An Unlocked Mind (Secrets #2)(50)

“A trip?” The prospect of having a tail stuffed up his arse had robbed him of all coherent thought.

“Manchester? Remember? To pick up your stuff?”

Damn. “Oh, yeah. Sure.” Rob got to his feet to follow Vic into the house. “You’re kidding about the pony tail, right? Vic?”

Vic’s shoulders rippled as if he was laughing.

Bastard.




ROB YAWNED as he entered the kitchen. He’d slept like a log. Surprising how tiring it can be, sitting in a car for six hours. The trip had been simple: up the M1 and M6 to Manchester, straight to his flat, where Vic had helped him pack up his clothing and the rest of his belongings; then, after stuffing all the boxes and bags into the car, they’d stopped to grab something to eat at a pub on the outskirts of Manchester before driving back to London.

Of course, it had been during their meal that Vic reminded him of the need to talk to his landlord. That casual remark had been enough to turn Rob’s belly into a snake pit, where things coiled and uncoiled in a writhing mass.

What if Vic decides I can’t stay? Then where will I be?

Vic had taken one look at Rob’s face, leaned across the table, and whispered, “I know what you’re thinking. And you don’t need to worry. Even if you decide you want to stay somewhere else, I’ll be right here to help you find it. I’m not about to toss you out into the cold, cold night.”

How the hell does he do that? Apparently, mind reader was yet another of Vic’s superpowers.

“And if you want to leave, I’m still going to help you find a job. I called Human Resources while you were asleep a while ago. There are always jobs going with the company. They’re going to see if there’s a position that might suit you. It would probably be basic to begin with, but it’s a start.”

Rob had stared at him in amazement. He ached to tell Vic just how amazing he was, except that didn’t get close to expressing how Rob felt. The weight that had been on his shoulders since he’d been fired was still there, only now Rob was no longer afraid it would crush him.

He had Vic to help bear the load.

They’d walked through Vic’s front door, and minutes later Vic had ordered a pizza. They had unpacked the car while they waited for the delivery, and then, once they’d eaten, both of them had collapsed on the couch and dozed off in front of the TV. Rob had awoken when Vic had nudged him and told him to go to bed.

“Good morning!”

Rob peered bleary-eyed at Vic. “Are you always this chirpy in the morning? Because if that’s the case, I may have to kill you.”

Vic laughed. “You need to wake up, sleepyhead, especially as you’re the one making our breakfast.”

Rob trudged over to a cupboard, pulled out a box of cereal, and then picked up a bowl from the draining board. “Bowl… meet breakfast. Breakfast… meet bowl.” He smiled. “See? That was easy.”

Vic leaned against the countertop, his arms folded across his chest. “Well, that would be great, except we’re having scrambled eggs on toast this morning.” He took the bowl from Rob’s hand and held it up to his own face. “Sorry, bowl. No cereal for you.” Then he turned it toward Rob. “Say goodbye to the nice bowl.”

Rob arched his eyebrows. “And I thought I was weird.”

Vic guffawed. “Was there ever any doubt?” Before Rob could get a word in, he opened the fridge to remove a carton of eggs, followed by a pack of butter. “Have you prepared scrambled eggs before?”

Rob snorted. “I’m on excellent terms with several different kinds of cereal. I think that answers your question.”

Vic merely stared at him. “Eggs are easy. Just remember the two crucial words—low and slow.” He plucked a spatula from the container next to the stovetop and then pulled open the pan drawer beneath it.

Rob frowned. “You cook them in a frying pan? My mum always did them in the microwave.”

“And they always bounced, I think you said,” Vic commented dryly. “Need I say more?”

Rob shuddered. “No.”

Vic opened a cupboard and took out a glass bowl. “Crack five eggs into there.” He gave Rob a hard stare. “That is, if you can do it without leaving any shell in the bowl.”

Rob took a knife from the knife block on top of the counter, and Vic handed him an egg. Rob gave it the lightest tap, and the shell cracked slightly.

“Harder than that,” Vic told him.

“Bet you’ve heard that before,” Rob quipped.

“Cheeky sod. Now break that bloody egg, or it’ll be lunchtime before we eat.”

Rob narrowed his gaze, then tapped again. The crack opened a little more.

“For God’s sake, just break the egg, okay?”

“Fine!” Rob yelled and brought the edge of the knife blade down hard.

There were egg and tiny fragments of shell everywhere.

Vic gaped at him, and then seconds later he erupted into laughter. “Well, that was certainly harder.” He pulled off two pieces of paper towel and mopped up the mess. Still laughing, he reached across to Rob’s head. Rob stilled, then relaxed as Vic removed a fragment from his hair. “It gets everywhere, doesn’t it?” He dropped the wad of paper into the bin and then handed Rob another egg. “We only have four more after this one, so don’t screw it up.”