I knew what he wanted to say. I saw it all in his stare. I love you. Thank you. I’m scared. I didn’t need him to speak the words out loud. “You want to go have a drink to celebrate?” I went to him. “Comeon.”
“Not more than an hour.” He sat facing me, his face turned upward. “I told Eileen that—”
“An hour’s fine.”
Finally, he leaned his head against my stomach. “I’m sorry, Allan. You keep getting the worst of me.”
I made him look at me. “Stop it. Come on, let’s go.” I pulled him up. I was so mad for him, I’d take what I could get. Worst. Best. Mediocre.
We grabbed an umbrella and our coats and stepped out into the deluge. The rain still came down, poundingthe sidewalk, filling the street drains quickly. We tried to keep the umbrella over us and wrestled with the wind, but eventually had to give it up.
“Fuck it,” Davinder said, his voice almost lost in the rain. He closed the umbrella and we dashed for the nearest pub.
* * * *