Twice Shy

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Twice Shy Page 13

by Sally Malcolm

Joel was increasingly aware that this was the first time he and Ollie had really been alone. Even at his apartment, the kids had been steps away. But now it was just the two of them, Ollie lifting the tables into the shed, Joel sliding them along into a neat stack against the wall.

  “That’s the last one,” Ollie said, breaking the charged silence as he stepped into the shed with the final table and helped Joel slide it into place. He dusted off his hands, pushing one through his tangled hair.

  In the dim light, Joel saw the brief flash of his smile and a gleam of distant light in his eyes. He felt breathless, more than the minor exertion of stacking the tables warranted. “We just made it before we lost the light.”

  “Yeah.” Ollie stood between him and the door, fidgeting on one leg. He pushed his hand through his hair again, and Joel flexed his fingers in memory of threading them through those silky curls. “Um, listen,” Ollie said, “I wanted to say thanks, again, for the loan of the car. It’s been a real lifesaver.”

  “No problem.” That came out too gruff and Joel cleared his throat before he added, “You’ve found it okay to drive and charge and everything?”

  “Yeah, easy. I, uh—” He tugged nervously at the cuffs of his coat. “I can’t keep it forever.”

  “You can keep it as long as you need.”

  “But that could be— Saving up for another car could take…” The words faded into a sigh as if there was no way to quantify how long it might take him to save up a few hundred bucks. Forever, perhaps.

  Keep it, Joel wanted to say. Have it. I don’t need it. I’ll buy a new one.

  He couldn’t say that, it would be ridiculous. But he had to say something. “We’ll share it. How about that? You need it for work, I don’t. If I need it at the weekend for a run into Commack, I’ll swing by and pick it up. Otherwise it’s just sitting on my driveway gathering dust.”

  In the dark, Ollie’s eyes glistened. The silence deepened. At length, and in an unsteady voice, he said, “You’re just a very kind man, aren’t you?”

  Try smitten. “Don’t give me too much credit. It’s no hardship to me, Ollie. Really.”

  “But it’s everything to me. You can’t understand how much—” He cleared his throat and looked away, out the window. After a pause he said, “Maybe it hasn’t cost you much, but you’ve saved me.”

  Joel watched the emotion playing over his face in concern. “I hope you don’t feel like you owe me anything, because you don’t. Nothing.”

  “But I won’t forget this, Joel.” He turned back, those dark eyes luminous in the gloom. “I won’t ever forget this. And I hope, one day, I’ll be able to do the same for someone else. Because when you’re struggling, and someone is kind and generous, it feels like a fucking miracle and I—” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes. “Shit, sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this.”

  And I promised myself I wouldn’t do this.

  Joel set his hand on Ollie’s shoulder, pulse racing at the feel of muscle and sinew. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s just really hard sometimes.”

  “I know. Parenting is hard. But you’re doing a great job.”

  A shake of his head. “You know that’s not true.”

  “The hell I do.” Ollie glanced up at his vehemence and Joel saw a glint of moisture on his cheeks, in the shimmer of his eyes. “Those boys are happy, Ollie. Who cares about details like…like spare clothes and perfectly balanced meals? Or losing your temper once in a while. You love them and they know it. You’re a great dad.”

  Ollie sucked in a sharp breath and pressed his hand over his mouth. Joel felt the jolt of emotion run through his fingers, up his arm. “Sorry,” Ollie said again, the word muffled by his hand. “Nobody’s ever said that…”

  And Joel couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t keep from sliding his arm around Ollie’s shoulders and pulling him into a rough hug. If a guy had ever needed a hug, it was Ollie Snow in that moment. “Of course you’re a great dad. You’re fantastic.”

  Ollie held still, arms at his side, but Joel felt him shiver and after a moment his forehead dropped to rest on Joel’s shoulder. They were almost the same height, and when Joel wrapped his other arm around Ollie’s stiff body it landed just above the small of his back. His hair smelled like smoke with an undercurrent of fruity shampoo, his skin of nothing but himself.

  And now it was Joel who was shivering. It started out low, a subtle tremor inside his bones. His breath quivered, catching in his throat, and when Ollie’s arms moved, his hands coming to rest on Joel’s hips, Joel stopped breathing entirely. But he let his hand move, a slow stroke up Ollie’s back. He could feel his spine through his coat, the blades of his shoulders. Angular and masculine, nothing like Helen’s generous curves. His heart lurched, a flash of banked desire breaking free and scorching across his skin.

  Neither of them did anything but stand there together in the deepening dark.

  Then Ollie swallowed loudly and pulled back, not letting go of Joel’s hips but moving far enough away that Joel could see his face. Wide eyes watched him, lips a little parted as if on the cusp of a question. But Joel knew he wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t do anything. He was waiting for Joel to decide.

  Blood rushed in his ears, deafening. This was what he’d spent four years avoiding. It would turn him upside down, it risked everything he’d rebuilt. But those were distant concerns, drowned out by his clamorous need to connect—physically and emotionally. He longed for it, was thirsting for human contact. How had he not known he was parched until this moment?

  Ollie swayed toward him and Joel closed his eyes, letting their noses bump, gently brushing together. And at last, the air catching and holding in Joel’s lungs, their lips touched in tentative welcome, shared breath, shared uncertainty. Ollie lifted a hand to the back of Joel’s neck, light and undemanding, and Joel did the same, sagging in relief when his fingers tangled in Ollie’s hair, their heads tilting and bodies pressing closer as the kiss deepened, accelerated.

  And ignited like a rocket.

  Ollie came alive in his arms, kissing him with hungry enthusiasm, all ragged breaths and eager roaming hands. Staggering under the sudden onslaught of push and pull, Joel stumbled back into the stacked tables and set them rocking as he dragged his lips over Ollie’s lightly stubbled jaw, tasting his skin, hands exploring the hard lines of his body.

  God, he remembered this—the powerful eroticism of touching another man. Someone was setting off fireworks inside his head. Setting him ablaze. Christ, how had he forgotten how intensely a man could fire him up? He felt crazed. One hand clenched in Ollie’s hair, the other clutching at the lapel of his coat, belt buckles clunking in the silence of the shed as they rocked together.

  He wanted this. He wanted more than this. He wanted everything.

  With a low growl Ollie snaked a hand under the Joel’s sweater, the electric thrill of his hot fingers scorching up Joel’s bare back driving him crazy. He gasped and—

  “Yoo-hoo! Mr. Morgan? Are you in there?”

  They sprung apart, staring at each other across the width of the shed as the bright beam of a flashlight cut through the dark between them.

  “Ah, there you— Is everything alright in here?”

  “Uh, yes.” Joel shielded his eyes from the light and Jackie lowered it. What the hell must he look like? He could only imagine. “We were just, um—”

  “Having trouble with the tables.” Ollie sounded breathless and husky. “It’s quite cluttered—”

  “Well, yes. I’m aware. Of course, nobody ever wants to help me clear it out.” A dramatic sigh and an awkward beat followed. “Is there room for the grill?” Jackie went on eventually. “My other half is wheeling it over. We wondered where you’d gone.”

  “There should be room,” Joel said, grateful to turn away from Jackie’s interrogation and examine the space left in the shed. He ran a hand through his mussed-up hair, tried to straighten his sweater.

  “I’ll go help Bill,”
Ollie said, slipping past Joel and disappearing outside.

  Joel’s pulse didn’t slow, and he stared blankly at the dark outlines of the tables. What had he done? More importantly, what the hell was he going to do next?

  ∞∞∞

  Ollie stared at himself in the mirror over the sink in the staff bathroom. His cheeks were a little flushed, his hair its usual tangled chaos. He didn’t think he looked like a guy who’d just ravaged a teacher in the PTA shed.

  Or a guy who’d been ravaged by a teacher in the PTA shed.

  And he was most definitely both. There’d been some serious heat going on between them, and if Jackie hadn’t shown up when she had, God knew how far they might have gone. He touched his lips. Were they swollen? He peered closer. They felt swollen. His skin felt flushed all over, his body humming with arousal—even if Jackie’s surprise appearance had successfully killed his hard-on in record time. He knew it wouldn’t take much to get him worked up again, possibly only a look from Joel’s intense gray eyes.

  But judging by the expression of stark terror on the guy’s face when Jackie had interrupted, Ollie wasn’t sure they’d be having a repeat performance. And that left him feeling more depressed than he had any right to feel.

  Pushing his confusion aside, he washed and dried his hands and stepped out into the quiet school corridor. It was five o’clock; he was picking up the kids from Sofia at six, which left him a precious hour of free time. From the hall he heard voices, the last of the parents clearing up. He’d left his stuff in there anyway, so it wasn’t like he could just go home. Even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He couldn’t until he’d spoken to Joel.

  Almost everything had been cleared away. Jackie was disconnecting her phone from the speakers, and Mrs. Allen, the principal, was talking to Joel while she locked the fire escape doors. Joel looked...gorgeous. Let’s not mince words. Ollie had been drooling over the sight of him in jeans all day. They weren’t super fashionable, but soft and well fitting, and paired with that heavy navy sweater that brought out the blue in his gray eyes, Ollie had hardly been able to keep his eyes off him while they worked.

  Or his hands off him, as it turned out.

  And he had no regrets about that. God, but Joel had felt good in his arms. The moment when he’d relaxed, given in to the inevitable, would live long in Ollie’s memory—at once surrender and domination as they’d tussled for control of the kiss, Joel’s fingers tugging at his hair, teeth nipping at his bottom lip, one arm like iron around his back as they strove to get closer. Even the memory was powerful enough to stir him.

  And then Joel looked his way, gaze arrowing in across the hall, and their eyes met.

  For a horrible moment, Ollie feared Joel would look away, dismiss him. But instead he said something to Mrs. Allen and headed his way, striding toward him across the hall. Ollie’s insides trembled as a broad grin escaped his control. Joel smiled too, with more restraint, and stopped a careful distance away. “Okay?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  No answer, but a dozen questions darted through his eyes. “I, er, was wondering whether you could give me a ride home.” Color rose into his cheeks and his gaze skittered away uncertainly.

  Ollie wanted to reach out and take his hand, but the fact that Joel wanted to keep this—whatever this was—on the downlow was very clear. He shoved his twitchy hands into his pockets. “Of course. It’s your car.”

  “Shared,” Joel said, and although his lips didn’t smile his eyes glittered warmly.

  And that low hum of desire flared back into heat. Ollie swallowed. “Ready to go now?”

  Joel’s eyes didn’t leave his. “Sure.”

  They were out of the parking lot and halfway down the street before either of them spoke. Joel was driving—Ollie had insisted, feeling weird driving him about in his own car. And Joel, hands white-knuckling the correct ten and two position on the steering wheel, eyes on the road, said, “There are some things you should know before we… Before things go any further.” A quick sideways glance. “Assuming you want them to go further? You might not.”

  Ollie was glad he had time to study him, to observe the tense jaw and straight line of his mouth. Otherwise he might have thought Joel’s abrupt tone was unfriendly instead of nervous. “I like you,” he said carefully. “But my life’s pretty hectic right now, with the boys and…everything. I haven’t thought about anything like this in a long time. That’s not to say I’m not interested, just that I have a lot on my plate.”

  Joel gave a jerky nod. “I understand. If you’d rather we just forget—”

  “No. That’s not what I mean.” He reached out and lightly touched Joel’s arm. “I’ve felt there was something between us for a while now. I wasn’t sure you felt the same.”

  “I did. I do.” Joel cleared his throat. “But— Okay, first off, you should know that Helen wasn’t a…a beard or anything. I’m bisexual, not gay.”

  “Sure, okay.”

  “If that’s a problem for you—”

  “It’s not.”

  “Because some gay guys think, if you’re bi, it means you’re just experimenting or something.”

  “And they’re assholes.” Ollie squeezed his arm. “It’s not a problem for me, Joel. It’s not like I didn’t already know you’d been married—I’d assumed you were at least bi, maybe pan.”

  Joel flicked him a sideways glance. “At least bi?”

  “Shit.” He winced. “Sorry, I mean… I’m trying to say I’m cool with you being bi.”

  With a curt nod, Joel turned his eyes back to the road. “Also, I’m not out at school. Or anywhere in New Milton, for that matter.”

  Ollie had figured that too. “Are you out to anyone? To your family?”

  “My parents, yes. It’s not that I’m closeted, it’s just that I’ve never needed to come out here.” A pause. “Because I haven’t dated since Helen.”

  That was a surprise. “You mean guys, or…?”

  “Anybody.”

  “Wow, that’s… Why not?”

  Joel released his death grip on the steering wheel enough to rub anxiously at the back of his neck. “It’s difficult. People can be so weird about bisexuality, and I just—” He took a deep breath, shoulders straightening. “Truth is, I made a mistake with Helen. I didn’t come out to her for a long time. Years. I guess I knew she’d hate it. But it was always there, this secret niggling at me. It felt like…like a barrier between us. And, I don’t know, eventually I just wanted her to…to…”

  “To see you?” Ollie said quietly, aching at the distress he saw in Joel’s tense profile.

  He nodded. “I was hiding part of myself and I hated it. So, one day I just… I just told her. Blurted it out. We’d been married for five years by then. I thought, after so long, it would be okay.” He blew out a breath. “It wasn’t. She just couldn’t get past it. In the end, it’s why she found someone else. She said the idea of me…being with another guy made her want to puke. And that was pretty devastating.”

  Ollie squeezed his arm. “Jesus, Joel.”

  “After that I guess I just didn’t want to risk it again.”

  “Yeah, no surprise there.”

  Joel’s tight smile suggested he didn’t think Ollie could possibly understand, but his tone was lighter when he said, “So, anyway, the last guy I dated was in my sophomore year at college. I’m kind of…out of practice.”

  “Out of practice?” Ollie laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s like riding a bike. Only more fun.”

  A broader smile tugged at Joel’s lips, cheeks flushing charmingly. “At dating, I mean. I was with Helen for eight years in total.”

  Eight years and she left him because he’d fucked a couple guys before they were together? Christ. Ollie scratched a hand through his hair. “I understand you haven’t had any reason to come out here,” he said, returning to what he considered the key point. He hesitated before asking, “Do you want to keep it that way?”

  “I— Yes.” Another quick�
��apologetic? —glance. “I think I have to, with school. People are so…uncomfortable with bisexuality. It’s like they think you want to screw anything that’s not nailed down. And when it comes to their kids, parents can be...”

  Ollie grunted. “Tell me about it.”

  “Right. Of course you know.” Joel sighed, shoulders slumping. “This must sound lame to you. You’re so open about everything.”

  Ollie thought it over. He was open, but that was his choice. He’d decided early on to make his sexuality as obvious as possible so that he didn’t constantly need to come out to people. His decision had its pros and cons but, overall, he’d found the advantages outweighed the disadvantages: what you saw was what you got, and he liked it that way. But he could see that it was different for Joel. “Look it’s your decision. I’m not going to judge you. And I do get why you wouldn’t want to be out as a teacher.”

  “It’s the emotional upset I’m afraid of. I like to— I need to keep my life on an even keel these days.”

  Ollie nudged his arm, remembering their passionate few minutes in the PTA shed. “Not always.”

  Joel’s laugh sounded alarmed. “Well. You’ve certainly shaken things up.”

  As he spoke, they turned onto a quiet road in an expensive, established neighborhood and Joel pulled into the driveway of a substantial house, it’s white exterior gleaming in the dusky light. It was the sort of family home you saw on TV and Ollie wondered whether Joel had bought it with his wife before they split. He didn’t ask though, and when Joel turned off the engine they sat in silence in the driveway.

  “If I haven’t put you off,” Joel said after a moment, “I’d like to…to see you again.”

  “At the Christmas Market you mean, selling cupcakes?”

  Joel made a soft sound, a huff of humor in the quiet car. “I’d like to see you not at a PTA event.” He glanced over, a tentative expression on his face. “If you’d like that?”

  There were a dozen reasons not to get involved with a semi-closeted teacher, not least of which was Ollie’s need to focus on the boys and his stalled attempt to connect with Luca Moretti. But right then all he could think about was how much he liked Joel, with his cautious interest and awkward reserve, his generosity and kindness. “I would like that,” he said, and turned in his seat to touch Joel’s thigh. He smiled at the feel of firm muscle— must be all that cycling—and squeezed lightly, thrilled by the way Joel shifted toward him. That kind of heady power made a guy reckless. “If we had more time, I’d come in and show you exactly how much I like the idea.”

 

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