ONLY EVER MINE

CHAPTER 2

"Why not."

"Because I'm working."

"You've been working for forty minutes on the first day back. That's a problem."

"For who."

"For you. Psychologically."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine you're—" Kayden sat up. "Just one round. I'm bored." He whined

"That's not my problem."

"Adrian."

"Kayden."

"One round. Then I'll leave you alone."

Adrian stopped typing. Didn't look up but stopped typing which was practically the same as yes and they both knew it.

"Terms," Adrian said looking at Kayden with a smug expression.

" The s*****y term of course Every request. No complaints. No renegotiating."

Now Adrian looked up. He had the expression he used when he was calculating something — still faced, eyes slightly narrowed, the kind of quiet that meant his brain was doing several things at once.

"Fine," he said.

He closed the laptop.

They cleared the space between the beds. Sat on the floor facing each other, lamp throwing a circle of warm light around them. Kayden rolled his shoulder. Cracked his knuckles one by one. Adrian watched him do all of this without any expression at all.

They locked hands.

Kayden registered immediately that Adrian's grip was strong. Stronger than he'd expected or maybe stronger than he'd let himself remember. He adjusted. Planted his elbow. Breathed out slowly.

" That bastard " he muffled

"Count," Adrian said pretending not to hear him.

"Why do I have to count."

"You suggested it."

"That doesn't mean I have to—" Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Three. Two. One."

---

**ADRIAN'S POV**

I made my first mistake before we even started.

I looked at him.

Not a glance. I looked at him. That was the mistake I always force my self not to make that bastard Kayden as a way of mesmerising people or better still bewitching.

Kayden was concentrating. I could tell because of the thing he always do with his lip — caught between his teeth, the left side, always the left side, when he was genuinely pushing hard and trying not to show it. His vest had slipped off one shoulder at some point during the unpacking chaos and he hadn't fixed it. It hung loose, the old kind of fabric that had been washed too many times and gone soft. There was a thin line of sweat at his temple from the day. His cheeks were flushed.

He looked the way he always looked when he was competing.

Completely and infuriatingly alive.

I noticed the vein running up his forearm. The way his jaw was set. The sound of his breathing — controlled, deliberate, the rising and falling of his chest and my eyes went back to his lips.

I'd seen Kayden hundreds of times.

And I know why I always see him differently.

My grip softened.

One second. A fraction of pressure. It shouldn't have been enough.

Kayden felt it immediately — his eyes snapped up to mine and there was a moment, less than a second, where something crossed his face that I didn't have a name for and didn't want one. Then his arm drove mine down and it was over.

My hand hit the floor.

"Ha," Kayden said.

Just that. Just ha. But the smile behind it was— it was enormous. Unguarded. The kind of smile that took up his whole face and made the room feel smaller and I looked away from it and stood up and went back to my bed and picked up my book.

"Black coffee," he said. Still slightly breathless. "No sugar. Six AM tomorrow."

"Fine," I said.

"You have to say it like you mean it."

I turned a page.

"Adrian."

"Goodnight Kayden."

"It's seven PM."

"Goodnight."

---

By ten the temperature had dropped.

I was already under my duvet because I had checked the weather before packing like a person with basic planning skills. Kayden was on top of his sheets with his arms crossed around him . I know he was cold and he was trying to contain heat.

Idiot " I muttered under my breath

I could have said something.

I waited instead.

Eleven minutes this time. Longer than I expected.

"Is your side of the room hotter?" he said.

"It's one room."

"It feels like your side is hotter."

"Kayden."

"I'm just making an observation."

"The temperature is the same on both sides. It's one room. There's one window. The laws of physics don't rearrange themselves for your convenience."

"Okay you don't have to be rude about it."

"Get your hoodie."

Silence.

"I can't find my hoodie."

I looked up from my book. He was still staring at the ceiling. Not looking at me. Jaw slightly tight.

"Did you actually unpack?" I said.

"Yes."

"Did you unpack or did you open your bag and move things around."

"That's the same thing."

"It's genuinely not."

"Adrian." He turned his head and looked at me then. Full eye contact. The look he used when he was about to say something that required me to already be on his side before he said it. "It's cold."

"I know."

"I'm cold."

"I can see that."

"So—"

"No."

"I haven't asked anything yet."

"Whatever you're about to ask, no."

He looked at the ceiling again. I went back to my book.

Two minutes.

"I could get sick," he said. "If I'm cold all night. Sick at the start of term. That would affect practice. Which would affect the team. So really this is bigger than just me—"

"Kayden."

"I'm just saying there's a wider impact—"

"Go to sleep."

"I can't sleep if I'm—"

"Then lie there and be cold."

"That's actually—" he stopped. Regrouped. "You know what fine. Fine. I'll just lie here. In the cold. Alone."

"Okay."

"You're really comfortable with that."

"Very."

"Good to know."

Silence. I closed my eyes. Not sleeping — just closing my eyes because I know that's what he was waiting for.

I heard him shift. The creak of his mattress. Shift again.

Then nothing for a while.

Then the sound of his feet on the floor.

I kept my eyes closed.

The duvet lifted. The mattress dipped. He settled on the far edge with his back to me, leaving a gap between us like that made it a reasonable thing he had done.

"I know you are awake," he said.

I said nothing.

"Your breathing changes when you're faking sleep. Did you know that? It goes too even. Real sleep breathing isn't that regular. You've been doing it for years and I've never told you because it's funnier not to."

I said nothing.

"Okay," he said. "Goodnight then."

I lay there.

The room was quiet. The wind was moving through the courtyard trees outside the window. Kayden's breathing was evening out — slower, deeper, the real kind, the kind that actually wasn't regular in the way he'd just described, the kind I apparently knew well enough to recognize.

He was asleep in minutes.

Out completely. The way he always went — quickly and entirely, like sleep was something his body was good at, like his brain didn't keep him up the way mine kept me.

I stared at the ceiling.

The gap between us was maybe five centimeters. His body had drifted slightly toward the middle without permission, toward warmth, the way sleeping bodies did.

I was very aware of the five centimeters.

I was also aware that I was being ridiculous.

He shivered. One small involuntary thing. His shoulder pulled in slightly.

My arm moved.

I couldn't help it. It was already happening before I'd thought about it — pulling him in, settling him against my chest, my arm around his shoulders. He moaned softly with content like this was somewhere he'd always been.

My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the wall.

*Cold,* I thought. *Basic thermodynamics. Body heat shared between two people in a cold room is more efficient than one person being cold and the other feeling responsible for it. This is practical.*

His hair was just below my chin.

*He'd be unbearable tomorrow if he slept badly. He'd blame me. I'd have to hear about it all day. This is self-preservation.*

His heartbeat was slow and steady against my arm.

*This is nothing,* I told myself.

My arm tightened again

*Nothing,* I thought again.

Outside the wind moved through the trees.

I didn't sleep for a long time.

But I didn't let go either.