Page 129 of In at the Deep End

Owen smiled. “I know. You’ve never hidden what you’re feeling from me. At least that’s the impression you’ve given me.”

Matt glanced towards the open doors. “It’s just that… when he asked, I…” His cheeks were still flushed, his smile nervous as he scraped his fingers through his hair.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

What shocked Owen was how badly he wanted to hear what came next.

Matt locked gazes with him. “I realised I didn’t want to share you.”

His raw honesty stole Owen’s breath. No games, no coyness, no attempt to say the clever thing. Nothing but the plain, unvarnished truth.

I didn’t want to share you.

He could have explained, told Matt this sort of thing wasn’t unusual, that Phil hadn’t been offended, that everyone in the garden room understood boundaries.

What came out was so much simpler.

“I’m glad you told me.”

Matt let out a slow breath. “So am I.”

Neither of them moved for a second or two. From the dining room came laughter, followed by a chorus of mock complaints that somebody had cheated at cards.

And from the garden room came a low ripple of moans.

The party was carrying on, but Owen couldn’t escape the feeling his evening had just taken a completely different direction.

He inclined his head towards the house. “Come on. Let’s find somewhere quiet.” Matt fell into step beside him.

The lounge was still full. Half a dozen men were sprawled across couches watching the end of an action film, punctuating the explosions with running commentary.

“He’s definitely dead.”

“No chance. Twenty quid says he walks out of that building.”

The kitchen had gone the way of all kitchens during a party. People leaned against the worktops with mugs of coffee and slices of cheesecake, deep in conversation. Guests snacked on salads and crisps. Someone was laughing so hard they had to steady themselves against the island. A puppy ate from his owner’s hand.

Matt looked at Owen, his lips twitching. “So much for finding somewhere quiet.”

Owen peered down the hallway, his head cocked towards a door. “I think the downstairs bedroom is occupied. Not that I’m about to knock and find out. That would really kill the atmosphere.” He glanced at the ceiling. “And knowing this lot, every available flat surface will be occupied, so that takes all the bedrooms out of the equation.”

Matt leaned closer, his voice low enough to be conspiratorial. “Shall we see if you’ve got a cupboard big enough for two?”

Owen blinked. “A cupboard?”

“You know. Somewhere we can…” Matt made a vague gesture with one hand. “…talk.”

Owen arched his eyebrows. “Is that what you want to do?”

Matt held his gaze for a second before shaking his head. “No.”

That raw honesty disarmed him yet again.

Owen smiled. “I didn’t think so.” He reached for Matt’s hand, closing his fingers around Matt’s. “This way.”

Matt glanced down before lacing their fingers together.

Owen led him up the stairs, pausing at the door. “I don’t think you’ve been in here.” He pushed it open. “Welcome to my office.”