Page 71 of Twice Shy

Pleasure and alarm set Ollie’s pulse racing. He didn’t think there was a strong family resemblance, but had Joel guessed? It would be a relief to be able to talk about it, and if Joel had guessed the truth, it wouldn’t be the same as Ollie revealing the secret himself. Cautiously, he said, “Similar how?”

Joel didn’t look at him, still staring at the milling crowd. “Gay and out,” he said shortly, gaze fixed on Finn and Josh taking a selfie with a couple of young fans. “All of you. Poster boys for gay pride.”

“Poster boys…?” Ollie rocked back in disbelief, his hopes of a moment ago draining away. “You mean actually—gasp—hanging out with our boyfriends in public without jumping a mile if anyone looks at us twice?”

Joel fell silent, lips pressed tight.

And suddenly Ollie was done. “I’m too tired for this,” he said, with a glance at Rory, still playing with the model airplane he’d gotten from Santa. “I’m going home.”

“Ollie…”

He ignored him. “Rory, let’s go.”

“But I don’t wanna go…”

“You want to watch theMuppet Christmas Carolwhen we get home?”

As always, bribery got results. But Ollie had only taken a couple of steps before Joel called after him. “Ollie, wait.”

He stopped, closed his gritty eyes, listening but not turning around.

“I’m sorry,” Joel said, his voice low but urgent. Sincere. “I shouldn’t have said— I’m acting like an a-hole.”

Yes, he was. “I’m tired, Joel. I just want to sleep.”

“Okay.” A pause. “Yeah, okay, get some sleep. I’ll… I’ll message you later?”

He didn’t turn around, despite the catch in Joel’s voice. “Whatever you like.” Stupidly, he felt his eyes get hot and prickly. Had to be because he was so tired, that was all.

He drove home on autopilot, half-listening to Rory’s babble from the backseat, and guiltily sat the kids in front of the TV while he shoved dinner in the oven: fish sticks and fries. And that was another compromise, wasn’t it? Another crappy meal. But if he got them both fed and asleep by seven o’clock, he’d call it a victory. It was all he could manage tonight, and what the hell did that say about him as a parent?

But there was a beer in the fridge, left over from Joel’s last visit, and the promise of that and an early night got him through the bath and bedtime routine. By the time he’d finished the next chapter of Rory’s book—eyelids drooping—he could have cried with relief.

In a ringing silence he stood in the living room gazing around at the kids’ dinner plates on the floor in front of the TV, his unmade sofa-bed, and the heap of laundry he hadn’t done this morning left crumpled in a corner. Chaos. Christ, he should be more on top of things; the boys shouldn’t have to live like this. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t decide between sleeping or eating or picking up the mess. Couldn’t do anything.

And then his phone pinged with an incoming message.

Joel: Hey

Ollie stared at it, watched the dancing dots indicating that Joel was writing more.

I’m sorry about today. You were tired and I should have been a better friend. Hope you have a quiet evening and a good night’s sleep. xx

Ollie perched on one of the dining chairs and studied the screen through his weary eyes. He’d been irritated earlier, disappointed by Joel’s behavior. No denying that. But now, sitting in his quiet apartment, he simply felt lonely. He typed out:It’s okay. I understand why you want to keep things low-key between us. I wasn’t in a great mood today, tbh. Can see why they use sleep deprivation as a torture…

He hadn’t even set his phone down before Joel replied:Say no if you want to, but could I come over? Won’t keep you up late.

Ollie hesitated. He really was shattered, but the thought of making up with Joel after their fractious afternoon felt much better than the prospect of sinking that cold beer alone. Hesitating over his reply, he finally settled on:Okay. But I won’t be up for much more than a cuddle :)

When Joel didn’t immediately reply, Ollie pushed to his feet and was halfway into the kitchen when he heard a knock at the door. He didn’t get evening callers, so his stomach fluttered hopefully as he trudged downstairs to the hallway and peeked through the peephole. Smiling, he opened the door. “That was quick.”

Joel stood on the doorstep wearing a rueful smile and holding a takeout bag. “I wasn’t being presumptuous,” he said. “Just hopeful.”

Stepping back, Ollie invited him in. As he did so, the hallway filled with the aroma of warm spices—Thai food?—and the crisp woodsmoke scent of a fall evening that clung to Joel’s coat. The combination hit Ollie like a wall. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been all day until something inside him simply unclenched and twenty-four hours of strain flowed out of him. A weary smile curved his lips. “That smells amazing.”

“You like Thai?”

He nodded, leaning into Joel, his forehead dropping to rest on his shoulder. “But I was talking about you.”

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