Chapter 53

He’s seen Alex’s smile, and he’s willing to bet that John hasn’t. Or at least, not for a long time.

“I—” John says, and Ryan shakes his head.

Alex comes banging down the stairs, all elbows and knees and hair, and breaks the spell, barging between them very deliberately and hauling Ryan after him by the wrist.

Something else has happened in Ryan’s absence—Alex’s fingers lace with his, in full view of John Bexley, and there they are, holding hands in the middle of a Home County street, in full view of everyone who cares to look.

Ryan squeezes back, and doesn’t let go.Freedom

Alex dozes like a cat in the sun. The bruises are still horribly vivid, but the fierce red of the stitched-together gash is fading nicely, turning to hide again under the smooth tan he’s redeveloping.

And though Ryan watches, he daren’t touch them. He fears two things—firstly, of course, that it would hurt, and secondly, that it will wake him up.