer they got to Douglas. When Aaden pulled up outside the nightclub, he unclamped the fingers of his left hand, stretching them to get the feeling back in them.
“You told me to go faster.”
He throw up his finger and gave Aaden the bird before stepping out of the van.
Brody searched for the entrance to the club, not waiting for Aaden. He walked past the bouncer who held the door open for him. The guy was attractive, big, burly, and with lots of muscles. Brody’s mood worsened when his stupid body reacted. He stalked past and up the stairs, snarling. He was going to wring Christina’s pretty little neck for this.
The beat of the music was unbearable; it ground into his body. The thudding beat felt like he was sitting on top of the speaker rather than standing in the stairwell. He climbed the remaining stairs with Aaden now right behind him.
He opened the door in front of him, only to halt at the sight greeting him.
He blinked several times, gasping. He clutched the door frame, knuckles starkly displayed in the dimly lit room. His body reacted violently to the visual Nick created dancing on the metal pole.
The flashing overhead lights lit the floor in front of him, allowing the gleam of sweat coating Nick’s skin to shine. His tongue tingled in anticipation of tasting the salty dew.
Brody’s heart stuttered as saliva pooled in his mouth when Nick flicked his hips using his upper body strength to hold his legs away from the dance pole. His hips followed the beat of the music. The erotic sight had him wish for privacy so he could unzip his now strangled cock. The hum from the music added to the sweet torture when the deep vibrations climbed up his legs to his groin, revving his need to do something, anything to stop the clawing desire from ripping him to shreds.