Page 177 of Too Close To Home

More than let him. He kissed Harrison back, but he didn’t take over this time. Didn’t push for deeper or harder or more. Harrison had started this one, so Jake let him set the rhythm. Let him decide how long it lasted.

And Harrison took his time.

Not much of it. Just enough for the kiss to become something more than goodbye. Something Harrison had chosen because he wanted it, with nobody pushing him there.

When he finally drew back, Harrison looked at him for a moment, breathing a little harder than before.

Jake licked his lips. “That part, I’m definitely in favour of seeing more of.”

“Good to know.” Harrison let go and Jake immediately missed the contact, which was fucking ridiculous. He then watched him as he moved towards the door, but paused when he reached it, resting one hand on the frame as he glanced back at Jake. “See you around, Jake Whitton.”

Jake gave him a crooked smile. “Not if I see you first, Detective Inspector Black.”

Harrison shook his head, but there was a smile there as he stepped outside.

Then he was gone.

And Jake listened to his footsteps cross the metal balcony, heard the first clang of his shoes against the stairs, then another, then another, until the sound disappeared altogether.

He wanted to open the door.

Wanted to call him back.

Wanted another kiss, another five minutes, another fucking something.

But he rested his forehead on the closed door and breathed instead.

Harrison hadn’t promised him anything.

No relationship. No future. Not even a bloody date. Just an admission that there was something between them and an agreement not to run away from it before they’d worked out what it was.

For now, Jake could live with that.

He knew how to wait.

Christ, he’d built half his life around waiting.

Waiting for news. Answers. Someone to finally tell him what had happened to his big sister. Waiting when he had no fucking idea whether there was anything left at the other end of it.

This felt different.

For the first time in a very long while, Jake was waiting for a future he might actually believe in.

And fuck, that felt a lot like hope.

epilogue

Into the Mist

The woodland felt different without the noise.

A few weeks ago, Harrison couldn’t have walked more than twenty yards without passing an officer, hearing a radio crackle somewhere between the trees, or seeing another section of undergrowth marked for searching. Now there was only the steady patter of rain through the canopy and the occasional shift of branches overhead.

He moved carefully, boots sinking into the mud as he followed the familiar curve of the path.

Familiar.

He hadn’t expected that.