Chapter 2

While I waited for Cory to come back, I picked up the place. It didn’t take long. Em always accused me of being a neat freak. And as she hadn’t been home to make a mess, it was already pretty tidy. Emma not being home got me to thinking. I pulled out my iPhone and brought up What’s App and began to type.

Your Message: Cory’s here. Where are you?

A couple of minutes later my phone dinged.

The Bitch: Blackpool

“Blackpool?” I said aloud.

I was distracted from my phone by Cory hobbling back into the living room, minus his sweater. Leaning on the crutches certainly emphasised his arm muscles and his tight tee showed off his chest, too.

Forcing my gaze up to Cory’s square-jawed face, I slipped into good host mode. “Have you eaten?”

“Nah, not really. I’m pretty shit at cooking.” He lifted his crutches. “And these don’t help.”

I wasn’t that great a cook myself, although I could feed myself—and Em—without too much trouble. Which reminded me.

Your message: ?

The Bitch: Mandy’s hen weekend remember

I didn’t. And it’s something I would have. Still, at least I knew where she was and hoped she was being safe. Not a lot I could do if she wasn’t. Sighing, I slipped my phone back in my pocket. “Seems Em’s in Blackpool.”

“Blackpool?”

I laughed. “That’s what I said.” I explained that one of her friends was getting married in a couple of weeks and the group of female friends were getting together at the coast.

“She didn’t say anything to me about it.”

“Typical Em,” I said before focussing back on the task at hand, namely feeding Cory. “What would you like to eat?”

“I’ll ring for a pizza.”

I remembered the cold and dry crust I’d recently tossed in the bin as well as what Cory had requested the first time he’d stayed for breakfast. “How about something with less fat and more protein? Scrambled eggs on toast and not too much toast?

Cory gave me a heart-melting and dick-hardening smile. “Fucking awesome.” He lowered himself onto the sofa.

“Want a beer? Or are you on pain killers or something?”

“Don’t like taking anything stronger than Paracetamol ‘cause it makes me woolly headed.”

“Wouldn’t have thought Paracetamol would do anything for the sort of pain you must be in.”

Cory grinned. “It doesn’t, but I’m tough.”

I held back a blush. “So, you want a beer then?”

Cory nodded and I bustled off into the kitchen, calling out, “Change the channel on the TV to something else if you want”

I cracked eight eggs into a bowl, added just a splash of milk, the smallest of knobs of butter, and some shredded cheese. The fridge also yielded some smoked salmon and I knew there was a fresh packet of bagels in the bread crock.

To my surprise, when I came back into the living room, tray in hand, Cory was watching the episode of The CrownI’d paused. When he saw me, he started to get up. “No, stay where you are. You can manage the tray on your lap can’t you?”

He nodded and settled back down. I laid the tray on his lap and took my plate—which contained less than half the amount of food Cory’s did—plus one of the bottles of Michelob, and took them to the armchair.

“This is fucking great,” he said through a mouthful of food.

I smiled. “Thanks. Just stuff I had in.”

We watched the rest of the show then talked about it. Seemed Cory had studied history and politics at A-level so was pretty familiar with the recent history of the British monarchy.

Cory shifted and grimaced.

“Your foot hurting?”

“Fucking killing me.”

I could see a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Want some water to take your paracetamols? Or I’ve probably got something stronger in the medicine chest if you…”

“Is it okay if I stay the night in Em’s room? The lift’s broke in my block and…”

“Course you can stay. Stay as long as you need to.”

“Thanks, mate.” Cory looked relieved as well as worn out.

“Those painkillers. Want to take a couple?”

Cory looked undecided.

“It’s getting late so it won’t matter if the pills mess with your head. Plus you’ve just eaten.” I smiled. “Promise I won’t shop you to the macho police.”

I was treated to a tired and somewhat lopsided grin that was even sexier than the smile he’d gifted me earlier. “Okay, you talked me into it.”

I got up quickly and dashed into the bathroom before my arousal showed. I’d gotten some pretty strong pain killers from the dentist a year or two back when I’d suffered a particularly painful root filling. I hadn’t needed all the pills because the pain soon went away of its own accord.