Page 33 of Twice Shy

He was fucked.

Ollie sank into a crouch, overwhelmed suddenly by fear. Now what? He couldn’t get to work without a car. He’d lose his job. He’d lose his apartment. He’d lose the boys. Pressure built in his lungs, too much to suck in a breath. He couldn’t breathe. Tears stung his eyes. And he couldn’t stop shaking, from cold or adrenaline, or pure fucking fury that this lightning bolt had struck from the blue.

No car, no work, no income. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

What could he do? What would he tell Rory? Christ. Rory. He couldn’t tell him he’d been in a traffic accident. It would terrify the kid. He pressed a hand to his mouth, feeling the wobble in his lips. His throat closed, heart thudding, blood rushing through his ears.

Panic. Pure petrifying panic.

The woman said something. He heard her voice but couldn’t understand the words, then her hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. He didn’t look up. If he moved, drew breath, or tried to speak, his panic would slip out between his fingers and he’d never get it back under control.

And then there were sirens. Distant blue sirens drawing closer.

He closed his eyes, focused on the sound. Police. Rescue. Safety. Hold it together. Just hold itto-fucking-gether, Oliver Snow.

∞∞∞

November seemed like an odd time of year to host an ice-cream social, but Joel figured Jackie hadn’t been able to resist the pun. So here they were in the school hall for the Halloween Ice-Scream Social.

The PTA Committee had done a great job with the decorations—spooky, but nothing to scare a kindergartener—and with the main lights dimmed and a scattering of plastic pumpkins with electric candles, it didn’t look much like the school hall anymore. The kids would love it.

His job was to serve up the ice-cream while Alyssa and today’s press-ganged moms supervised the syrups, sprinkles, and other spooky goodies the kids could use to turn their scoop of vanilla into something truly terrifying.

Ollie had offered to help set up, but he hadn’t arrived yet. And it was embarrassing how often Joel’s gaze flitted to the hall doors when they opened, and how disappointed he felt when Ollie didn’t walk through them. Truth was, he’d been anticipating this meeting. Anticipating it a lot more than he should, given that he’d decided not to pursue things between them after their coffee date.

Non-date.

Not because he didn’t want to but because he wanted to too damn much. Ollie Snow occupied too many of his thoughts. Joel found himself contemplating the shape of his smile or speculating what it might feel like to touch his curly hair, or that svelte body. Thoughts of sex preoccupied him in a way they hadn’t for years—constantly, and with longing. He wanted to have sex. He wanted to have sex with Ollie Snow.

And the thought that Ollie might be interested, that their attraction might be mutual, petrified him. He didn’t think he was half as ready for this as Amy believed. So he’d taken the coward’s way out and not followed up on their ‘date’, which left him gazing across the hall towards the door like an anxious puppy awaiting his master’s return. All longing and frustration. Pathetic.

Parents and kids had started to filter in, including Rory and the others from the after-school program. Still no sign of Ollie, which was testing but not unprecedented; he sometimes got stuck at work, and traffic would be slow-moving today because of the weather. Even Joel had chosen to drive to school instead of risking his bike in the fog.

He checked his phone, although there was no reason Ollie would message him personally to tell him he was running late. Not when he’d done such a good job of shutting him down. He regretted that, now, wished he’d at least encouraged a friendship. His last message to Ollie stared coldly back at him:You’re welcome.

“Mr. Morgan?” He looked up to find Rory standing in front of the table, gazing at him with solemn dark eyes. Ollie had said the kid looked like his sister, but never having known her Joel tried to pick out something of Ollie in the boy’s features: the straight nose, perhaps, and the wide mouth that looked like it ought to be smiling. But Rory’s face was grave.

“Hey,” Joel said. “You want some ice-cream, Rory?”

He shook his head. “Is Ollie here?”

Shit. Joel smiled, not wanting to give the kid any reason to worry. “You know I think—” Movement near the door caught his eye and he glanced over just as Ollie rushed in, looking tired and harried, Luis on one hip. Joel’s relief made him smile. “I think I see him right there.”

Rory turned, grinning as Ollie hurried over.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” That was directed somewhere between Joel and Rory, but Ollie crouched down, still holding Luis, and grabbed Rory in a one-armed hug. “Sorry, buddy, I got held up.” He buried his face briefly in Rory’s hair. “You okay?”

Rory nodded. “Can I have an ice-cream now?”

“Yeah, hang on. Give me a second.”

“But I want—”

“I saidwait.” He stood up, thin lipped, and set Luis on his feet. Joel was startled because he’d never heard Ollie snap at Rory before. Not that there was anything wrong with it—all parents snapped at their kids occasionally—he’d just never heard that tone from Ollie. Rory went silent and reached out to grab Luis’s hand, big eyes round.

“Sorry I wasn’t here to set up.” Ollie was talking to Joel now, pulling his wallet out of his jeans. “Let me get the kids settled and I’ll come back there and help.”

“Thanks, but there’s no rush. Most people haven’t gotten here yet.” It was difficult to see properly in the dim lighting, but something about Ollie felt…off. “Everything okay?”

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