Page 30 of Edge

It didn’t take muchlonger to finish them off and afterwards, they leaned against thecool tiles and grinned at each other as the water washed theevidence of their passion away.

“Wow, remindme to shower with you more often,” Damian teased as he stepped outof the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Jory turned offthe water and stepped out too. He preferred to put on the hoteltowelling gown, which hung on the back of the door. The gown wasthick and fluffy and gave him the feeling of beinghugged.

Then again, it mightsimply be the man standing in front of him causing theeffect.

“Our coffeewill be cold by now,” Jory murmured. “I think we’d better orderroom service and eat something. I’m rather ravenous after all themorning’s excitement.”

“Coffee soundsgood.” Damian hesitated as he turned to walk away. “Then while weeat, you can fill me in on why the call made you react the way youdid, and what’s going on. And I’m not taking no for ananswer.”

He left the bathroom,leaving Jory to hyperventilate as he figured out what to tell hislover. He stared at himself in the foggy mirror, seeing a man withdark shadows under his haunted eyes, swollen lips, and shit, itlooked as if he had a pimple or something starting on hischin.

He delayed going backinto the bedroom as long as he could. Then, with a tilt of his chinand a defiant air, he sauntered out to face the music.

***

Damian had alreadyordered them a full breakfast, and Jory’s mouth watered at thearoma of bacon wafting up from the breakfast trolley. He wasstarving…and was that a mimosa gracing the tray? Damian was a godamong gods.

Damian was sitting at thecorner table dressed casually in last night’s clothes. He waved apiece of toast at Jory. “Help yourself, there’s plenty there. Thismimosa is awesome.” He sipped from his glass, his expressionbeatific.

Jory chuckled. “Are youhaving a second orgasm with your drink?” He loaded his plate fullof bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, and toast, and with mimosa inhis other hand, he walked over to the table and sat. There was apot of coffee on the table and he poured them both acup.

Damian’s lower face wasspeckled with scrambled egg, and Jory took a napkin and brushed itoff. “This looks delicious. Wearing it doesn’t become you,though.”

Damian snorted. Luckily,nothing came flying out of his nose. “I get careless when I eatsomething this tasty. I could steal this chef and take him home.”His face turned blissful as he shovelled another mound of egg intohis mouth. Jory learnt something then: the way to Damian wasdefinitely through his stomach. And great sex.

His lover swallowed hisfood and took a sip of his coffee. “So, want to tell me what gotyou so upset earlier? Did you know this guy, the one who died?”Damian’s voice was soft, compassion etched on hisfeatures.

Jory’s gut clenched andhe took a deep breath. “He was a friend a long time ago. We haven’tseen each other in years.”

“So that wouldexplain why you got so upset, but it doesn’t explain the extremereaction to what Roger said about having to talk to you. Forgiveme, but he made it sound as if you had a hand in itsomehow.”

Jory’s pulseraced. How much do I tell him? I’ve nevertold anyone before; perhaps it’s time to trust someone and sharethe burden. But how do I know Damian is my guy?

He tookanother deep shuddering breath. I have totrust someone sometime. And I do trust him. He’s not just anyone tome.

“I tell youwhat. I need to call him back first and find out the whole story.Once I hear it, I’ll give you an update. Fair?”

Damian pursed his lipsthen nodded. “Fair. But warn the prat if he upsets you anymore,he’ll have me to reckon with.” He hesitated. “Do you want me to bewith you when you call him?”

Jory shook his headvehemently. “No, no, I can manage. I’ll do it after breakfast.” Hewas aching to call Roger and find out the story while dreading itat the same time.

They finished theirbreakfast, avoiding the subject of the call and talking about otherthings, including Damian’s fear of heights. Once, he’d said, hisparents had had to remove him from a toddler roller coaster whenvisiting Gulliver’s Kingdom up north. Jory found this hilariouswhen he Googled it because the contraption hadn’t been that high,but Damian had barfed over the side anyway.

“It looks muchbloody higher when you’re only six years old,” Damian had arguedindignantly, but with the sparkle in his eye, Jory knew he wasenjoying the teasing.

In return, Damian hadmanaged to drag out of Jory the fact he hated flying insects. WhenJory had been twelve, he’d been accosted by a swarm of grasshoppersin a field. The insects had gotten stuck in his hair and Joryremembered screaming at his dad to get them off him. Finally,they’d all been shooed off, but Jory still shivered at the thoughtof the insects scrabbling in his hair and scratching his face andscalp with their tiny claws.

Sharing some of theiryoung lives calmed Jory to the point he felt armoured enough tocall Roger. He gave Damian a soft kiss on his cheek and went intothe bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Roger answered on thefirst ring. “What the hell took you so long to call meback?”

Despite his gut twistinglike the ribboned strands of a maypole, Jory’s temper flared. “Fuckyou. You tell me bad news and expect me to be fine with it? Ramsaywas my friend.”

“Don’t I knowit.” Roger’s voice held a tinge of satisfaction and Jory wanted tovomit up his breakfast. He took a shuddering breath as sour bileinvaded his throat and tried to stay calm.

“Tell me whathappened.”

Roger sounded as if hewas rifling through papers on the other side. “The newspapersreported it as a non-suspicious death, and they aren’t looking foranyone else. Reading between the lines, he probably overdosed, orhanged himself, who knows what way he chose to go out.” Roger gavea maniacal laugh, a sound truly out of place given the subjectmatter. “Funny thing, though. The guy was twenty-seven so it lookslike he’s another member of the Twenty-Seven Club.”