Page 61 of Twice Shy

Joel gave a curt nod and left, trying to get his breathing under control.

In for four, hold for four, out for four, hold for four...

Eyes on his feet, he stalked to his classroom in silence. But as his panic receded, it revealed a darker emotion, like a dead thing left behind on the shore at low tide.

Shame.

He’d denied his relationship with Ollie, lied about it. Acted like a coward. What the hell would Ollie think?

But Ollie, for all that he was out, couldn’t understand the humiliation of being subject to this kind of gossip and speculation. It was excruciating—and it would be painful for Ollie, too, because it would involve Rory. Joel unlocked his classroom, soothing himself with that thought. By hiding the truth, he was protecting not only himself but Rory and Ollie. Thinking about Rory being teased or bullied because of their relationship was unbearable. He wouldn’t allow it.

His breathing slowed, muscles unclenching. Yes, he’d been right to nip the story in the bud. They needed to keep everything quiet for now. It was safer for them all that way.

For the rest of the day he tried to put the conversation with Jackie out of his mind, instead talking to the kids about their Thanksgiving and getting them settled enough to do some learning. As always, the busy school day grounded him. The demands of the children left no room for his mind to dwell on things it shouldn’t, it kept him from restlessly turning over the whats and whys of the situation. It was only later, when the school was quiet again and he sat in his empty classroom, that he allowed himself to wonder how the rumor had started.

Had Jackie guessed after surprising them together in the shed? Or had they given themselves away at dinner on Friday night? Maybe someone had seen them together at the weekend? He remembered that kiss by the lighthouse. Or could it be Alyssa? No, even if she suspected, Alyssa wouldn’t gossip. Would she?

And then he recalled seeing Ollie laughing with a couple of the other moms last week. Surely Ollie wouldn’t have said anything; he’d promised not to. But people made promises all the time that they later broke…

The question circled his mind for the rest of the day. Overnight, it turned dragon-dark and winged before morning brought the return of sunlight and reason. Of course Ollie hadn’t told anyone about them. Why would he? He understood Joel’s reason for wanting to keep things quiet. He shared it, for Rory’s and Luis’s sake if nothing else.

Joel looked for him Tuesday morning, as the kids came into school, but if Ollie was there Joel didn’t spot him. Ollie did text, though, a quick:Still on for tonight?

The lurch in Joel’s stomach at the sight of Ollie’s name on his screen was half excitement and half anxiety. Peopleknew, they’d guessed. Yet the prospect of not seeing Ollie felt worse than the risk of being seen at his place. Hell, why did he always feel somuch? Why couldn’t he just take things casual, like normal guys?

A question for Amy, perhaps. Next time.

Whatever the reason, adrenaline had him skittish as he got ready Tuesday evening. He chose jeans and a sweater, because winter was biting hard and it was a twenty-minute cycle to Ollie’s apartment. A clear night though, and the roads were dry and well gritted so there was no danger of ice. Even so, his cheeks felt stiff with cold by the time he reached Ollie’s apartment and locked his bike into the rack. From his pannier he pulled a bottle of wine and stuffed his cycle helmet inside instead.

He ran a hand through his hair and pressed the buzzer on Ollie’s door, fingers tingling, adrenaline flowing. Was he nervous about seeing Ollie again, or excited? It was difficult to tell. He was—

Excited.

He knew because when Ollie opened the door, looking comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt, Joel’s lips curved into a smile at least as broad as Ollie’s grin.

“Hey, come in.” Ollie stepped back and Joel glanced over his shoulder to check— To check what? That nobody was watching? He was being ridiculous. “You brought wine,” Ollie said, taking it from him. “Thank you.”

“Especially good with pizza.”

The hallway was lit only by the light from upstairs, lending it a dusky intimate feel when Ollie closed the front door. His dark eyes caught the light, though, gleaming as he smiled. “Everything tastes good with pizza.” Then he leaned in, hesitated, and Joel bridged the gap, brushing their lips together.

“Hi,” he said softly.

Ollie kissed him back. “Hi, yourself.”

All was quiet upstairs, so Joel risked cupping the back of Ollie’s head and turning the kiss into something more serious. God, but he’d missed him. Ollie joined in with enthusiasm, despite clutching the bottle of wine between them. The awkwardness made them both laugh. “Come on,” Ollie said. “Let’s go upstairs. The boys are asleep, but we should keep it down for a while. You hungry? It’s just store-bought pizza—hope that’s okay? Two for four bucks, though. Pretty good, huh?”

“Uh, yeah.” Truth was, Joel hadn’t had to look at prices in a long time, and that realization was somehow sobering. Surprising, the things you took for granted, that you didn’t even think about.

But whatever they’d cost, the pizzas smelled great and right then Joel would have been happy eating cardboard if it was with Ollie. He felt that sense of connection return, the feeling of being drawn to him, reeled in like a fish on a line. He’d felt it from day one. And each time they were together it grew stronger.

Ollie’s tiny living room was welcoming and cozy, and he’d set plates out on the coffee table instead of the dining table. Maybe he wanted to watch TV? The thought of curling up on Ollie’s sofa with him, eating pizza and watching TV together, was almost better than the promise of ‘Scrabble’ later. In fact, there was no almost about it. Not that he didn’t enjoy sex, but comfort and affection outside the bedroom had always been equally important to Joel. Did that make him weird?

“You like salad?” Ollie said, appearing with a couple of bowls. “It’s just leaves really, but—”

“Salad is good. Thanks.” He watched, stupidly touched as Ollie set the bowls down. When was the last time anyone—excluding his mom—had made him a meal? Four years, give or take. His throat tightened unexpectedly, and when Ollie straightened Joel caught him around the waist with one arm and kissed him lightly. It took a moment to find his voice, but when he did, he said, “This is great. Thank you.”

“Hey, you fed me for a whole weekend, it’s the least I can do.” Ollie smiled, but it was quizzical, like he was trying to read something in Joel’s eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

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