When he walks out of the building at six p.m., Atticus is standing outside, leaning against the wall. Dan is happy, embarrassed and aroused all at once. He can’t help but smile, though. Atticus pushes himself off the wall and says, ‘Hello, Daniel-sun,’ with such open affection that Dan’s head whips around to make sure no one can see them. The light in Alan’s office is off. He’ll probably be walking out of the door in a minute. Dan grabs hold of Atticus and drags him around the corner.

‘Oh, hello, sailor,’ Atticus says, surprised at Dan handling him so roughly. ‘This is a pleasant surprise.’

Dan wriggles out of his embrace and sets off at a brisk pace that most people would call a jog, Atticus included.

‘Why are we running? Are you that keen for me?’

‘Atticus!’ Dan says, in the voice he uses when Fitz won’t come back to have his lead put on. ‘Someone might see us.’ He marches them down to towards Queen’s Park.

‘So what? We live in Brighton. The gay capital. I don’t think anyone will be too surprised at two men walking along together. It’s pretty normal down here.’ Atticus reaches for Dan’s hand and clasps it, sliding his cool fingers between Dan’s sweaty ones.

Dan snatches it back as if he’s been burned. ‘It’s not normal for me,’ he hisses, tucking his hand into his jacket pocket. Poor Dan. All morning he waited to hear from Atticus and now he wishes he hadn’t. Kissing him was the boldest, most outrageous thing Dan has ever done. He needs time to process it. He briefly wishes only his leg was gay so he could cut it off.

Atticus stops suddenly and touches the back of Dan’s jacket. When Dan tries to walk on, Atticus says, ‘One minute, please.’

Dan has never heard him sound so serious, so reluctantly he plants his feet and turns to look at Atticus. A vein is pulsing in his neck and Dan wants to trace it. Fuck. No, he doesn’t. He wants to go home and see his dog.

‘I’m sorry, okay? Last night was … amazing, and you’ve been on my mind all day and I just wanted to see you. I won’t come to your work again.’

Dan sighs, the breath whooshing out of him in relief. Out, too, comes, ‘It can’t have been all day. You didn’t even text me until lunchtime.’ Dan cannot believe he said that out loud. He sounds like a petulant child.