Page 54 of Second Story

“How?”

Joe lists more workshop ideas between bites of great food beside an even better view of a Cornish sunset. It’s me he pays attention to as if I need convincing.

I pay attention to my own dinner and tell him, “Stop worrying that I don’t want you. Here, I mean.” By the time I look up, he’s grinning like he knows how much I meant that first sentence. And fuck, he always looked good to me, but this happy version who runs a hand through his hair means I don’t see anything but him.Joe.Someone I always wanted.

I also see an action replay of him on his knees for me, my hand in his hair, and him all but purring for me.

I want to touch him like that again. Need him to make that soul-deep rumble for me. Can’t wait to hear it and to be its motivation. It’s just as well the waiter brings more dishes. Spooning tiny desserts into Joe’s bowl means I get to make my own confession without looking at him.

“And you can stop worrying about Luke. He’s gonna say yes, because I’ll tell him that I’m more than okay with you coming back to stop kids from getting?—”

I can’t find the right word.

He does.

“Manipulated?”

I meet his gaze. It’s steadier than I sound. “Want me to be part of it? To tell the students what happened when Mum fell for the wrong person for a third time?”

“I…” His hesitation feels like him treading carefully. I can almost picture the edges of the crater left by whichever top boy gave the order to blow up my family. Joe sighs and the candle flickers. “I… I hadn’t planned on asking you.”

All my seagulls plunge once again until he reaches across the table. His touch to my chin is light but persistent, and I meet his eyes again. “Isaac, you were on my mind the whole time I wasplanning. Dad couldn’t stand to be around me when I followed the herd instead of what he taught me. Can’t think of a better example of someone who did the exact opposite.”

Joe takes a last sip of water, then pushes his chair back, and our dinner date is almost over. He speaks quietly but it still drums right through me. “You’re way stronger than I was.”

I carry that all the way back to the car park, Joe matching me step for step, and I have no idea if anyone is around to see me kiss him goodbye.

I don’t care if anyone stares.Can’t.His mouth is so soft for a hard man. So sweet, and not because he’s still chocolate scented.

He covers that stain as if only now remembering. “I should have got changed before dinner.” Seagulls cry but not loud enough to drown him out. “Didn’t want to waste a minute with you.”

I get in the van and wind down my window even though I don’t have time to hang around if I’m gonna keep my bedtime promise. I can’t help asking, “What will you do now?”

“Work. I need to prepare for tomorrow. Got a whole folder of new info to look through for the Luxtons.” He rubs the back of his neck again. “Would have read through it all on the way down. Couldn’t concentrate.”

“Train too noisy?”

“Nope. My brain was. Too busy thinking about seeing you again.”

He backs away from the van, and I’m as reckless as my little brother. I lean out to call after him. “Sorry I had to cut it short. London’s a long way to come for an hour.”

“I wouldn’t say no to longer.” It’s too early to see stars. I do the moment he adds, “Still wouldn’t have missed a minute of this.”

I bet my van coughs all the way back to Glynn Harber. But if it does, I don’t hear it.

I hear Joe on repeat instead, and Ruth must notice—the minute Lenny is tucked up after his story, and she’s settled in the living room like usual, she eyes me over her stack of marking. “You’re pacing.”

I can’t deny that. I can’t sit still either. I flick through Lenny’s book, returning to an inscription.

See you soon!

That’s what I want, and Ruth must notice. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right? As long as you’re back before the gates lock for the night, I’ll listen out for Lenny.”

“When do they lock?”

“Eleven.”

It’s nine now, and Joe still has work to do. Will probably be busy reading through that folder he mentioned. I still snatch up my keys and pray my van will make the half-hour drive back to a pretty fishing village.

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