Page 2 of Exhale

I hadn’t thought this through, that part was blindingly obvious. Instead, I was irrationally impulsive and too shell-shocked that I’d once again agreed to meet a virtual stranger and once again I was throwing myself head first into the deep end. Girls had always kind of just fallen into my lap during nights out or drinks at the pub with friends. Those apps for meeting women had never appealed, not when I so easily danced between flings and relationships.

Did I really want to do this?

I hadn’t even told my brother where I was going. I’d just skulked off, slamming the door behind me like a truant teen. And now here I was, stepping off the train at Gardener Grove Tube station. I’d pictured an area dotted with troughs of plants, flowers and hedges. Instead, there was an industrial estate to the right, a depressing apartment block to the left, houses in shades of grey, kids messing around below the raised platform and a chain café on the corner with chairs and tables outside.

I stood there, taking deep, noisy breaths as I tried to make my legs move. He’d sent me a message saying he was at the end of the platform, next to the bench, happily waiting for me, but I didn’t dare to look for him. I’d recognise him, he’d assured me, followed by a string of his usual strange collection of random emojis.

I didn’t even recognise myself, standing there with the pale, spring sunshine on my face, my eyes closed as I took another uneasy breath. He was here. I was here. Worst-case scenario, I would be back on the next train heading home to safety, still a butt-virgin but with my pride and dignity intact. Best case? I would be back on a train tonight, a changed man, no longer a stranger to another man’s touch.

I laughed at myself and shuddered. What was I thinking? What was I doing? Okay. Deep breath.

I turned around and walked along the platform, following the stragglers. The train was long departed, leaving me walking almost alone. The last person disappeared down the staircase on the right, and then there was just me and a bloke standing awkwardly by the bench at the end.

I didn’t know why I’d pictured him as being much younger. Even at a distance, it was perfectly and painfully clear that he was a man, not a boy. He was the same height as me, but that could have been his hair, and the same build—broad shoulders shown off by a trendy bomber jacket teamed with washed-out skinny jeans and clean trainers. He was twirling a cigarette between his fingers. Painted nails, the colour different on every finger. That made me giggle under my breath because…I don’t know. I’d thought he’d be perfect. I’d thought he’d be someone I couldn’t measure up to. Yet seeing him for real calmed me down. He was just a messy, normal guy, and he looked utterly terrified as I approached him. He stared at me. I stared back.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” my mouth stuttered out with a stupid smile plastered on my face.

“Only when I’m nervous. I haven’t smoked today. I didn’t want to smell like an ashtray for you. I don’t smoke inside, just when I’m out. I should stop I know, and… Sorry, but, seriously, I can hardly breathe right now. You look like some kind of supermodel.”

You look like some kind of supermodel?He couldn’t be more wrong. But those were the first words Leo Leblond said to me.

LEO

OMG, my hook-up is a stunner. Wow! And…shit.

I could hardly function when flustered, and right now? I was more than a little bit of a mess. The man in the Grindr profile picture had looked completely different to the man now standing in front of me. The guy in the picture had seemed young and kind, a strong jaw hiding under masses of curls and a reluctant little smile brewing in his cheeks. He’d been trying hard in that picture—a little too hard because in real life, Jamie didn’t even need to try. He was beautiful, from every angle and in every way.

That was something I hadn’t expected, and I couldn’t have made it more obvious, staring like a fool and babbling bullshit at a hundred miles an hour, and dammit, I couldn’t bloody breathe!

“Breathe in, and then exhale slowly,” he said, this Jamie. “You sound like you’re having a panic attack. Please don’t.” Then he smiled, and my poor bleeding heart went into meltdown.

“You’re so damn pretty,” I blurted out, and Jamie, the bastard, smiled that supermodel smile of his…damn, those eyes. Deep pools that were calling me in like a doomed human being lured to my death by a wicked siren. Not that there was anything evil about the guy in front of me. He was almost bashfully tangling his fingers in his curls, and my stomach jolted with fear. Because look, it wasn’t like I could compete with that. I was a stupid kid with nothing to show. I lived on my own in a dingy flat, a mattress on the floor for a bed and a desk that was overflowing with stuff I was ‘working on’. Well, Iwasworking on my degree in French literature, and the overflowing stuff was all the books I was reading, over and over again, my laptop and printouts and endless Post-it notes. Jamie, no doubt had a posh, minimalist flat overlooking the Thames, where he stayed whenever he wasn’t on assignment forVogue.

“I’m not pretty.” He pouted with his lovely, puffy lips, and a little dimple formed in his chin.

I was done for. I wanted to kiss him. Hug him and climb all over him here on the platform. I hadn’t expected meeting up to go like this. I mean, I’d been the one who’d pushed for it, not him. I’d wanted to see if this Jamie person would finally be the one to fill the black hole of lonely solitude that had been eating me from the inside out for years, stopping me from finding anyone with whom I felt safe.

The fact I liked boys and was totally and irrevocably gay was not the problem. No, the problem was I’d meet men and let them have sex with me while I doubted my every move. Every single time. I’d had a string of bad relationships, the most recent one with a bloke who’d messed me around so much that I didn’t know who the hell I was in the end. I’d suffered through dates and hook-ups, each one worse than the last, until this past year, it had been just me, my hand and my dick. We’d stuck to gay porn. We’d hung out with hot studs with crazy muscles and insane cocks in the safety of online sites and bloody Twitter, but when it came to real life, involving real people? I’d chickened out. I just couldn’t face another disappointment. Another man who would smile at me and use me as I lay there wondering what would go wrong this time.

Finally, after a particularly long dry spell, I’d talked myself into some bravery and had gone to a gay club, then walked straight out again because it just wasn’t my scene. I couldn’t do it anymore. Hated the fake flirting, the pointless words and all the irrational worry that I just couldn’t seem to shift. So here I was, boldly throwing myself into online dating. It was what everyone did, right? A straightforward easy app hook-up would be the pill to solve my little problem. Get myself out there. Try someone else, someone who wouldn’t be an arsehole. See if this stupid phobia of dating that I had developed was an itch I could give a good scratch and get rid of, once and for all.

Jamie was for sure something I wanted to…scratch. Touch. Kiss his handsome face. Run my fingers through his curly hair. Jump and hope he’d catch me.

“Leo?” He waved his hand in front of my face, bringing me back out of my head. “Do you still want to do this?”

“Yes. Of course. Sorry,” I stuttered, my face flaming. I was doomed. I couldn’t even do this right. What happened tocharming, flirty Leo? I had no trouble whatsoever flirting with guys at uni, even at parties, like the one a few weeks back, except when it came down to it, I’d blown the poor dude a kiss and swanned off with my jacket over my head. I was apparently a dick when I was drunk on fear.

I should’ve had a drink before meeting up with Jamie. I should’ve smoked that cigarette earlier to calm my shredded nerves. I should’ve done a lot of things.

“Look, mate,” I said, sticking the unlit cigarette between my lips and sucking on it, hoping to get a little light relief from the invisible nicotine. “I need to tell you something.”

Clever. Yeah, because now Jamie looked all bewildered.

“No, no, nothing bad. I just want to set the record straight,” I word-vomited, and the poor man grunted at me. “So…so you kind of know what you’re dealing with.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”Bad, bad, bad. Crap. Here I go again.

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