Unforgotten (Forgiven)

on anyone, let alone that beautiful cat.
I tickled his chin until he swiped at me to go away. Taking my cue, I rolled out of bed and found the clothes I’d put on yesterday after the best shower I’d ever had. Seriously. Gus had two shower heads, one that detached from the bracket, and another that came from the ceiling like raindrops. I’d stood beneath it for ages, and legit never felt so clean. Shame my scuzzy jeans and vest combo grunged me up the instant I put them on.
Mia’s old room was green and pink, like a posh bar of soap. My battered bag was out of place. I tucked it under the bed and drifted downstairs, leaving the door open for Grey to find his way down when he was ready.
I already knew Gus wasn’t home. Felt it. His kitchen was exactly as I’d left it last night: pizza boxes and beer bottles on the counter. I tidied them away like a good houseguest and tried not to wonder if he’d abandoned the detritus of our dinner for a fuck-hot Grindr hook-up. I hadn’t heard him go out, or anyone come in, but then, I’d hidden under my pillow with my earbuds jammed in my ears to avoid just that, so...yeah. Maybe it had worked.
Back in the house, I put food out for Grey and changed the soil in his litter tray. Hunger licked at my insides, but I wasn’t about to raid Gus’s fridge. At some point, I’d have to take the money Luke had forced on me and brave the shops, but not today. Fuck it, I’d starve. Or find a delivery app that wouldn’t bankrupt me.
And Wi-Fi.
Boredom led to me roaming Gus’s house and trying not to nose around his stuff. Luke called, twice. I ignored him. It was only a matter of time before he showed up to give me agro, but I needed food before I faced him. My staple diet of packet noodles and buttered white bread taunted me. Cheap, shit, and so, so good. I opened Gus’s fridge a dozen times. Shut it without looking inside.
I drank water and paced the living room. It was a bachelor’s dream—huge TV, games consoles, and a vinyl turntable. The records were stored in a vintage cabinet loaded with photos of Gus and Mia’s mother on their bimonthly trips to France. I picked them up, one by one, fascinated, as I’d always been, by the contrast between Gus and Mia. She was as fair as he was dark, and to anyone who didn’t know her, delicate. Gus was brawny and strong, with hands a stranger would know were capable. I felt safe looking at him as he’d been when he was twelve years old. Now? Fuck. I didn’t have the headspace to unpick my years-old crush on him.
The front door opened. Startled, I put down the frame I was clutching and spun around.
Gus was already behind me, holding a paper bag. He was dressed in well-worn utility trousers, work boots, and a sweatshirt that had my fucking name sewn into it—well, half of it, anyway. Dammit, I’d forgotten he was Luke’s right-hand man at the family roofing company.
“I brought you some lunch,” Gus offered when I failed to speak.
“Why?”
“Because you’re as rude as my sister, so I figured you probably eat like her too.”
I rolled my eyes, but my grumbling stomach gave me away.
Gus laughed. “And am I right in assuming that you’re still not going to take the roast beef doorstop I got you from Cassie’s? That I’m gonna have to force it into your hand?”
“Shut up.” I snatched the bag from him and dug into my pocket for the roll of notes Luke really had forced on me. I peeled off a fiver and flicked it in Gus’s general direction. He dodged it and let it flutter to the floor. I was a pugnacious bastard and would’ve fought him for longer, but I was hungry, so I walked away and took my sandwich to the kitchen.
It had been a while since I’d last pretended to be a civilised human being. I searched Gus’s cupboards for a plate. Found one and dumped the gigantic sandwich he’d brought me onto it. Roast beef, hot mustard, salad, and mayo. It was literally the best thing I’d ever seen. I ate in greedy bites, unaware that he’d followed me until he chuckled.
I wiped my mouth. “Why are you watching me eat?”
“It’s cute.”
“Fuck off.”
Gus’s grin widened a touch. “Nope. My house. I can watch you eat if I want.”
I tried to be annoyed, but for the first time in my life, irritation wasn’t instinctive. Didn’t shoot through my nerves and sharpen my tongue. I didn’t mind him watching me. In fact, I liked it, though I couldn’t say why, and I was full way before I’d figured it out. I pushed the plate away with two thirds of the sandwich left. “Um. Thank you. I could’ve made some toast or something. You didn’t have to come all the way home.”
“Actually, you couldn’t have made anything. I ate the leftover pizza for breakfast, and the fridge is bare. And it was no sweat coming home. We’re working up the road all week.”
“We?”
“Yeah, me and your long-lost bro. He could do with a holiday, by the way, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
Gus filled the kettle and put it on to boil. “Why not? He hasn’t had a day off since he went back after that car ran him down, and that was like, a year ago.”
It had been eleven months. I knew it, because I’d attended the trial of the mentally ill stalker who’d terrorised Mia to the point of trying to kill my brother. It was the only decent thing I’d ever done for Luke, and it haunted me to the point where I wished I hadn’t done it. Brother of year, ain’t I?
Not in this lifetime. Luke, on the other hand, was a miserable git who’d sacrificed