Page 38 of Love Around the Corner

Leo didn’t move, staring through the frosted window at the inside of his car. Behind him, Alfie’s breathing quickened, but he said no more. Leo wondered whether they’d be stranded in this freezing limbo between apology and forgiveness forever.

And then he heard movement, the soft crump of a boot on snow. “Leo?” Alfie touched Leo’s shoulder, his hand lingering uncertainly. Leo closed his eyes, held an expectant breath. “Leo,” Alfie said again, more firmly this time. His grip tightened, tugging Leo back around.

He turned, not daring to hope, and found Alfie watching him with guarded eyes. “What I felt for LLB, what I feel for you—I don’t know how to reconcile them.”

“I understand,” Leo said, clenching his jaw against the chattering of his teeth. “It t-took me a while t-to reconcile you with Camaro89.”

Alfie’s fingers flexed on Leo’s shoulder, his brow creasing into a frown. “You’re shaking,” he said. “Shit, you must be freezing. How long have you been out here? We should go inside.” He let go, turning toward the Callaghan’s house, but Leo snagged his gloved hand and stopped him.

“Not in there. I can’t—” He couldn’t face a party, not with everything still unresolved between them. “But maybe we could go somewhere else and…and talk?”

Please, he thought, but dared not say it.Please.

Alfie looked conflicted. Leo could see it in the contrast between his scowling brow and the firm grip of his hand. He might be angry, confused, and hurt—but Alfie was still holding Leo’s hand, still concerned about his welfare. His heart leaped in unbidden, dangerous hope.

“Yeah, okay,” Alfie said at last, dropping Leo’s hand and shoving his own into his coat pocket. “Let’s talk.”

***

Since Alfie had walked up to Hanworth Hall—needing the time to think—they took Leo’s car home. They didn’t talk about where they were going, Leo simply pulled up in Alfie’s driveway. Neither got out of the car, both sitting silent and still. It was cold, the trip not long enough for the heater to have kicked in, and their breath misted against the windscreen. Outside, the stars were disappearing beneath banking clouds rolling in from the east.

Alfie turned, studying Leo’s profile in the pale glow of the porch light—his narrow nose, pursed lips, the colorless glint of his eyes behind his glasses. A confusion of fond feelings suffused him—something like love. Could itbelove? He’d only gotten to know Leo a couple days ago, but he’d been in love with LLB for months. Did that explain his sudden head-over-heels fall? Had he, in some subconscious way, recognized LLB in Leo? Alfie cleared his throat. “You want to come in?”

Leo turned to look at him. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I’d like that.”

The central heat was on inside, embracing them with warmth as they stepped through the front door, which was lucky because Leo was visibly shaking. Alfie felt a spike of remorse at having left him waiting outside for so long, aware that he’d done it on purpose—that he’d wanted to give Leo a taste of his own medicine. He regretted the petty vengeance now, as he watched Leo fumbling with numb fingers to undo his parker.

“Here,” Alfie said gruffly, reaching for the zipper.

“Th-thank you.” His words were a warm breath against Alfie’s face as he unzipped Leo’s coat and stood for a moment watching him. Close enough to kiss, but not kissing, Alfie’s heart raced along twin tracks of desire and doubt. He wanted to taste those lips again, to hold that yielding body in his arms—but who would he be holding? LLB or Leo?

“I’ll make you a hot tea,” Alfie said, turning away. “Chamomile’s good this time of night. You need to warm up.”

He busied himself putting the kettle on the stove and digging out mugs and teabags, but that didn’t keep him from hearing Leo pad into the kitchen in socked feet. It didn’t keep him from feeling his presence like heat at his back. Once the kettle started whistling and he’d filled their mugs, Alfie had no more excuses not to turn around and face the conversation.

Leo hovered just inside the kitchen door, clearly uncertain of his welcome. In the bright light, he looked weary, his face drawn beneath a flush of cold on his cheeks and nose, sleepless shadows gathering under his eyes. Alfie figured he looked pretty much the same; last night had been rough. An insistent tug at his heart urged him to cross the space between them and pull Leo into his arms, to hold him close and fill the cavernous void in his chest with the love he so badly wanted.

He held out a mug instead. “Here. Careful, it’s hot.”

With a wan smile, Leo came closer and took it. “Thanks,” he said, and lifted it to his face, breathing in the fragrant steam. He closed his eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing.

“So,” Alfie said into the long silence. “Leo Loves Books, huh?

He offered a wobbly smile. “That’s me.”

“Guess it is.” Alfie hesitated, sipping his scalding tea before setting it down on the counter. “And that night we spent together…?” His face heated at the memory of how much he’d felt. “Which version of you did I get? Leo or LLB?”

“Version?” Leo’s eyes widened behind his glasses, some of the flush draining from his cheeks. “There’s only one version, Alfie. It’s always only ever been me. I’ve never pretended to be anything else, I swear. Not in person, not online. This is it.” He gestured to himself with one hand, expression rueful. “This is me.”

Alfie’s heart cramped. It scared him, how much he wanted to believe that—how willing he was to open himself up to being hurt again. “I always thought LLB would be blond,” he grunted, in a vain effort to push back. “And taller.”

Leo made a soft sound of distress. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Ah, hell. “You haven’t.”

“No?”

Alfie swallowed, but couldn’t look away from the surprised, piercing hope in Leo’s eyes. “It was never about what you looked like. It was—” He shook his head, but it was too late to stop. And maybe it didn’t matter; maybe the whole truth needed to be spoken. “It was about how you made me feel. Whole, valued—happy, I guess. That’s… that’s how I felt that night with you.”

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