Page 42 of Second Song

I love even more that his grumble comes with a flicker. It’s small—barely there—but I recognise his smile when I see it, and after almost a week?

Man, I missed it.

16

LIAM

I’m not saying I rushed my first job up in Blackpool. I will say that Rowan was one hell of a motivator to be fast and thorough—to get the job done well and hit the road back to Cornwall.

But he’s fast as well. I crane my neck to watch him hurry around his outdoor classroom, adding items to a box until a little girl asks to help him. Then he slows down, flashing another smile my way, and all of those packed workdays and the long drive back were worth it.

His next smile is a touch apologetic. He shifts his hold to take that little girl’s hand. Her wild curls are familiar. So is Rowan almost dropping the box a few times, only to clutch it tighter, and I wish there wasn’t a barrier between us. I’m so curious about what he’s decided is worth protecting this time.

Curious about it?

I want to carry whatever it is for him. I don’t know why that feels vital, but there is a barrier between us that stops me from helping. More than one. And I don’t mean the playground fence or that I’ll move on soon while everything Rowan’s told me suggests he’d happily root himself here. At least, he’d root himself anywhere that wasn’t his old school. He must have had such a bad time there to hate it the way he does. To escape it the way he did. To leave for another country for years, like he’s mentioned in our texts back-and-forth each evening.

Today’s additional barrier is physical—this new, sturdy safety fence running parallel with the outdoor classroom is proof that Dom Dymond has been busy while I’ve been gone. He’s cordoned off a secure path for site traffic, and that means I’m an extra few metres away, so I can’t quite see what Rowan carries. I still lean over it, peering, and here’s an unexpected blast from the past—Dom rests his elbows beside mine on this new barrier, settling in to take the piss out of me as if he was one of my old crew.

“Thought you weren’t back until Monday. Any particular reason you couldn’t stay away?”

“Maybe I want to make a good impression on my new boss.”

He snorts. “You’ve made a good impression on someone.” He nods towards Rowan, whose third smile my way is perfectly timed for Dom to see it. It’s also a dazzling repeat of what glued me to this spot the moment I saw him, and fuck my life, Dom also sees my attempt to return it.

He doesn’t outright laugh at what probably looks a grimace. I still hear humour in what he asks next, pretending he doesn’t know this answer. “Where did you say you were working this week?”

“Blackpool,” I grumble.

“Which is what? A six- or seven-hour drive away?”

Closer to eight after M42 chaos and Friday afternoon M5 carnage. I don’t bother to share that with him. It doesn’t matter. He’s busy teasing.

“And here I was thinking our project had got you all excited.”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

There’s no way I’m confessing how every night away only made me kick myself for scheduling jobs I didn’t even need to take on. Yeah, the cash is nice, but it’s not as if I need that motivator. Not with a lump of injury compensation sitting in my savings account and an early pension.

Dom lets me know loud and clear that he’s guessed my real driver even without me speaking. He nudges me hard, almost knocking me over, and that takes some doing.

“My Maisie says your Mr. Byrn is magic. That he’s one of her best teachers.”

“He’s something all right.” While we watch, Rowan almost trips, and I crane my neck some more, glaring at whatever made him stumble. “That whole space is a health and safety nightmare.” Planks are everywhere. Dom’s daughter wobbles her way across one, the pair of fairy wings on her back glittering.

“It’s good for Maisie,” Dom says easily as I count trip hazards that I have no idea how Rowan avoids, not while he’s engrossed in helping his little fairy balance. She must cast a spell, because he makes it safely almost to the end of the plank at her side, box still clutched to his chest, all without needing to be blue-lighted to the nearest fracture clinic.

She hops off at the far end, and he cheers. He also wobbles, and I lurch like I could catch him.

“Steady,” Dom murmurs, and I let go of a barrier I’d been a split second from vaulting. Rowan doesn’t need my help. He’s steady enough now, so why aren’t I? And why can’t I ignore Dom’s next chuckle instead of rising to it?

“What?” I snap, and quickly regret it when Dom’s eyes twinkle, and yeah, it’s been a while since I worked in a close-knit crew. Maybe too long because I’m so out of practice. I still recognise that I’ve only added fuel to a fire that Dom keeps stoking.

“You might want to make your move fast.” He crosses dusty forearms. “Because my Maisie already asked your Mr. Byrn if he’s single.”

Part of me wishes that I’d heard his answer. The rest of me issues a stern get-it-together order. Rowan and I had one night together and a picnic a week later. Yes, that blow job was intense but it’s likely he had an even more intense first week in a job that sounded like an escape, and escaping is a one-man occupation.

At least, it has been for me.

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