'You're home early.'

'Flying visit.' I say heading for the shower.

'So you're going out again?' She observes as I re-emerge and start to get dressed.

Ignoring her protests about 'how we never spend any time together anymore' I take a clean shirt from the closet and pull on my best black trousers.

'Oh very smart,' she says sarcastically, 'what's the occasion?'

'Umm, just going out with Darren and some of the guys, we're er, celebrating, end of the demo and all that.' Well it's only a half lie, Darren has finished recording the demo and tonight is a special occasion but not for any of the reasons she could ever imagine. I finish combing my damp hair, splash on some aftershave and move past her to leave. 'Gotta go, don't wait up.' I don't even kiss her goodbye. It never even occurs to me until I'm in the car that I neglected to do so, my thoughts are firmly fixed on Darren.

Fortunately it's stopped raining by now - wouldn't do to turn up for our first date looking like a drowned rat, kinda spoils the illusion some what and I want everything about this evening to be just right.

Driving back to his apartment I spot a shop that is still open. Dare I? Why not, it is a date after all. Pulling over, I get out of the car and make a purchase.

7 o'clock on the dot I'm back on Darren's doorstep, ringing the bell and feeling like it's prom night all over again.

He opens it and I catch my breath. He's wearing the blue silk shirt that he had on that first night I jumped him outside the club. The impish look on his face tells me that the choice is not coincidental.

'You look wonderful,' I tell him, my eyes roaming the length of his body and back again, then, drawing the bunch of red roses from behind my back, 'These are for you.'

'Daniel...' He puts them to his face, inhaling the scent.

'I know it's a bit cliché but...'

'No, no, they're lovely. Thank you. It's a been a long time since anyone brought me flowers.' A soft kiss to my lips. 'Mmm, you smell nice.' Another kiss, this one threatens to linger.

'Come on.'I remind him. We are going to do this.

'Ok, let me just put these in water and I'll be with you.'

Patiently I wait as he fills the sink and carefully lowers the roses in.

'Okay, ready.' He picks up his jacket and keys.

'Shall we?' I offer him my arm theatrically.

'You're serious about this aren't you?' He says as I lead him out of the apartment.

'Deadly.'

Once out at the car I open the passenger door and help him in before going round and getting in the driver's side.

'So where are we going?' He asks.

'There's a little Italian I know.'

'Thanks for sharing that but where are we going?'

'Yes, very funny.'

'Relax Daniel, we are allowed to be seen eating dinner together.' And his hand comes to rest on my thigh, remaining there for the rest of the journey.

Parking the car near the restaurant I again go through the show of opening the car door for him, my hand sliding round his waist as we walk the short distance and enter. 'Table for two?' I ask the waiter, my arm still firmly 'round Darren. The waiter doesn't even blink as he leads us over to a corner table, smiling he hands us our menus and then lights the candle in the centre of the table. Oh this is just too perfect. I feel Darren's foot slide up and down my ankle, making a nice warm feeling flood my body.

'Happy?' I ask him softly.

'Very, thank you.' The foot slides further up my leg.

'Cut it out.' I hiss. I wonder how the waiting staff would react if I just hauled Darren over the table and took him there and then? Hmm, probably not too favourably. Thankfully the foot slides back down and comes to rest between my feet.

I order a spaghetti bolognaise while Darren plumps for pasta and chicken. 'Easy on the garlic.' He tells the waiter, grinning at me conspiratorially. Too late I realise what I've done, I've unleashed the playful Darren, which normally is fine but in the confines of a fairly crowded, fairly up-market restaurant could be a bit tricky. Not that I begrudge him it for one minute, the last month or so has been stressful enough what with recording the demo and everything without the added complications I have managed to bring to his life. He is more relaxed than I have seen him for weeks. No more late night studio sessions, now it's just a case of sitting and waiting for Oli to work his magic.

Looking across at him, I catch his eye and smile. Flirtatiously he bats his eyelashes back at me, but even his long lashes aren't enough to hide the desire and happiness in his eyes. This time it's my foot that rises. Silently blessing floor length table clothes and candlelight, I slip off my shoe and casually slump down in my chair. Darren looks at me quizzically and I have the satisfaction of watching his expression turn to one of surprise, and then panic as my socked foot slides past his knee and upwards. His eyes narrow and darken as I successfully reach my goal. Rubbing him with my toes, I feel his cock twitch in response.

'Daniel.' He gasps before also sliding down in his chair. His feet shift under the table but I know there is no way he's going to be able to kick his boots off. He knows it too and gives up trying, settling instead for discreetly putting a hand on my toes and tickling them.

'Shit!' Instinctively I remove my foot, hitting my knee on the underside of the table as I do so. 'Ow that hurt.'

He just shrugs his shoulders as to say 'well what do you expect?'

Fortunately at that moment our food arrives but the games are far from over.

Spiking a forkful of his pasta, Darren slips it in his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick the sauce from his fork. 'This is good Dan, you should try some.' He holds out a new forkful. Leaning forward I allow him feed me, holding his sparkling eyes with mine as he does. He's right, it is good. Taking his napkin he carefully dabs at the corners of my mouth cleaning away imaginary specks of sauce. He takes another mouthful himself, this time running his tongue over his lips as he swallows. The tease.

I attempt to emulate his actions soon learning that what is possible with penne is not so easy with spaghetti. I suck it in between my lips in what I hope is a suggestive manner but only succeed in splashing bolognaise sauce down the front of my shirt. I should have known better than to wear a cream-coloured shirt to eat Italian. Darren finds all this highly amusing and continues to torment me by slyly running his tongue around his fork once more.

My only line of defence is to start stroking his leg with my foot again. Ah, that puts a stop to his little show. I guess it's difficult to concentrate on eating when your body is sending diverting messages to your brain. Assuming an innocent look I quietly continue eating my meal.

Eventually we both finish and Darren reaches across the table taking both my hands in his. Lovingly he massages the palms with his thumbs.

'Darren I...' I start. Go on, I tell myself, say it, it's only three little words, it's not that difficult after all you mean it. 'I...' He looks at me expectantly but before I can say what's on my mind the waiter returns and my nerve deserts me.

'Was everything to your liking?' He enquires clearing the dirty plates.

'Oh yes,' Darren replies looking at me, not letting me withdraw my hands, 'very much so.'

'Would you care to order sweets?'

Normally I would be tempted, I know they do a great 'Death by Chocolate' here but then I see the look on Darren's face, like the cat that has not just got the cream but the whole damn dairy. Did he guess what I was about to say? I prayed he knew it anyway. The words were only meant to be a confirmation, a vocalisation, so why couldn't I just come straight out and say them?

'Er, no thank you,' I hurriedly tell the waiter, 'just the bill please.'

'Death by Chocolate' or death by Darren. It's not exactly a hard choice. Oh and what sweet death it will be. I pay the bill trying to ignore the thrill of anticipation that now fills me. The not so subtle brushes of Darren's hand on my arm, my shoulders as we make our way to the exit not helping in the least.

Once outside he looks around and spotting a darkened doorway pulls me in. 'Thank you.' He whispers against my lips, before drawing me into a deep kiss that somehow manages to be tender and passionate at the same time. Like a lovers' kiss should be. 'I'm very proud of you,' he runs his hands over my shoulders, 'I know tonight took guts. It can't have been easy.'

Actually, I reflect, as we walk back to the car, my arm once more 'round his waist, it was surprisingly easy. In one way acting towards Darren like that in public, like we were together rather than just mates out for the evening, seemed the most natural thing in the world to do. I'm not sure whether this is a good sign or not. Now if I can only summon up enough courage again to tell him what I wanted to in the restaurant.

Driving home. I flick the radio to a local station that plays late night love songs. The soft strains of U2's 'One' fill the car. Darren closes his eyes and sighs contentedly, as we both start singing along. I turn the volume up so that the music totally consumes us. The look of complete bliss that envelops his face is beautiful and reward enough for the evening. No second thoughts, no screw-ups. I have made Darren happy. 'You know one day it's going to be your music that people are ringing up and requesting. Your songs that people are going to remember having their first kiss, their first dance to.' I tell him when the track ends and the volume is back down to a more reasonable level.

'Mmm,' he replies dreamily, 'one day Danny, one day.'


~Chapter Sixteen~

A short while later and we are back at his apartment.

Opening his front door Darren just stands there, leaning up against the jamb, blocking my entrance.

'Thank you Daniel, for a lovely evening, we must do it again sometime.' I see an evil gleam in his eye, the darkening of his normal of pale blue eyes, betraying his casualness. He's continuing the game, playing hard to get.

'Er, I think this is the part where you invite me in for coffee.' I prompt.

He gives a little divaesque pout. 'Now do I look like the kind of girl who puts out on a first date?'

'No, but then appearances can be deceptive.' I run my fingers over his cheeks, so smooth, so delicate.

'You can say that again.' He smirks grabbing my crotch.

That's it, all bet's are off. 'Sod the coffee.' I growl, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss. All the unspoken promises of the evening, the teasing, the play-acting, all end as I push him back into the apartment, kicking the door firmly shut behind me as I do so. Our hands are all over each other, his fumble with my shirt buttons, while mine slip up under silk to caress his back. 'Dan...fuck these buttons...Dan.' Mumbled half sentences gasped out in between frantic kisses. I move my hands down under his waistband only to discover that the little hussy has gone commando again. 'Darren,' I enquire breathlessly 'don't you ever wear underwear?'

'Not when I'm with you.' He replies cheekily, slipping from my grasp.

'Oh no you don't.' I make to grab him back.

'Patience, my dear Daniel.' Patience? Patience? That's the last thing I feel capable of at the moment. He heads towards his bedroom but when I follow he places a firm hand on my chest. 'Wait until I call you.' He commands.

'Darren, don't tease.' I warn.

'Wait.' He reiterates, 'All good things come to those who wait.' I don't like the way he emphasises those particular two words. I'm way beyond connecting the two together. Admitting temporary defeat I crash onto the sofa, my hand drifting towards my cock. It's already straining in painful protest, unable to contain myself I unzip my fly and take it into my hand, beginning to stroke the head, drops of pre-come gathering on my fingers.

'Hey that's my job.' A voice in the doorway says. Barefooted Darren comes over and raising my hand to his lips licks away the stickiness. 'Do you trust me?' He asks, pulling me to my feet. Bit late to be asking that isn't it Dar?

'Yes.' Of course I trust him. I'd trust him with my life, perhaps the only person I would.

'Good.' He finishes what he started with my buttons, pushing my shirt off over my shoulders and discarding it on the floor, all the time refusing to let me kiss or touch him. I could probably overpower him if I choose, there's not much in it but I'm sure I'm the stronger, but I don't. I want to see where this is going. So instead I stand there passively, trying to ignore the ache between my legs, as Darren removes my shoes and socks before my trousers are carefully pulled down and go the same way as my shirt. It hasn't escaped my notice that while I am now totally naked the only items of clothing he has shed are his boots. I arch an eyebrow at him in question.

'You trust me remember.' From his back pocket he produces a silk scarf and looks at me searchingly, waiting until I give a small nod before tying it over my eyes. Okay the scarf in itself doesn't particularly surprise me. I've always known Darren has a wild side, the guy's gone down on me on a kitchen table and in my brother's bathroom for fuck's sake. But the thought of where this is leading causes my already racing heartbeat to hike up a few notches more.

Having secured the blindfold to his liking, he takes my hand and gently leads into his room. The smell of melting wax and incense fills my nose and through the silk I can see the shimmering of flickering wicks. So that's what he was up to a moment ago. Walking me over to the bed, Darren guides me until I am sat in the middle with my back up against the headboard. I feel him leave me and hear him fumbling around with something in the direction of the small stereo system he has in here.

'Okay, you can remove the blindfold.'

Reaching up I slip the scarf off over my head. Darren is standing in the floor space at the foot of the bed with a remote control in his hand. Surrounding him on every conceivable surface are dozens of candles. The shadows they throw up silhouette his features to perfection.

'Now don't move, just watch.' He presses a button on the remote then throws it from him as the music starts to play. It's the song he sung to me in the club now lovingly laid down on his demo disc.

'I want to show you what I was thinking of while I was singing this song that night.'

Closing his eyes, he leans his head back and starts to sway his hips seductively as his hands move to his neck, brushing back his hair and caressing the skin there in slow deliberate circles. My breathing speeds up as he runs his fingertips up and down his arms. I'm practically coming there and then and he's barely done anything. A small moan of pleasure escapes his lips as he moves lower, brushing across his nipples through the silk, pinching them between his thumb and forefinger before starting to unbutton his shirt. Oh he's doing it so tantalisingly slow, running his tongue across his partly open lips as he does so.

It's taking every ounce of self-control I possess not to jump off the bed and help him in his task. Finally his shirt is open, exposing his pale chest and the soft hair there. His wandering hands skim through it as they make their way back to his deliciously sensitive nipples. 'Oh Dan, oh baby.' The breathless words come, his eyes still closed. Oh shit, the penny drops. He's imagining it's me doing that to him, my hands on him. That's what he was thinking of in the club; what it would feel like to have me touching him. It's too much for me. Spreading my legs, I grab my cock and begin to work it in earnest unable to stop myself uttering a low groan.

'Don't you dare come.' My beautiful angel issues the threat in forced pants. As if to refocus my attention he shrugs his shirt off completely, the sheer fabric making a faint swishing noise as it hits the floor. More moans as he lets his fingers drift over his abdomen before coming to rest at the top of his fly. I slow my pace, desperately trying to obey but can't help continuing to stroke myself, the pure eroticism of watching Darren touch himself is almost more than I can bear. Placing his right index finger into his mouth, he slowly draws it in and out, sucking on it as he does so.

'Darren...' My voice comes out as little more than a strangled plea.

Smiling he withdraws the finger glistening and trails it down his chest, leaving a damp path in its wake. 'Daniel,' he murmurs as he unbuttons his flies, freeing his already hard cock. The track has long since finished and the only sounds in the room now are our combined breathless moans.

Stepping out of his trousers, Darren opens his eyes and looks directly at me.
'Come for me Danny.' He murmurs seductively. Gladly. I up my tempo again as Darren's hands begin to move up and down his own shaft. Not pausing in his movements he walks towards to the bed and climbing on crawls to kneel between my parted legs.

'Ah, arghh.' Our moans mingle as I match him stroke for stroke, falling into his rhythm. Eyes locked we both pump furiously.

'Darren, fuck... I can't, I'm gonna.'
'Daniel...shit.'
'SHIT...DARREN.'

I feel the heady rush as I come hard and fast, my outpouring splattering all over my hands and Darren's chest. Almost immediately Darren also comes, releasing himself onto my stomach.

Collapsing on the bed next to me, he flings one arm across my chest in contented exhaustion. 'Daniel my love,' he breathes against my shoulder.

I turn into him wrapping my arms around his sated body, hooking my fingers under his chin to bring his lips to mine, my tongue darting out to lick the beads of sweat from his upper lip.

'Mmm,' Darren sighs deeply at my touch.

We lay there for I don't know how long before he gently draws back. 'Shower?'

It sounds like a good idea to me. However erotic it may be to have your lover come on you, the cold, sticky reality soon creeps in.


~Chapter Seventeen~

Hand in hand we go to the bathroom. Darren switches the shower on and we both step under the steaming spray. Taking a sponge I start to wash his chest and stomach, using long, lazy strokes to cleanse his marble skin. He returns the affection, deliberately using just a sponge and water, no shower gel, no foreign smells. It's become second nature to both of us, this attention to detail. With infinite loving care, he takes each of my arms, gently squeezing water over them before moving onto my shoulder, my collarbone, my torso. No part of my body is left unwashed, yet he does it in such a tender manner that instead of being aroused I am so blissfully chilled out that I just melt under his hands.

Smoothing back my damp hair he stands on tiptoes to place a kiss on my forehead. 'You finish up in here, no rush. I'm gonna sort out the bed.' Stepping out of the tub out he shrugs on the robe that is hanging on the back of the bathroom door and rubbing a towel through his hair leaves me alone with my thoughts. Not that I am particularly capable of stringing two thoughts together other the fact that I feel so happy and loved I think my heart will burst. Running my hands over my body one last time I turn the water off, dry myself and wrapping a towel round my lower body pad back to the bedroom.

A hint of incense still lingers in the air but now it's overlain with the heavier scent of our lovemaking. A heady combination. Curling up in a chair, I watch fondly as Darren finishes tucking in clean sheets. He really will make someone a good wife one day. Removing his robe he gets into the bed patting the space next to him. 'Stay with me a bit.' An invitation rather than a question.

Losing my towel, I slide in next to him, nestling into his embrace. The sheets smell crisp and fresh, the linen cool against my heated skin. Darren pulls me closer and I can hear a low noise coming from deep within his chest. It takes me a few seconds to put a name to it then I realise he is purring. Like a warm, well-fed cat Darren is purring and it's a beautiful sound. Lazily I run my hand up and down his thigh.

'Can I ask you something?'

'Four.'

'How'd you know that was what I was going to ask?'

He shrugs non-committedly, 'The subject was bound to crop up sooner or later. You?'

'Five plus a couple of one-night stands.'

'Whoa, so that makes you bigger health risk than me, that's some poetic justice in that I'm sure.'

I squeeze his leg. 'Wanker.'

'Yeah and...?'

'Yes, very funny.'

He shuffles 'round so that his head is lying on my chest. 'Tell me about them.'

'You really want to know?' I caress his still slightly damp hair

'Yes.'

'Wellll,' I sigh and screw my face up as if in deep thought. 'The first was Jennifer, senior year high school,' I raise my hand to count them off, 'a drunken fumble one night at a party, not terribly romantic plus she dumped me very shortly after for some college jock. Then there was Amy,' Darren takes my hand in one of his and helpfully bends my index finger down for me. 'Amy was intense, an older woman, well a college graduate anyway, we both had summer jobs in the same store. I was 19, she was 23. That one lasted a whole six weeks.' I take a deep breath, 'Are you sure you want to hear this?' He nods his head frantically. 'Ok, just remember it's your turn next, mister,' and I playfully tweak his nipple before continuing, 'Three,' my middle finger gets turned down. 'Thank you.' I can't believe we are having this conversation, even Rachel doesn't know how many people I've slept with. It's just one more example of the incredible bond of trust and love that has grown between us. I feel I can tell him practically anything with no threat of recrimination or judgement. 'Three was Claire, we were together for nearly two years, talked about doing the whole moving in thing but neither of us were really ready for that kind of commitment, she got the chance to work overseas and took it. Then I was single for a while before...'

'Four.' Darren announces gleefully, next finger down.

'Before I met Rachel, number four.'

Darren looks puzzled. 'What about number five?'

Smiling I wriggle my pinky at him. 'You're number five.' I tell him softly. His eyes shine and I have an overwhelming urge to pull him to me, to tell him all the thoughts that are currently running through my head, but he isn't getting off that lightly. Putting my free hand on his chest I curl my fingers in the fine hair there. 'Your turn.'

Groaning, he drops my hand and raises one of his in a gesture of defeat. Taking it, I bend down the thumb and begin counting. 'One...'

'One you already know about,' he tells me, 'one was Richard, year above me in school, which made him all of sixteen but boy was he wise beyond his years. He was new to the school and from the moment I laid eyes on him I was in love. I had always figured I was 'different', knew I liked boys but it took Richard to show me just who I was, to teach me that what I was feeling wasn't wrong, wasn't sinful or abnormal. I owe him a lot.' For a moment he looks wistful.

'What happened?'

'Our parents found out, he got sent off to relatives in Sydney, I got beaten to within an inch of my life by my father and forbidden to have any further contact with him, all very Romeo and Juliet. My father still won't talk to me, he's in denial. 'I didn't raise any son of mine to be a faggot' and all that crap.'

'I'm sorry.' I rub my hand over his chest, a feeble attempt at sympathy.

'Don't be - what doesn't break you, makes you stronger right? Anyway number two,' I push down the next finger. 'Two was Jon, friend of a friend, hmmm, we had a mad, passionate affair, lasted almost a year before we decided that actually we made much better friends than we did lovers. I'm still in contact with him. He and his boyfriend have just adopted a baby girl.' He smiles at the memory. 'Right, three.' Another finger. 'Three was good, I thought three was the real thing, roses 'round the door and all that, but it ended up being all give and no take, with me doing all the giving. So I split. And four...' I fold his ring finger over and his other hand comes up to cover mine, 'Four was a beautiful guitarist I met one night in a club in San Francisco.' Tenderly he presses his lips to our enjoined hands. 'And that's it, no one-night stands, no furtive fumblings in saunas, no nothing. You see Daniel,' and he raises his head to me. 'My problem has always been that I believe sex and love go together, everybody I've ever slept with I've done so out of love. Not lust or sexual longing but love.'

Does that mean what I think it does? Has Darren just told me that he loves me?

The look that he gives me is so full of pure openness and honesty that I am incapable of doing anything other then pulling him to me, crushing his lips in a fierce kiss which he willingly returns.

I hold him until his regular breathing tells me he is asleep, then I slip out of his embrace, moving to the living room to gather my clothes and get dressed. I'm about to go and take one last look at his sleeping form when I have an idea. Going into the kitchen I pluck one of the red roses from the bunch still sitting in the sink.

He looks so peaceful, so replete in his sleep that my heart aches and I wonder how more times I can stand to leave him like this. Silently I move 'round the room blowing out the remaining guttering candles then leaning over him brush a stray lock of raven hair off of his face. 'I love you.' I whisper, kissing his forehead tenderly, and carefully I place the rose on the now empty pillow beside him.


~Chapter Eighteen~

Of course it can't last, I know that, the lies, the half-truths, the deception. Things are steadily going from bad to worst between Rachel and me. I have finally taken the plunge and asked Oli about the possibilities of returning to session work deciding also that if and when I do I will sell the shop. Yes I enjoy it but I recognise that it's no longer enough. It's only half the dream. Playing on Darren's demo, even just that one track, makes me realise just how much I miss playing, miss the buzz, the high that performing can give you.

Not surprisingly I get two very different reactions to this piece of news. A 'You're what? That's wonderful.' from Darren and a 'You're what! Are you out of your mind?' from Rachel. But by now I am past caring, the pressure of attempting to keep two relationships going is beginning to take its toll. I know that sooner or later I am going to have to do something one way or another, I can't leave things as they are, it makes my head spin just to think about it. I live in constant fear that Darren and me will be found out. When I am with him it all seems so simple, yet late at night, lying in bed next to Rachel my brain performs endless somersaults as the doubts, the guilt creep back in.

I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that the person I am in love with is another man and strangely enough that doesn't bother me so much as the implications this now has on my life. Understanding and patient as he is Darren can't be expected to put up with this forever and Rachel deserves better.

Deep down I know that I am living on borrowed time.

In the end it is Oliver who figures it out.

I know Rachel resents the time I spend with Darren. She's of the opinion that he is a bad influence on me, encouraging me to play professionally again, keeping me out to all hours clubbing and drinking, well at least that's what she thinks we're up to. So despite everything, I force myself to make a concerted effort to spend more time with her. Though I continually ask myself whether it's really worth trying to save this relationship. I'm not sure I like the answer that keeps coming back. As a result of all this I haven't seen Darren for well over a week, which in itself is enough to make me edgy and uptight. It's not just the sex, the physical contact, Rachel has never really understood about my obsession with music, she calls it a hobby, yet Darren has made me realise that it is so much more than that. Music is his life and I want to be mine again. To live, eat, sleep and breathe it as he does.

Then, as is often the way, the day dawns when things start badly and just go downhill from there on in.

Under the pretense of being too drunk to come home I have managed to stay the night at Darren's, which makes a pleasant change from me having to sneak out of his bed at 2 am, and skulk home to my own. I hate doing it and I can only guess at how it makes Darren feel. Even though he agrees it is a necessary evil, I might as well sling a $50 bill on the bed as I leave.

I wake up and immediately I know something is wrong. I feel too content, too refreshed, like I have woken up naturally, which can only mean one thing. Groping over Darren's still sleeping figure I grab his small alarm clock and groan. I knew it. 'Fuck.' I mutter under my breath and start to clamber out of bed. Darren shifts beneath my departing weight and turns languidly onto his back.

'What's up?' He asks groggily. Wordlessly I angle the clock towards him. 'Fuck,' he curses. He needs to be up and out as well today, he's meant to be meeting with Oliver to go over some of the promotional material for his demo.

'Move your arse.' I command as I head for the shower, pulling the duvet off the bed for emphasis.

'Fuck you.' He protests at its loss.

'Later.' I yell back down the hall.

Seconds later he follows me into the shower and we give each other what has got to be the quickest wash on record, well for us anyway. 'Don't even think about it.' I threaten as his hand grabs for my cock. Swatting him away I step out of the water and grabbing a towel off the rail start to dry myself.

As he finishes up and gets dressed I hastily make us both a cup of coffee. Ignoring his protestations about the evils of caffeine, I thrust the mug into his hand and set about retrieving my clothes from their various locations around the room. Hmm, guess we weren't too concerned with tidiness when we got undressed last night. Well, as I seem to recall it was in a bit of a hurry.

And that's when an already crappy day turns just plain shitty.

'Shirt, shirt?' I hobble around pulling on my trousers as I hunt for my top. I find it all but kicked under the bed. 'Shit.' I exclaim holding up the offending article. To call it creased is an understatement and there is stain on the collar that looks suspiciously like, well let's just say it looks suspicious. Ok, I will myself not to panic, Darren must have an iron round here somewhere, 'Iron, Darren where's your iron?'

'No time mate, look.' And he points to the clock.

'Shit, shit.' Now I start panicking.

'Hey, no worries, you can borrow one of mine,' grinning broadly he goes over to his closet and quickly selects a deep purple button-down. Holding it up against me he smiles approvingly. 'Good colour on you Dan.'

'Whatever,' I mutter gratefully slipping it on and fastening the buttons. Right now I'm more concerned with getting to the shop and opening up on time. I might be looking to sell it but until Oliver comes through on his offer of work, it's all I've got.

'Keys?' I ask patting my trouser pockets.

'Dan. Heads up,' Darren throws me my car keys.

'Cheers, I've got to go.' I plant a quick kiss on his cheek, 'Bye handsome, call me, let me know how it goes with the promo people.'

If he calls a farewell in return I don't hear it, I'm already out of the door and in my car.

I must admit I get a perverse kick out of walking around all day in one of his shirts. It's as if I have a tangible piece of Darren with me and in a way it's comforting, like a child who, on the first day at kindergarten, is given his mother's scarf to look after. He must have put it away worn as I can detect the faint smell of him still in the fibres. I keep catching the scent of it and can't help but smile. A lingering odour of aftershave, washing powder and Darren.

Mid-afternoon I get the call I have been waiting for.

'Dan, I've got some work for you, if you're still interested.'

If I'm still interested! 'Yes.' I all but scream down the line.

'Drop by after work then, I've got papers for you to sign.'

Oli you are the best brother in the world. Not that I tell him this of course, he's got a high enough opinion of himself without me adding to it, but silently I bless him a thousand times over.

I immediately call Darren. Predictably he's overjoyed. His meeting also went well, the demo is now ready to be sent out, his dream inching one step closer. Maybe today isn't turning out to be so bad after all. How wrong could I have been?


~Chapter Nineteen~

Oliver's still hard at it when I stick my head 'round the door of his office later that evening.

'Dan, hi, come in. Here you are.' He pushes a sheaf of papers across the desk to me. 'I've got a three-piece grunge-style group coming in next week. They need a kick-ass guitarist for some of the backing tracks, up for it? Should last a couple of months. It's not much but it's the best I've got at the moment.'

'That's fine, just show me the dotted line.'

'I've put the word out that you are back in action so we'll see what else turns up.' He turns back of the pages and indicates where the sticky tabs are where I need to sign.

'It's a standard short-term contract but I took the liberty of running it past Harry for you.' Harry's our family lawyer.

'Oli, if you say it's kosher then that's fine.' I start to sign where indicated. 'Besides you know better than to try and stitch up your own brother.'

'Especially when he's sleeping with my star artiste.'

'What!' I pause pen poised. Ok, he might just be dicking around. I try and ignore the fact that my palms have suddenly gone very clammy.

'You know you really should tell Rachel about Darren.'

'About Darren?' I say cautiously. First line of defence, play dumb. Hands shaking I continue signing.

'Yes, about Darren. Your other woman.' I look him in the eye. He's not shitting me. He knows, fuck knows how, but he does.

'What, but, how...'

'Bro, that shirt may look very good on you but it looked even better on Darren when he wore it for a photo shoot the other day, brought out the paleness of his skin, or so the stylist said.'

'So I crashed the night at Darren's and borrowed a clean shirt.'

'Daniel how many times have I covered for you in the last few months? Look at you, you're happier than I've seen you for a long time - you're even playing again. You're not telling me that the two aren't connected. I sign up a new singer and suddenly you're asking me about session work? It's common knowledge you two hang out a lot; you've just admitted you stayed the night at his place, and yet you've both waltzed in here today with 'I-got-the-greatest-lay-of-my-life-last-night' looks plastered all over your faces. Now, I know you are seeing someone so unless you are involved in some sordid little threesome, it doesn't take a genius to do the maths. Man, you've got to tell her, you know she's gonna find out sooner or later. Take a piece of advice from your big brother, tell her now before she finds out from someone else.'

'Yeah and what am I gonna tell her, hey Rachel, by the way I've been messing around behind your back and, here's the really good bit, it's with another guy.' I wouldn't say my voice was hysterical, others might.

'Just tell her.' Oliver re-iterates.

My first instinct is to call Darren but I can't. He's working at the club tonight besides it's not the sort of thing that I want to discuss over the phone. I toy with the idea of going down there but just as quickly dismiss that. Nobody sees their mates two nights on the trot without very good reason, the last thing I want to do now is raise more suspicion. Plus I want time to think this over. I want to tell him in the clear light of day, not when he's all hyped up after a set.

I spend a very sleepless night turning Oliver's words over and over in my head. I know he's right. If he's managed to figure it out, how long before someone else does? How long before someone realises that the gentle brushes on the arm as Darren passes me aren't simply because he wants me to move out of the way or that when we meet each other publicly the eye contact lingers for just a few seconds longer than is strictly necessary?

The following morning, as soon as I get into work I call him, knowing full well that he will still be asleep but risking it anyway.

'Dar, it's me.'

'Daniel, lovely though it is to hear your voice have you any idea what the time is?'

'Darren are you free for lunch, something's happened, I need to see you.'

Instantly his whole demeanour changes. 'What's up? Are you ok? Has Oliver changed his mind?'

'No, no, nothing like that. I'm fine,' I reassure him, 'I'll explain when I see you.'

He doesn't sound convinced but agrees to meet me later.

That just leaves me the rest of the morning to sweat through.


~Chapter Twenty~

When Darren arrives I lead him to a nearby park where we can talk undisturbed.

'So?' He is clearly concerned by my agitated state.

'Oliver knows.'

'Knows what?' Great, pick today to be dense Dar.

'About us.'

'Well it was bound to happen.' Strangely he doesn't seem as bothered by this as I thought he would be.

'Yeah, but not now, not like this.'

He appears not to have heard me.

'Maybe it's not such a bad thing that he's found out.'

'Excuse me?' I can't believe he said that.

'I've been doing some thinking.'

Huh, oh, this sounds serious.

He indicates a nearby bench and we sit down. Despite all that's happened I instinctively lay my head against his chest, his arm goes round my shoulders.

'Daniel,' he starts softly, 'the last thing I ever wanted to do was break up your relationship, hell I even wish sometimes that you had never come back to the club.'

My head snaps up. 'What?'

He sighs. 'Personal policy. Never get involved with anyone already in a relationship, but you Daniel,' his fingers play in my hair, 'you were too good to let slip through my fingers.'

'And you think I make a habit of cheating on my girlfriend?' I sit up, unable to stop the indignation rising in my voice.

'No I don't,' I let him pull me back down to him. 'Oh this is all such a mess, why couldn't I have met you five years ago?' He lets the question just hang there but I can tell that he still has more to say.

'Daniel, I can't do this anymore,' he says eventually, 'Hear me out,' he places a finger over my lips, silencing my protests, drawing me up to sit facing him. 'I love you,' he takes my hands in his, 'and I want to be with you but I can't go on like this, I can't stand all this cat and mouse. I want to shout it from the rooftops, not skulk around as if we're doing something wrong, because we're not. I can't stand not being able to touch you, kiss you when we're around others.' His voice begins to break. 'You've got to work out what you want. What do you think it's doing to me knowing that every time you leave me you're going home to her?' He can't even bring himself to say Rachel's name. 'It's killing me Daniel. I don't want to share you, not with anyone, not anymore, which is why,' and he takes a deep breath. 'I don't want to see you again until you have made a decision. I'm sorry beautiful one but I have to know where I stand.'

'You're forcing me to choose?' I jump up and glare at him angrily. I want to scream and shout but will myself to remain something approximating calm.

'Daniel, you've got to make up your mind what you want, or does what we have mean so little? Am I just a phase, a bit of fun?'

His words cut deep. 'No never, it means everything, you mean everything.'

'Well then, yes choose.' His eyes fix me imploringly and I know he is in as much pain as me; he's just stronger than I am.

'I can't!' And now I do shout. There is no choice, I want to say. It's you I want to be with. But he is already getting up.

'Dan go home, figure out what you want and when you have call me.'

'No!'

'Goodbye Dan.' And with that he is gone.

I know I should go after him, tell him how much I love him, how I want to spend the rest of my life with him, but I know it will do no good. Once Darren's made up his mind nothing will shift it. So instead I just stand there rooted to the spot, watching him fade into the distance as my world comes crashing down around me.


~Chapter Twenty-One~

The next 24 hours are a living hell. Even the prospect of playing again fails to lift my mood. In fact it's the last thought in my mind. I move through life on autopilot, as if caught in some terrible nightmare, always hoping that in a moment I will wake up and everything will have magically resolved itself.

I snap at Rachel and she snaps back. We have degenerated into being unable to exchange more than a few words without sniping at each other. She knows something is troubling me but doesn't bother to ask what. Either she is too scared of my reaction will be or maybe she just plain doesn't care anymore. She is still furious about me wanting to play again especially as I've told her I'm also selling the shop. 'You are throwing your whole life away, that shop is our security, our future.' is the summed total of her support on that decision.

By the next evening I am a nervous wreck. In desperation I take a walk up to the buff overlooking the bay and numbly ponder the murky depths of the bay. I never asked to fall in love with Darren, I never thought I could feel this way about another man but I do and the thought that I might lose him scares me shitless. The thought of what I have got to do if I want to be with him scares me even more. My life is such a mess, I feel so empty, so alone. I know what I should do, I just hope I have the courage to go through with it.

I stare at the waves crashing on the rocks below. Oh how easy it would be to climb over the rail and plunge down, throw myself on the mercy of the cliffs below, to let the churning water consume me, purge all the hurt, the guilt, have the ocean make the decision for me. But I am too much of a coward to even do that. Instead I return home to what I know will be an empty house.

The shrill whistle of the tea kettle pierces through my troubled thoughts, forcing me back to reality and I move to silence it. I have made my decision. I guess if I were brutally honest I made it a long time ago.

Hurriedly I go into the bedroom and wretch open my closet. Grabbing an overnight bag I pack just the essentials, I don't have much time and want to get this over with. Then picking up my guitars I go and put it all in the boot of my car. I hesitate as to whether simply write a note and leave but I can't. The very least I owe her is a face-to-face explanation, however painful that might be.

Now there is nothing to do except wait for Rachel to get home from work. This is going to break her. I sit and wait in the living room, the evening gloom enveloping me.

Not long after I hear the door open. //Well here goes.// My stomach contorts itself into knot-upon-knot, a sick nausea filling my senses. It's not too late to back out, I tell myself but the thought of what or rather whom is waiting for me on the other side of town strengthens my nerve.

'Daniel?'Sshe knows I must be home as my car is parked outside.

'I'm in here,' I call out, sounding a lot calmer than I feel

'Daniel, what's wrong? Why are you sat here all in the dark?' She flips on the light.

'Sit down.' I say, making no effort to get up and greet her. 'I've got something to tell you.'

'What's the matter? Are you ill?' She makes to place her hand on my forehead but I abruptly swot it away.

'No. I'm not ill.' Fuck, how do I do this? Taking a deep breath I say flatly, 'I'm leaving.'

'You're what?' She backs away from me. Confusion writ large upon her face. 'Why? I know things have been rough lately but we'll come through, we always do.'

'Not this time.'

'Is this to do with you selling the shop?'

'No.'

'Then what? I don't understand.'

Oh shit, please don't make me spell it out.

'Daniel talk to me dammit. Why?' Her voice rises by at least two octaves.

'I've met someone.'

'What, no no, this can not be happening.' She sways and I take a step towards her. She recoils as if burnt. 'Don't touch me. Get away from me!' Going for the nearest thing to hand, she picks up the fruit bowl from the coffee table. 'Who?'

'It doesn't matter.'

'Who?' Rachel repeats, the empty bowl making contact with the wall inches from my head. It smashes into dozens of ragged pieces.

'Darren.'

'Darren!' She's screaming now, a coffee mug joins the fruit bowl, the dregs dripping slowly down the wall. 'Oh, OH,' realisation dawns, 'all those nights you were supposedly at Oliver's, all that 'I'm just hanging at the studio' crap, and all the time you were SCREWING DARREN! No wonder you...' Horror fills her face and she drops to a low whisper, 'You were imagining it was him weren't you, when we...'

'It wasn't like that.' I interject. Why am I even trying to explain, it's gone way beyond explaining.

'Then what was it like Daniel, because right now I'm having real difficulties understanding this.' She's back to screaming. If her voice goes up anymore, she's gonna start shattering glass on vibration alone.

'I love him.'

'You love him! Don't make me laugh. GET OUT,' her hand hovers overs a paperweight, 'JUST GET THE FUCK OUT!'

I need no second telling, her aim is getting dangerously accurate. Tears fill my eyes as I take one final look at her and wonder what have I done? Well it's too late for second thoughts now, for good or bad I've made my choice.

I make it as far as the car before I break down completely. Hot fat tears stream down my face but whether from anger or relief I don't know. Starting the engine I put the car into reverse and begin the drive over to Darren's. I just hope he'll still have me.

I must look a sorry state as I stand there on his doorstep waiting for him to answer the bell. My face is streaked with tears, my eyes all red and puffy, my hair messed up from where I have spent the last five minutes pulling my fingers through it waiting for the tears to subside.

Then he opens the door and all doubt is gone. My beautiful prince stands before me as handsome and as gallant as ever.

'Darren I love you.' is all I can manage before my sobs resume and I feel his strong arms come 'round me, drawing me in.

'Ssh, it's over, it's going to be ok.' His lips meet mine and I know then that he's right.