Page 9 of Love Around the Corner

It was tempting. He turned off his phone screen. If he left now he could go home and hide his heartbreak, pretend none of this had ever happened. No one could laugh at him if they didn’tknow. Solitary as an oyster, that was Leo Novak. He should have known better than to try being anything else.

He got to his feet, and there below him, visible over the railing of the High Line, was the Whiskey Jack. He couldn’t see Carter from here, but the golden light spilled out onto the sidewalk and Leo felt another stab of loss. He wanted to be in there with Camaro89. Moving closer to the railing, he shivered as a cold gust swept up and around the elevated park. In his pocket, his phone pinged again. Helplessly, he pulled it out and read the message.

Camaro89: Let me know if you’re running late

Camaro89—his friend—was sitting in there alone, waiting for LLB. And despite his own disappointment, it hurt worse to know that LLB was never going to show.

How long would Carter wait?

Leo’s fingers hovered over his phone. Should he reply? Make up an excuse? No. He had to end this, it couldn’t continue now he knew the truth. But he couldn’t just leave Carter sitting there waiting for a man who would never arrive. That would be cruel. Carter might think he was an asshole, but it didn’t mean Leo had to act like one. Yet the idea of walking in there and telling him the truth made him nauseous.

He bent over, pressed his forehead to the frozen railing.

What the fuck was he going todo?

***

Every time the door opened, Alfie felt a spike of hope—followed by a long train of disappointment.

No new messages on his phone, and the remorseless clock on the screen read 7.28pm.

LLB wasn’t coming.

He figured there were plenty of reasons why not: travel problems, something coming up at work or with family. Last minute cold-feet. A blast of icy air drew his eyes to the door again, but it was only a couple of young women leaving. His heart settled heavier in his chest, a tight band of distress constricting his lungs. He hadn’t considered the possibility that LLB wouldn’t show. They’d both been so ready to meet. So eager.

What if…?

He swallowed, tightening his fingers around his half empty can of beer. What if LLBhadbeen here, had seen Alfie and changed his mind? Perhaps, like Novak, he’d taken one look at Alfie and seen a dumb jock—all brawn and no brains. Perhaps he hadn’t given Alfie a chance.

A lump threatened to form in his throat, and he took a swallow of Street Green to wash it away. For fuck’s sake, get a grip. LLB wasn’t like that, Alfie knew he wasn’t. He was sensitive and sweet and thoughtful, and there were a dozen reasons why he might be late. And why he hadn’t replied to any of Alfie’s messages.

He checked his phone for the millionth time. Nothing.

The bar was starting to get busy and he felt conspicuous sitting alone at a table big enough for four, especially when he saw people at the bar eyeing him, ready to pounce when he left. How much longer could he stay here, waiting like a loser?

He’d give it another ten minutes. If LLB wasn’t there by then, he’d—

Another blast of cold air and Alfie’s head shot up, eyes fixed on the door and on the figure of Leo Novak standing there staring at him.

Jesus fucking Christ, as if this night couldn’t get any worse.

Novak looked ill. His face was pasty, with the exception of the tip of his nose which had turned pink with cold, and he was watching Alfie like a man eying his executioner. Alfie gave a slight nod and turned away, busying himself with his beer and giving Novak the chance to disappear into the bar.

So it came as something of an unpleasant shock to find him winding his way through the tables toward him.

“Hey,” Novak said, hovering uncertainly in front of Alfie’s table, his messenger bag still across his body and his glasses fogging up in the bar’s humid heat.

“I’m waiting for someone,” Alfie said immediately. “This seat is taken.”

“Right.” Novak sat down anyway, pulling off his foggy glasses and cleaning them on the end of his scarf.

For fuck’s sake. Alfie was about to protest when the door opened again and a young guy with blond hair and a pleasant face walked in alone, looking around. Looking for someone. Alfie’s heart skyrocketed. But Novak sat between Alfie and the room, hiding his copy ofPersuasionfrom view. “Look, do you mind?” Alfie said, making a shooing gesture. “I said I’m waiting for someone.”

“Yeah.” Novak looked different without his glasses, like a turtle missing its shell—naked, as if he’d lost a layer of defense. “Christ, it’s hot in here.” He lifted the strap of his bag over his head and started unbuttoning his coat.

“You can’t stay here!” Alfie protested, watching the guy who’d just entered walk to the bar.

“Why not? It’s a free country.”

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