july, age 23
The tantalising smell of freshly baked banana bread filled the entire flat, wafting from the kitchen to the sitting room where Lucas sat with a print-out of the eighth chapter of the manuscript he was working on, unconsciously chewing the cap of his red pen as he scanned the pages. The rich, doughy aroma pulled him out of his concentration, going straight to his head along with the gentle scent of Earl Grey tea that grew stronger as Asher’s footsteps got louder.
“Ok, here we go,” he said as he backed into the room with his arms laden. He set don two plates of hot, moist banana loaf and a couple of steaming mugs of tea. “I made a cream cheese frosting too. I know that’s more of a carrot cake thing, before you say it, but it’s fucking delicious so I don’t care.” He licked a dollop of frosting off his thumb. “Ooh, not too shabby. That’s pretty good.”
“It looks it,” Lucas said, his mouth watering. He set his manuscript safely to one side, away from crumbs and splashes, and he pulled over a mug and a plate. “Mmm, smells incredible. I can’t believe you just made this.”
“Mmhmm, with my own two hands.” He wiggled his fingers and grinned. “My own very clean hands,” he added, dropping down next to Lucas on the sofa. “God, if I may say so myself, this really does smell fucking incredible. Is it good?”
Lucas took a bite of the perfectly soft bread and groaned as he chewed, licking a smear of frosting off his lip. “Phenomenal,” he said. “Who knew you were a baker?”
Asher tapped his nose. “So much you don’t know about me, baby.” He held a straight face for all of a second before he took a mammoth bite of his bread, shaking his head. “Who am I kidding,” he muttered. “You know me better than I do.” He stretched out his legs to rest his heels on the coffee table. “We had brown bananas and a whole bunch of cookbooks.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d give it a shot.”
“Well, you shot very well.”
Asher winked. “I always do.”
“Do you have to make absolutely everything dirty?” Lucas sipped his tea, the perfect heat with the perfect amount of milk. Sometimes Asher played dumb in the kitchen but he knew exactly what he was doing: it was merely laziness that held him back.
“Hey, you have always known what you were getting yourself into. I am my mother’s son after all.”
“Your mother’s a terror,” Lucas said. “You are too. A terror who knows his way around a banana, apparently.”
Asher guffawed. “Oh my God, come on! You say I’m dirty but you’re the one handing me the set-up on a silver platter!”
Lucas gave him a coy smile, holding back a cheeky grin. He took another bite and slipped his hand onto Asher’s knee. “I know you know your way around a banana,” he said, his voice low. He kissed Asher’s cheek. “After all, this is really good banana bread.”
Asher’s grin widened. “You are such a fucking tease,” he murmured, kissing Lucas with the sweet spice of his tea on his tongue. He moved his plate to the coffee table, adjusting his position to kiss Lucas better, cupping his cheek in his hand and knocking his glasses with his nose. Pulling away an inch, he said, “You’re not as innocent as you look.”
Lucas shrugged and smiled, reaching for his tea. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. Asher groaned and flopped back onto his side of the sofa, a grin on his lips.
“Look at you, Mr Coy,” he said. “Under all this, this clean that you’ve got going on, there’s a dirty Lucas hiding inside somewhere. He’s just buried under a mountain of bleach and sponges and wet wipes.”
Lucas laughed at the image but he shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “As much as I’m loving this-” He held up the cake, “- I’m a little bit terrified about what kind of war zone the kitchen must look like right now.”
“I … let’s just say maybe you should stay out of there for the next couple of hours,” Asher said. “After all, I can think of something a lot more exciting that tidying.”
“I’m sure you can,” Lucas said drily, “but we’re meeting Tom and Mika in a couple of hours and I imagine we’ll be out with them for a while. I’d really rather come back to a clean kitchen.” He finished off his cake and gave his boyfriend a look. “Plus, I already showered today.”
Asher chuckled and ran his hand through his hair, slurping his tea. “Ok, just to clarify … that’s a no to sex?” He used Lucas’s leg as leverage to stand, getting to his feet with a sigh, and he bent over to kiss his forehead. It always amused him when Lucas gave a virtual shopping list of reasons he didn’t want to or couldn’t do something, whether that was to fool around or to go to the beach, when a simple no would suffice.
“Where’re you going?”
He nodded at the kitchen. “Time to tidy up.”
“No, it’s fine, I’ll do it,” Lucas said. He had high standards when it came to cleaning, which meant he usually did it himself. Asher liked to help out but even after three years of living together, he hadn’t quite mastered the art of Lucas-level tidying: if he couldn’t find a place for something, he had a habit of shoving it away somewhere that made no sense.
“I might need to do a bit of a pre-tidy,” Asher said with a grimace. “Just . . . don’t come in for a little while, ok? Enjoy your tea, relax, put your feet up.”
Lucas grimaced but he acquiesced, curling his socked feet up under himself. “Ok,” he said. “Just don’t make it worse.”
Asher snorted. “I don’t think I could.”
*
“Time to go.” Lucas pulled on a jacket and fixed his collar, standing by the door to wait for Asher. He had made himself busy in the kitchen for over an hour, spending more time cleaning up than it had taken him to make the banana bread, and once he was on a roll he had insisted that Lucas let him finish the job. He had got right down to the nitty gritty of tidying, scrubbing and polishing the counters and even wiping down the oven, arranging everything in the cupboards and the fridge to Lucas’s standards: each shelf was dedicated to a specific type of produce, which was then subdivided into categories arranged in size order.
Despite what Lucas had said earlier, the effort Asher had made had softened his sympathies and the last forty minutes had been spent fooling around in the bedroom. It was a turn-on for him to see his boyfriend make such an effort, to see the sheen on his forehead from the rigour with which he had cleaned.
Now they had to go. Lucas checked his watch, counting down each second that ticked away while Asher got ready. He always took his time as though it was programmed into him to be late. Lucas always told him they needed to be gone ten minutes before they actually had to leave, though it hadn’t taken Asher long to pick up on that trick and abuse it.
It had been nine minutes already.
“Asher!” he called, craning his neck as though that would give him the power to see through walls. “I don’t want to be late. The table’s booked for half seven.”
“What time is it now?”
“Quarter past. We really need to go.”
Asher emerged with a wonky smile on his lips. “We’ve got plenty of time, don’t worry.”
“Tom and Mika are even more punctual than me,” Lucas said, raising his eyebrows.
“That’s just called being early.” Asher ran his hand through his hair, ducking in front of the mirror to check that it looked ok. It was growing long, in need of a trim, though he was getting used to it tickling the nape of his neck. Lucas liked it being a little longer too, something to grab onto when his fingers curled into fists.
“It’s rude to be late,” he said. “Plus, it’s their anniversary. Well, tomorrow, but still. Plus, you look ready so any lateness at this point would be gratuitous.” He nodded at the door. “Come on. You are ready, aren’t you?”
Asher did up all but the top button of his shirt, adjusting his jeans and slipping into a pair of shoes. Lucas grimaced when he pressed down the heels, wishing he would just take an extra thirty seconds to do it properly.
“Ok, let’s go.” He jangled his keys and opened the door, ushering Asher out before he could find another way to be late. He made sure the door was locked a couple of times, testing the handle just in case before he was happy, leading the way down the stairs. Asher followed behind, his feet thumping on each step.
“We’re going to be early at this rate,” he said, squinting at his watch. “Maybe we should swing by that cute little chocolate shop and get them a little something?”
Lucas slowed to take Asher’s hand and he smiled. “That’s sweet,” he said, “but Tom’s lactose intolerant.
“Flowers?”
“We’re going to be at the restaurant for, I don’t know, a good two or three hours, probably. Wilting flowers might not be the best way to celebrate their first year as husband and wife.”
Asher chuckled. “True, true. Ok, no flowers and no choccies. Wine?”
Lucas pursed his lips and shook his head. “They don’t drink.”
“Wow. Seriously? Like, at all?” He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “That’s crazy. One of my favourite things is having a glass of wine with you in the evening.”
“I think they just have tea.”
“Well, in that case, I guess our presence will have to be present enough,” he mused, bumping against Lucas as they walked down the cobbled street.
The weather was wonderfully mild for July. The sky was almost clear, the odd smattering of cloud providing respite from the sun’s rays, and a cool breeze rolled in off the sea. The sun wouldn’t set for another hour and a half, the light softening as the day ambled towards its end, and the sky’s blue darkened as the evening approached. It would be a beautiful night, crisp and clear with a sprinkling of stars twinkling over the lazy ocean.
“Can you believe it? That they’ve been married for a whole year?” Asher let out a low whistle. “It’s so crazy; they’re such adults.”
“They always have been,” Lucas said. “It suits them though. I really can’t imagine one without the other. I mean, Tom without Mika … I think he’d probably still be virtually silent.”
“Well, it has been, what … nearly seventeen years since they met? Mika joined when we were in Year Three, didn’t she?”
“Wow. Yes, she did. Has it really been that long?”
Asher laughed and nodded. “Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, though many of the years since Year Three hadn’t been much fun for Lucas. “They’re basically a package deal now, I think. Like you and me.” He ran his thumb over the back of Lucas’s hand, sending a happy shiver down his spine and painting a contended smile on his lips.
*
Tom and Mika were already at the table, sitting opposite each other locked in conversation, their hands entwined across the table. The lighting was perfect, casting a shimmering halo behind Mika’s head but as stunning as she looked, it was Tom who caught Lucas’s attention right off the bat. He looked as happy and relaxed as Lucas had ever seen him, colour in his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes, deep dimples either side of his gentle smile. Marriage was a good colour on him, a year almost to the day that he and Mika had surprised everyone with their wedding. With each day that passed, he seemed to become more and more himself. Or rather, a version of himself who was happier than the Tom everyone had known before.
He stood first, a smile illuminating his face when he spotted his friends across the restaurant. Although he had always considered Lucas to be his friend before he saw him as his nephew, their biological relationship baffling them to this day, the two saw each other more and more as brothers.
“Hi!” He was more animated in that moment than he had been for the first decade of his life. He hugged Lucas and then Asher before Mika stood too, the light catching on the delicate necklace that rested between her collarbones. She embraced her friends with her trademark sunny smile that could brighten any day.
“Hey, guys,” she said, hugging them as though she was making up for the three months it had been since the four of them had last been together. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Right back at you,” Asher said, dwarfing her with embrace. Although he was only an inch or two taller than Lucas, he had muscles where his boyfriend had none: where he had strong shoulders and toned abs, Lucas had a delicate, narrow frame.
“Happy almost anniversary,” Lucas said when he and Asher sat down. He took a seat next to Mika, who filled everyone’s glasses from the water jug on the table.
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks glowing. “I can’t believe it’s already been a year.”
“You know what I can’t believe?” Asher took a sip of his water, letting his words linger for a moment.
Tom took the bait when he asked, “What?”
“I still can’t believe,” Asher began slowly, “that you guys managed to pull off a surprise wedding. That still blows my mind.” He shook his head as he ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “How did you even pull that off? It’s just crazy.”
Mika laughed. Tom wore quiet pride on his lips. The two of them had kept fairly quiet about their sudden nuptials, never revealing anything except that they had wanted to get married, so they had. There had been murmurs of an unexpected pregnancy, mostly from Tom’s sisters suspecting amongst themselves that a baby would come along within months, but twelve had passed and the happy couple was still just that: a couple.
“We just didn’t want it to be a big deal,” Mika said with a shrug. “We really meant what we said at the time: we wanted to get married so we did.” She smiled fondly at her husband before returning her gaze to Asher. “When Tom proposed, he hadn’t told anyone he was going to do it and we wanted to see how long we could make it before anyone found out.”
“Either we’re really good at keeping secrets or nobody pays that much attention to us,” Tom said. “I have to say, I’m still amazed we hoodwinked Mum. Nothing gets past her.”
Mika chuckled and added, “I think Maddie was more annoyed that she didn’t figure it out than that we didn’t tell her we were engaged. And as for my parents … well, Mum was really upset that she wasn’t a part of the preparation. I think she wanted the whole traditional, you know, mother of the bride deal.”
“Mmm, yeah, we got that,” Asher said. Mika’s mother, Pearl, was one of his mother’s best friends, the two of them having known each other since they were teenagers, and he and Lucas had been around a few times to overhear her on the cusp of crying as she drank with Ishaana.
“She’s over it now,” Tom said. “Right? I think it helps that Saori got engaged this year.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Mika said, before she explained to her friends. “Mum had kind of decided Saori would never get married so she put all her hopes on me and, well, I don’t think she likes surprises.”
“I thought it was brilliant,” Lucas said. “We thought there was a proposal on the horizon, that maybe the surprise party was some kind of disguise for you to get engaged, but you still pulled the wool over our eyes.”
Mika grinned. “Mission accomplished.” She sipped her water and leant back with a sigh, opening the menu for the first time. “Literally the hardest thing we’ve ever done.” She rolled her lips together, on the cusp of saying something else. Nobody said a word, waiting for her to finish her thought. “Part of me was scared that if we announced we were getting married, people would tell us we were too young and they’d try to tell us not to get married. We didn’t want anyone trying to ruin the moment, so…” She looked down at her hand, the modest engagement ring that sat nestled beneath the delicate wedding band that mirrored Tom’s.
“I wouldn’t change a thing about what we did,” Tom said. “I mean, we’d been talking about marriage ever since we were … what, eighteen? It was always going to happen. Though I must say,” he added with a smile,” I didn’t realise how much time I spent with my parents and how much I share with them until I had to keep it a secret.”
The waiter had to come back three times before four decisions had been made. Each time the menus were opened, another strand of conversation unfurled itself, distracting them from their stomachs as it wound its way around the table. Almost half an hour passed between ordering and the food arriving, though the minutes flew by when there was hardly a moment’s break in their chatter. While Tom and Mika sipped virgin cocktails, Asher and Lucas shared a bottle of wine that went down very easily, making their way through a second by the time they finished their main course.
The sun had dropped below the horizon by the time they left the restaurant, tumbling out onto the bustling city streets. It was even busier after dusk than the hours before, especially on a mild summer night when the air held residual warmth from the day’s rays and the gentlest breeze rolled in from the ocean. Just gone ten, the first of the revellers were stumbling down the streets, tripping over heels and cobbles. Lucas almost joined them, losing his balance with a little too much wine in his system.
“I love drunk Lucas,” Mika said with a laugh, cosying up against Tom as they headed down the lanes towards the seafront. “I miss having you guys close by.” She let out a long sigh, swinging her hand with Tom’s.
“We miss you too,” Asher said. He could hold his alcohol a little better than his boyfriend: a bottle of wine over the course of a three-hour supper wasn’t enough to have him crashed out on the floor, his words still coherent. Lucas wore a loopy smile on his lips, his arm linked with Asher’s for a little extra support.
“We really miss you,” he said, pouting. He reached out to pull Mika overand she laughed, when he implored her with dark eyes. “You should move here.”
“I love the city,” she said with a smile. They reached the promenade, the sea glittering beneath the swollen moon, its soft reflection undulating with the waves. “This is such a beautiful city and it’s perfect for a holiday, but I’m afraid we’re not going to move down here.”
Lucas’s pout deepened, almost tripping until Asher caught him, holding onto him a little tighter with a laugh.
“Our whole lives are in Farnleigh,” Tom said, following the direction of Mika’s train of thought. “We don’t plan to move away.” He squeezed his wife’s hand and smiled at her before the glistening ocean captured his attention. “It really is beautiful here, but it’s so expensive. Farnleigh’s better – and cheaper – for raising a family.”
Lucas audibly gasped, filling his lungs with shock. “Oh my goodness,” he whispered, leaning forward. “Are you having babies? Are you two going to have a baby?”
Mika laughed like the gentle tinkle of a windchime and she shook her head. “You always jump to conclusions,” she said. “We’re just thinking about the future, you know, for when we do have children. We want to raise our family in Farnleigh. Both our families are there; it’s an amazing town with good schools … there’s no reason to move.”
“You two…” Asher trailed off with a smile. “You’re so domestic. In such an adorable way. Look at you guys, planning out your life.”
Lucas was virtually swooning, his hand over his heart. That was everything he wanted, the gentle domestic life with the man of his dreams, the only man he had ever dreamt about. He couldn’t help but feel a little emotional to see how confident Tom and Mika were, how comfortable and secure they were.
“I want you guys to have a baby,” he said, his words flowing. “You’ll be the best parents. I want a little baby cousin.”
Mika chuckled and patted Lucas’s shoulder, fondly slinging her arm around him for a moment. “We do too,” she said.
“You do?” Asher asked, raising his eyebrows. Both Mika and Tom nodded simultaneously.
“We agreed to wait a year before we started trying,” Mika said, “and, well … tomorrow’s our anniversary.”
“Oh my God!” Asher cried out. “You’re really going to start trying for a baby?”
The happy couple shared a look, a smile, and Mika nodded again when she returned her gaze to Asher.
“Already?” Lucas spluttered out. No matter what he said, how sure he was that the two would be wonderful parents – and soon – he couldn’t believe they really wanted to kickstart their family so soon.
“I know we’re young,” Tom said – while he was almost twenty-four, Mika had just turned twenty-three, “but we have a flat and we both have good jobs; we have decent savings and it’s not like we want to run off and travel the world.”
That made sense, Lucas thought, though his head was swimming a little. He wished he hadn’t had that last glass of wine. He was a bit of a lightweight, hardly anything of him to soak up the alcohol.
Tom squeezed Mika’s hand and smiled, his eyes shining in the soft moonlight. “We want to be parents. We want to have a family and there’s no real reason to put that off. Age suddenly becomes so irrelevant when you’re with the person you’re going to be with for the rest of your life.”
Asher squeezed Lucas’s hand, offering him a sweet smile. “You’re preaching to the converted,” he said. Lucas’s stomach flipped, and not just because he had over-imbibed. He held onto Asher even tighter, nestling close to plant a wonky kiss on his cheek as they walked parallel to the sea. The salty breeze pushed through his hair, tracing cool fingers down his warm spine with a tingle that spread all the way to his toes.
“Do you reckon you guys ever want to have kids?” Mika asked. Before Lucas had even processed the question, her words jumbling on the way to his ears, Asher responded.
“I really want to be a dad someday,” he said without hesitation. Lucas chuckled.
“Well, that saves us a conversation,” he said, though there was a nervous squirm in his stomach. He had thought about having children: it was one of those natural thoughts that entered his mind when he looked at his relationship, wondering what the future looked like for him and Asher.
“Do you want kids?” Tom asked Lucas, catching his non-committal response.
“I…” He trailed off, pursing his lips as he tried to come up with the words in his head. “The thought kind of terrifies me, really.” He tried to walk a little straighter, forcing himself to sober up as the conversation turned more serious than the jokes and anecdotes they had shared over supper.
“That’s normal,” Tom said. “I’m not going to pretend it’s not scary.”
“It’s a big deal,” Mika added.
“I just…” Lucas trailed off again, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought about it. There was a deep-rooted part of him that said he would be a terrible father, that he would never be able to look after a child when too much mess sent him into a panic attack and change completely threw him. “I find the idea really daunting, you know, being totally responsible for someone’s life. You can rewrite an essay if you don’t like how it turns out; you can’t rewrite a child.”
Asher laughed and stopped to kiss him, taking in the moment with the moon a highlight in the dark sky, rippling on the sea. “I love you,” he said, grinning against Lucas’s lips. “I don’t know what you’re worrying about. I think you’ll be an amazing daddy one day.”
Lucas scowled. “What’ve I said about you using that word?”
Asher laughed harder; Mika did too. Tom wore his amusement locked behind a coy smile.
“Got a bit of a kink, have you?” Mika asked. Lucas’s cheeks turned beetroot red, which only furthered Asher’s tipsy laugh.
“I wouldn’t be allowed to if I did,” he said. He prodded Lucas’s chest. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean…” He paused to put together his thoughts. “Just think about how much you adore and admire your parents, right?”
Lucas thought hard. He thought about how lucky he was to have four parents he cherished, the people who had shaped his life and never failed to help him whenever he had needed a hand, propping him up through every moment of his life.
Asher continued, tickling Lucas’s palm with his thumb as he talked. “Just imagine how incredible it will be to have a child love you like that. Your own child, someone who doesn’t care about anything except that you’re their dad.” His voice softened as he talk, igniting a flame in Lucas’s chest. He had never heard him talk so passionately before, never quite realising just how much his boyfriend thought about the future.
“That’s amazing,” Mika murmured. “I love that.”
Lucas swallowed his nerves. “Me too.”
*
They walked along the shore until they reached the marina with tired feet, coming right to the doorstep of the flat Tom and Mika had rented, a fourth-floor apartment with spectacular views over the marina and the city to the right. It was quieter down that end of the city, a residential area two and a half miles away from the party zone that was the centre – and a good two miles from Lucas’s and Asher’s flat
“Thank you so much for tonight,” Mika said, hugging Asher and kissing his cheek before she did the same to Lucas. “This really was fantastic. It’s so good to see you guys again, and especially down here. We’ll have to come down again someday, and I’m sure we’ll see you again before we head home.”
“Of course!” Asher said. “We’ll be around. We’ll grab a coffee or something before you leave.”
“That’d be great,” Tom said.
Lucas put all of his concentration into standing straight and acting sober, smiling as he hugged his friends goodbye without tripping over his own feet. “Have a wonderful anniversary,” he said. “Go make a baby.”
Asher guffawed and slung his arm around Lucas’s waist. “I think it’s time for me to take my hot mess home,” he said. “Night, guys.”
As they left, heading back to the main road to find a taxi back to their flat, Lucas pouted.
“I’m not a mess,” he said.
“You are a little bit,” Asher said, “but it’s ok. You’re a hot mess. One that I love very, very much.” He kissed him again, closing his eyes and breathing him in. Lucas’s lips were soft and sweet, his kiss a little clumsy, and he giggled like a child when his glasses were knocked askew, Asher’s nose pressing into his cheek.
Within ten minutes, the taxi had arrived and safely delivered them back to their flat, Asher paying and giving Lucas a hand up too many steps until they eventually made it to the bedroom. Lucas dropped down onto the bed and lay back, throwing his arms back so his shirt rose up a little, exposing his midriff.
“What time is it?” he asked with a yawn.
“Nearly midnight,” Asher said as he took his shirt off over his head, not bothering to undo his buttons. He shimmied out of his jeans and folded them over the chair that stood only to hold the clothes he deemed not dirty, but not quite clean enough for his drawers. It was the one ounce of mess that Lucas allowed in the bedroom.
“I’m so tired.” He yawned, clapping a loose hand over his mouth. With a heavy sigh, he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt though his fingers were clumsy, struggling with the small button and the tight holes.
“Look at you,” Asher said, laughing. He bent over the bed to help Lucas with his belt, pulling off his jeans for him. “I think we found your limit. One less than whatever you had tonight.”
Lucas let out another tired sigh. “It’s just wine. Wine makes me go funny.”
“Mmm, hilarious,” Asher said, his voice dry. Standing in just his boxers, he pulled the curtains shut and switched on his bedside light, nudging Lucas until he reluctantly stood to finish undressing. After another minute of battling his shirt, he shed it over the chair, something he only did when he was a little drunk, and dropped down again on his side of the bed. They had never switched sides.
“I’m so tired,” he said again, his yawn setting off Asher too.
“Good thing tomorrow’s Sunday. We can sleep in.” He plugged in his phone, addressing it for the first time since they had left the flat to go out to dinner. Nobody had touched their phones all evening, too engrossed in each other’s company to be dragged away by whatever minutiae their notifications held.
When he dragged the screen down to refresh his emails, only one popped into his inbox and he fumbled for his glasses to read it. Lucas had already put his away, tucked up beneath the duvet on his side as he watched the blurry shape that was his boyfriend.
“Who is it?” he asked, knowing there had to be a message if Asher had dug out the glasses he hated to wear.
“Mira,” he said, stifling a yawn. Getting into bed after a long day always brought the yawns out of him, as though his body was begging him to just lie down and close his eyes.
“What’s she saying?” Lucas closed his eyes, unable to keep his heavy lids open any longer.
“It’s a save the date.”
“Huh?”
“She and Mawar are redoing their wedding ceremony,” he explained, scrolling down to read the whole email. He suspected it wasn’t the same one Mira had sent to everyone – it was littered with expletives, lack of capitalisation, and even a few emojis.
“Oh!” Lucas opened his eyes. “Really?”
“Mmhmm.” Asher set down his phone and took off his glasses, lying down with a smile. He turned off the light and kissed Lucas, a short and gentle kiss. “Fancy going to America next year?”
Lucas’s lips pulled into a smile. He felt for Asher’s cheek in the dark, cupping his warm, stubbled skin. “I’d love to.”
“Reckon we’re supposed to take a wedding present?”
“I already know what they’re getting,” Lucas said. He pulled the duvet up to his shoulders and closed his eyes again, relishing in the darkness that consumed him. Asher snorted a laugh.
“Are you gonna share that thought? What is it?”
Lucas smiled at his own thought and snuggled closer to Asher, turning around to be the little spoon before he said, “Egg cups.”
+ – + – +
i hope you enjoyed this chapter! i used to think tom and mika were young too, until this week one of my friends got engaged and another announced her pregnancy – both aged 21.
i finally got round to sitting down and planning out the rest of this book rather than just relying on my own head, and i can at last confirm that there will be forty chapters in total. the plan has gone through some crazy changes since i started writing it, and some major changes in the past couple of days – which I think you’ll be happy about. it will therefore take a little longer to complete this story than i first thought – it may well not be until the end of october. it’s crazy to think that this book was initially supposed to only be 10 parts!
also, i have been planning my christmas novella for this year! it will be set in december 2017 (first generation omg) and although the characters are all totally new, they may be more familiar than you think ;))
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