By Quarry Lake by Josephine Myles Page B

It’s not like I haven’t seen it
before.”
    Rob blushed,
but the words gave him permission to shuck down his shorts and step
out of them. He kept his gaze focused on the water’s edge, not
wanting to catch the disgust—or worse, total indifference—in
Tommy’s eyes. He lowered himself into the water carefully. There
was no shallow beach at the old quarry, proof that this was a
manmade feature rather than a natural part of the landscape. The
drop was steep, straight into water too deep to stand up in.
    “Fuck!” Rob
gasped, treading water and willing his lungs to slow down. He was
panting like Lex right now. The water burned cold against his skin,
and the only way to fight it was to start swimming, to work your
body until you got used to it. He made his way over to Tommy. When
he got closer, he could see that what he’d taken for a drop of
water on Tommy’s chin was some kind of piercing. A round metal stud
under his lower lip to match the rings through his earlobes.
Freaky, but kind of hot in a bad boy way.
    “Took you long
enough,” Tommy said. “You’re out of practice, Carver.”
    Rob ducked his
head, because shrugging was impossible while treading water. “Don’t
find much time for swimming these days.”
    “Your old man
still got you slaving away?”
    “He’s all
right. It’s not like he doesn’t work hard himself, and he’s only
trying to keep the farm from going under.”
    “That still a
risk?”
    “We manage.
Just.” But there wasn’t anything spare. No money for Rob to buy
fancy clothes and head out to a club somewhere, find himself a warm
body to bring him off. Even if he’d wanted to do that kind of
thing. Which he didn’t.
    Much.
    He wasn’t about
to dwell on his lack of any kind of love life, though. “How about
your old man? Anyone heard anything?” Fuck ! Could he put his
foot in it any more deeply than that?
    He could have
kicked himself when he saw Tommy wince, but then a grim smile
formed itself. “Last Mum heard, he’s living on the streets up in
Birmingham, marinating his liver in Special Brew. Serve him right,
the bastard. Least he didn’t come looking for me in London. I’d
have shown the arsehole where to get off.” Tommy shook his head
fast, water droplets spinning out and splashing Rob in the
face.
    Rob wanted to
lick the water from his face, trying for a taste of Tommy. This was
torture, wasn’t it? Deliberate torture for one foolish mistake
three years ago.
    His lower lip
throbbed, reminding him of the consequences of that stupid kiss.
Yes, he had to remember that. The horror in Tommy’s eyes, and the
pain of his fist colliding with Rob’s face.
    It would save
him from ever making the same mistake again.
    ***
    Tommy shivered
and gasped. Quarry Lake was nothing like the public baths in
Croydon. Bloody hell, how had Tommy forgotten how the cold water
caressed every inch of his body, energising him every bit as much
as it chilled? You could dive without goggles, no chlorine to burn
your eyes. And when you surfaced, you swam up towards the clear
sky, swallows flitting high above in their graceful dance.
    And more to the
point, there was Rob, just over there and definitely due a dunking.
Fuck, but he looked good. Face and forearms deeply tanned, damp
hair stuck to his forehead. Green eyes echoing the water they were
swimming in. Rob smiled, but it wasn’t the carefree grin Tommy was
craving. The one he remembered. There was something guarded about
Rob’s expression. Something Tommy could only blame himself for.
    Screw it, he
didn’t know how to make this right. Plan A had been to just blurt
it all out. Find a natural place to introduce it into the
conversation. Oh, and by the way, I am gay after all. And
totally single since I broke up with my boyfriend. Wanna crawl up
onto those rocks and fuck each other’s brains out?
    Tommy snorted.
Like there was any way he could say any of that with Rob looking at
him like he was little better than a stranger. And besides,