Page 73 of Animal Instincts
“I’m implying nothing, merely making an observation. He’s young, that’s all I’m saying.”
“You can shove your observations. Mine and Joss’ relationship is no concern of yours. And let me assure you, it’s way better than anything we ever had.”
Spencer raised a lazy brow and a lazier smile, and Oliver wanted to wipe both from his face. He squeezed his fists into iron hard balls, the muscles in his hands and arms cramping.
“You need to think about what I’ve just said, about dreams and ambitions, and putting the brakes on them, whether meaning to or not. If you don’t, history won’t just repeat itself, it’ll sink its teeth into your arse.
“What have you got here? A small practice, in a small village. I went for a walk before I came in. There’s not a lot to the place, is there? It’s pretty enough, but I can’t see it offering much in the way of opportunity to anybody who’s got drive and get up and go. And Joss is young. Don’t you think he’s going to want to break loose, because this must be a rather staid, and let’s be honest, dull place, for a young gay guy in his early twenties? Come on, Oliver, you must remember what being that age was like? Don’t you think he’s going to want to try out city life at some point, and see more of the world than green fields, sheep, and cream teas?”
Spencer laughed, a knife dragging down the length of Oliver’s spine.
“He’s undergoing his animal care training.”Or he will be soon.Spencer could make all the insinuations he liked, but he didn’t know Joss and what he wanted. “It’s the opportunity he was looking for.” The waiting area was warm, but an icy chill skittered across his skin.
“And I’m sure it’s one he’s very grateful for. Your support and encouragement will be invaluable, and once he’s qualified… Well, he’ll have his pick of jobs. As you know, there are more openings than qualified people. He could apply to work for me and Donald in London, or Bath if the deal goes through. Or maybe not. That might be a little too awkward. I wish you well, Oliver, I really do, because I think you’re going to need all the well wishes you can get.”
A moment later the door slammed shut. Oliver couldn’t move, he could barely breathe. Spencer may have gone but his words, like his musky cologne, lingered in the warm air and filled all the space in the little, rural vets practice.
THIRTY-EIGHT
“Fucking hell.”
Oliver fumbled catching the toast from sliding off the plate and dropping, butter side down, on the floor. He snatched it up and threw it in the bin; he wasn’t hungry, so why bother with breakfast? He sagged down at the table, and poured another coffee from the cafetière. It was barely warm, but it didn’t matter; it was high octane caffeine, and that’s what did.
He’d had a fitful night’s sleep at best, and had given up the fight at not much after 4.00am. He rubbed his gritty, sore eyes; was on his own today, and god alone knew how he was going to make it through the day.
Oliver turned his coffee cup in his hands. He hadn’t risen to Spencer’s not so vague offer for them to becomefriends.Out of sight of Donald, of course. Spencer wouldn’t have liked the rejection. Oliver turned his cup again. No, Spencer wouldn’t have liked that at all. Which meant that what he’d said had been nothing more than spiteful, final shots.
Yet, hadn’t he already heard some of what Spencer had said, not about him but about Joss?
Oliver’s grip on his cup tightened as he stared out at the garden, where the watery light of a new day was starting to make itself known.
The evening in the pub and Gary, Joss’ old school friend, too ready to sneer at other people’s choices. It was easy to dismiss Gary as young, cocky, and arrogant, because he was of the age to think he knew all the answers to life. Oliver’s lips lifted in a tight and humourless smile; the guy would soon get that knocked out of him. But hadn’t Gary’s words dovetailed with Spencer’s, as Spencer’s dovetailed with his?
Oliver’s dark smile fell away.
Gary and Spencer; Spencer and Gary. Two different men, but what they’d said had been essentially the same: Joss was stifled in the village, his ambitions thwarted. Not so much his professional ambitions, Oliver was confident he could fulfil most of those, but his personal ambitions.
Plotting and planning to escape… All the things Joss was going to do… All the dazzling, exciting temptations of city life… What it was like to be Joss’ age, barely in his early twenties, with the world and all it offered waiting for him…
You must remember what being that age was like…. Yes, he remembered, because hadn’t he, too, plotted and planned for that same exciting life when he hadn’t been much younger than Joss?
From dreary commuter town to the intensity of student life in London. Sharing a crummy flat with his friends. The pubs, the clubs, the bars — and the men that went with them. Frightening, yes, especially for somebody as naturally reserved as Oliver knew himself to be, but also intoxicating, life affirming and freeing.
Dreams and ambition. It had been a tortuous path, filled with danger, but hadn’t his own dreams and ambitions now been fulfilled to a large extent? The self-conscious admission of what he’d always secretly wanted, told to Joss under a wide blue sky, and when he’d gazed with affection at an old and battered book. A straight forward rural practice, a more measured pace of life, the stresses and strains of the city left behind him where he’d lived a life in a constant state of high alert.
The life Oliver sought was everything Joss hadn’t wanted, everything he’d plotted and planned to escape from. Or had been before it had all been stopped dead in its tracks.
Stopped byhim,standing in the way of Joss’ escape route from the village that had been his home for the whole of his life.
All my ambition and drive and dreams of a better future thwarted and suffocated… You were selfish, Oliver, and if you’re honest with yourself you’ll admit it.
Spencer’s accusation crawled in his gut, infected his bloodstream.
Oliver only considered his own wants and needs… He’d dismissed Spencer’s ambitions for both himself and the practice… Spencer would never be more thanjustan animal care assistant…
How could he have been that selfish man Spencer accused him of being?
Hadn’t he given Spencer everything he’d wanted?
