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The poor old guy must have been here for days, and nobody deserved to end up like that. It was bad enough that he’d died alone, but it was far worse that it had taken this long for anybody to notice.
“Oh, you think you’ve got all the time in the world,” Grandad had said. “One minute you’re living the life of Riley, then before you know it you’re eighty-one and your hip shatters like a bloody light bulb.”
“I’m saying this as kindly as I can,” Kate had told him once, “but you, my love, are fucked in the head.” “Jesus. I’d hate to hear what it sounds like when you’re being blunt then.”
It was a powerful, heady thing to be wanted, and it made him feel alive. It was hardwired into him, and into everyone—that primal urge when confronted with death to push back. To prove something. To scream at the universe: I’m alive! And in Hayden’s experience there was nothing more life affirming than getting laid.
Masterchef and Barbecue Shapes. Living the dream.
The thought that he had made so little impact on the lives of the people around him that maybe one day he’d just drop out of their thoughts, and nobody would even realise they hadn’t heard from him until the neighbours complained about the smell.
It had been a long time since Matt had been in a relationship. He’d forgotten that odd breathlessness that came at the start. He’d forgotten the butterflies and the spontaneous smiles that came just from thinking about the other person. He’d forgotten how invigorating a new relationship could feel.
I like him and he likes me. Maybe we can get wherever it is we’re going together.
Hayden was afraid of being truly seen by Matt. He was afraid of being naked in a way that had nothing to do with how many times he’d stripped and offered up his skin to Matt.
Charlie had nosed his way inside to sleep in the air conditioning. He was wedged with his head under the bed, as though he was working on the theory that if he couldn’t see Hayden and Matt, then they couldn’t see him either and they couldn’t throw him out.
“Why the hell do all these people put windows in front of the bathtub?” Grandad asked. “Scaring the bloody neighbours like that.”
Did it ever feel strange, this shift in roles that happened in families over time, where the adults and the children changed roles so completely?
“You didn’t dump anything on me,” Matt said. “I’m your boyfriend. I care about you.” Hayden shot him a sideways look he couldn’t quite read. “It’s as simple as that, huh?”
Maybe he tried to listen, Matt thought, but he just couldn’t hear your voice over all the other noise in his head.
They were boyfriends. They liked each other. Did they have to know any more than that yet?
Why the hell wasn’t there another word between like and that other l-word?
We. There was no way so small a word should have had the power to fill Hayden with such warmth. It was a word he was unused to though. He’d dealt with stuff alone for so long that he hadn’t known there was any other way to do it. His eyes stung, and he nodded.
They were about being small and afraid, and totally alone. And they were about how Isaiah must have felt the same. Must have felt he wasn’t good enough for anyone to want.
And hard not to listen to the voice of that scared kid in the back of his mind: He won’t stay. Nobody wants you.
“From copper to teacher.” Hayden snorted. “That’s a hell of a leap.” “Not really. It’s all about crowd control.”
It was a process. That’s what the woman from Priority One had said. And Hayden knew that. He knew there was no easy fix, no magical break-through moment right before the music swelled and the credits rolled on some clichéd happy ending. Real life didn’t work like that, and Hayden didn’t expect it to.
What the hell did Hayden know about relationships? All of his previous ones had lasted exactly as long as it had taken to throw the used condom in the bin.
There was no way they could leave the guy in the water, because Matt didn’t want to explain to Ethical Standards how he and Sean had managed to get a suspect eaten by a crocodile.
