Home Again (Finding You Book 1)

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Home Again (Finding You Book 1) Page 4

by Ana Ashley


  I’d felt an instant attraction to David, my body betraying me as it never had before, and all I could do was smile to avoid giving away how I was truly feeling. I couldn’t begin to work through the emotions swirling through my mind. And let's face it. I wasn’t even sure if David was gay, not to mention that I couldn’t even go there if he were. First and foremost, I could only hope we would be friends again.

  All evening my eyes kept finding their way toward David. I’d had to work very hard to look at other people, too, but damn, it was so hard. I almost wished I’d seen David before this evening to acclimate myself to the presence of his dark brown eyes, which looked so warm and sincere, even if I could detect a little bit of sadness hidden beneath those long eyelashes.

  I’d have to make sure we could spend some time together.

  I needed to get to know David again.

  Wondering if the years of separation had done irreparable damage to our friendship, I hoped that whatever bridges I had burned by being away would be able to be rebuilt over the next few weeks.

  I’d lost my grandmother a few years ago, and now I’d lost both of my parents on the same day. I needed more people I cared about in my life, and there was no doubt that I still cared about David.

  Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even hear David’s approach until he touched my arm.

  “Earth to Joel,” David said, smiling and leaning in a tad more than my fast-beating heart could handle, his fingers leaving my skin tingling.

  “Sorry, I was... um... just in a different world. Are you ready to go?”

  “You looked like you were in another world. And yes, I’m all set,” he said, and we started walking toward our street.

  “So,” David asked, “what had your head in the clouds?”

  “Oh, um... nothing. Just thinking what a dork you must think I am. We haven’t seen each other for years, and then I threw myself at you.” I looked down, hoping that my sudden shyness wasn’t too visible. And then with a shaky voice that was almost a whisper, I continued. “I um...I was also hoping that we could be friends again.”

  “You’re not a dork, and I’m sure we can sort something out about the friendship. I mean, I have conditions—”

  “Conditions?”

  “Well, for starters, you’ll have to return my Superman doll and—”

  “Wait!” I interrupted. “Superman was mine!” I said, a tad more emphatically than I intended.

  “I’m afraid you are wrong, my potential future friend. Let me enlighten you. Superman was a present from you on my fifth birthday. Therefore, he belongs to me.” David said playfully, and instantly, old memories began to play in my head like a film.

  “Oh my God, I remember. Laura from school slapped me because I didn’t want to kiss her. I came over to your place, and you let me borrow Superman to make me feel better.”

  I felt a little embarrassed at my admission. Okay, a lot embarrassed. “I’m sure there is some statute of limitations on surrendering property that old?” It was apparent I've seen too many crime and law shows, and I wasn’t quite ready to admit I had no idea where the doll was. I hadn’t seen it in years.

  “I’ll consult my solicitor and will get back to you in due course,” David said with a wink. “Anyway, tell me about your life. What are you doing these days?”

  “Oh...I, well I still live in New York and own my apartment thanks to my grandmother. It’s not big, but it’s centrally located and a short walk to my school and the hospital. I graduated with a degree in Early Childhood Studies because I wanted to teach. I love working with younger children, so I teach elementary school classes and also a few other extracurricular ones.”

  “What sort of extracurricular? Like art and stuff?”

  “Oh God, no, I... um teach Portuguese to some of the older students. It’s not part of the formal curriculum yet, but there was a group of students last year who were interested in learning, so I started a club that ran after school a couple of times a week. I’m hoping it will become part of the curriculum this year. I love teaching Portuguese. It allows me to continue to practice, especially now that I don’t get to speak it as often.” And I missed speaking my mother tongue regularly.

  “I’m so sorry, Joel?” he said, and I knew he meant more than just not speaking my language.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Well, Max speaks it too, but I don’t see him all the time because of his shifts at the hospital.”

  “Max?” I thought I heard a hint of something other than curiosity in his voice.

  “Max is my best friend. We have known each other since high school. He used to spend a lot of time at my place, and my mom had this rule of only speaking Portuguese at home, so Max had to learn.”

  “Wow, that must have been difficult for him.”

  “I admire him for doing it. It wasn’t easy with all the school work we had to do, and my mom didn’t give him any more leeway than she gave me. She and Max were very close. He’s a nurse as well, and they used to work together in the same hospital. After we’d gone to college, we didn’t need to keep it up, but Max was adamant he didn’t want to lose a skill he’d worked so hard on.”

  I was surprised at the ease with which we were chatting. It was as though no time had passed between us, and it felt natural to walk alongside David and talk about all these things.

  “And how about your dad’s side of the family? Do you have anyone you’re close to?” David asked.

  “Not really. There are a few cousins scattered here and there, but we’re not close. My grandmother died a few years ago. We were close, and I used to spend a lot of time with her. I tried to teach her Portuguese, but she never got the hang of it. Sadly, she was never well enough to make the flight, visit, and use the few words that stuck.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that. I bet your grandmother would have loved it here in Portugal. Your family is the best,” David said, his voice slightly wistful.

  “Hey, you okay?” I wondered why David’s mood saddened a bit. David had been like a surrogate grandchild to my grandparents. From the time we were young, he used to spend as much time at their house as I did, not only because we were inseparable but also because David was considered family.

  I was curious about David's relationship with his aunt and uncle. Teresa was happy and quite chatty during dinner. It was apparent she’d had a great relationship with her late sister and was also proud of David. Mário had been harder to read. He’d been pleasant enough, but I had a feeling about him that wasn't quite right. I could almost swear it had been directed at me.

  “How about you? I don't remember the café hosting dinners before. Is that a new thing?”

  “We've been doing it for about three years. When mom died, my aunt and uncle were doing a lot of the work, and I was still at school. Mom, and to an extent your grandmother, taught me a lot about baking, so by the time mom passed away, I was already helping out in the kitchen.

  “University was an expense I couldn’t afford, so I took a few online classes and learned a lot by trial and error. It's really easy to know when you're doing a good job with baking because people will either like it or not.” David laughed. “After high school, I started working full time and was developing my own recipes. Our custard tarts are quite popular, and with the university campus nearby, we have a good passing trade as well as a lot of established regulars.”

  “So, why the dinners? This is quite a late finish for someone who has to be up before sunrise.” I looked at my watch. It was close to midnight now.

  “It started when one of the students from the university had family visiting for his graduation. He couldn't afford to take them all out, so he asked if we would hire out the café after hours to serve a more modest dinner and do a payment plan for him. He hoped he could pay some of the balance and work off the rest.”

  “Smart guy,” I said. ”Did you go for it?”

  “Kinda. I did it for him at cost. He was a regular and came in often for a coffee, but usually, he didn’
t eat. I suspected he just couldn’t afford more and the coffee was his treat.”

  “I bet he was pleased with your offer,” I said, feeling proud of David’s generosity.

  “Hell, yeah. His family were the nicest people you could meet. They had a great time while they were together, which I suspect didn’t happen often, and they loved the food. After that night, he recommended us to other people, and slowly we started having a few inquiries.”

  David wasn’t only generous, he was also a businessman.

  “How often do you host these events?”

  “It depends on the season. During Academic week, we have a few more events from students who already know us. It’s profitable for us but still a much cheaper option for them,” David said.

  I could imagine the town coming to life with all the students wearing their black capes.

  “We have also done a few very small weddings and birthday parties. I enjoy those as I get to make the cakes too.”

  “With all this business, where do you fit in some time for fun?”

  David laughed, looking briefly at me while we carried on walking toward the apartments. We weren’t that far now.

  “To be honest, there isn’t much time, but it varies throughout the year. I always make time to exercise either at home or by going for a run toward the beach. I find it clears my head and energizes me to spend the day in the kitchen.”

  I didn’t know why, but it made me happy that David was also a runner. I’ve always enjoyed running for the same reasons as David, but I ran in Central Park rather than on the beach.

  “What else do you do?” I asked.

  “My friend Isaac runs a youth center, so I volunteer there. I do a few cooking skills classes and spend time with some of the kids.”

  “That’s awesome, David. It’s really great of you to give up your time to help the kids.”

  “There is also...” David stopped talking, and my instinctive reaction was to stop, too, and turn toward him. He looked at me almost as if he was afraid to voice what was coming next.

  “I do a video blog as well,” he said almost too quietly.

  “Wow, a video blog? That sounds super interesting. What is it about?”

  “Food.” He rolled his eyes at me but looked instantly more relaxed. I suspected my reaction had something to do with it. I was genuinely interested to know more.

  “Well, duh, that would be quite obvious from the way you talk about your job at the café and how much you enjoy cooking. Can I see them?”

  “You ...you really want to?” he said, with caution but also...hope?

  “Of course! For starters, I bet you look hot on camera, and well, you’re blogging about food, so yeah, I want to see them.” I didn’t realize what I’d said until it was already out, and then it was my turn to turn beet red.

  David coughed out a laugh.

  “Okay, I’ll send you the link. Maybe we should exchange contact details if you’re going to be here for a little while.”

  “Does that mean I’ve met the friend criteria, then?” I said with an over-the-top grin.

  “The jury is still out, but we’re good for now.” His smile reached his eyes and made them light up like the Fourth of July.

  We were at the corner of the street where we lived, and I knew we would have to go our separate ways. We exchanged phones and added our numbers to the contacts before handing them back and walking to our separate buildings.

  I’d had a fabulous evening with my family, and having had a chance to chat with David was the icing on the cake. Despite all the emotions, I felt surprisingly lighthearted as I walked up the stairs.

  I decided to read a bit before going to bed since I was still on a high from the evening. I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed, but before I went to the master bedroom, I stopped by my old room and decided to open the balcony door. I looked across the road, and the balcony door right in front of mine was also open, but the lights were out.

  I had a feeling that my friendship with David would be just fine.

  Chapter Five

  David

  I was exhausted. After being up and working for eighteen hours straight, my feet were aching, my back was sore, and I needed some rest before starting all over again in the morning. My mind, however, was firing on all cylinders. I felt a mix of relief and excitement as I thought about the evening and my walk home with Joel.

  For years I wondered if I would ever see him again. When my mom died, I’d felt alone and abandoned by my best friend. Joel’s mom, Sílvia, saved me with her love, kindness, and dedication to my mom and ultimately, to me. I would be forever grateful to her, but it was Joel I’d wanted to see back then.

  Year after year I’d waited for the summer holidays, hoping I’d see Joel again, but he never came back, so I became angrier and angrier until I realized that there was no point to my anger. We had been two teenage boys who eventually grew up, and maybe our closeness as kids would have fizzled out anyway.

  I chose to hold that belief until I did grow up and my new interests and responsibilities became my world. I also found a new friendship with Isaac and, to an extent, with his brother Alex. I hadn’t felt the same way about Isaac as I had felt about Joel, I knew that. I guess I must have buried my feelings at some point and just carried on until today, until Joel walked into my café and with one single look from his blue eyes took my breath away and brought back everything I had tried to forget.

  Our conversation had flowed so naturally, and I couldn't remember ever sharing so much of my life with someone who wasn't a regular presence in it. Isaac was the only person who knew everything about me, and it had taken almost two years of friendship for me to open up.

  I’d lived alone since I was eighteen, making the small two-bedroom apartment I’d shared with my mom my own. There were memories of her everywhere, but I managed to add a few of my touches, including making my old bedroom into a large closet slash office. As I went in to grab a pair of boxer briefs to wear after my shower, I looked over to the opposite building.

  Joel would be getting ready for bed too. A rush of need went through me, and I felt my body react to the memory of Joel's slim body pressing against mine earlier this evening. My jeans suddenly became too tight for comfort.

  I walked to the balcony and did what I hadn’t done in twelve years. I opened the door. I hoped the silent message would be received on the other side of the street.

  Then I went back to the bathroom, stepped into the shower, and turned it on. The hot water was like a balm to my sore muscles. I stretched and worked out the kinks from bending over the kitchen worktop all day, but it looked like my blood was determined to remain in the one area I was working hard to ignore, no pun intended.

  I had known I was gay when I was thirteen. Or, at least, I thought I’d been in love with someone of the same gender at that age. I’d never been particularly attracted to girls, but then again, no other boy captured my attention, either. I just hadn’t thought of labels at the time.

  Joel moved away when we were eight, and slowly but surely my feelings went from confused to realizing that my best friend, the person I’d grown up with and couldn't stand to be separated from, wasn't just my best friend; he was my soulmate.

  Of course, that was at thirteen. Now, at twenty-six, I was almost confident it was just a crush. Although, if I was truly honest with myself, I hadn't been interested in anyone since, having chosen instead to honor my mom’s memory with my work at the café.

  I thought of Joel's beautiful blue eyes, like sapphires, and his lips, which looked as soft as cotton candy, and I wondered if they'd be as sweet. Without much conscious thought, I grabbed hold of my cock and squeezed it hard. I stroked slowly but firmly, indulging in the pleasure. I wondered what his lips would feel—

  “Fuck. No,” I shouted to no one. What sort of person does this? I shouldn't even be thinking of Joel this way. I turned the water off and grabbed a towel to dry, forcing myself to think of anything else but Joel.

/>   Feeling unsettled and frustrated, I picked up my recipe notepad on the way to my room, hoping that going through some notes would eventually help me sleep.

  It did work because after only ten minutes, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. The last thing I remembered was that I didn't tell Joel about the journal. I would have to text him in the morning.

  I woke up feeling surprisingly rested. Outside was barely light enough to be called day, and I could tell this was going to be another cold and crisp morning until the sun would come out to burn the morning fog. I went to the bathroom to start my morning routine, and as I walked past the spare bedroom, I realized the balcony door was open.

  Everything hit me all at once—dinner at the café, walking home with Joel, our natural conversation, and then opening the balcony door before I went to bed like in the olden days.

  Then immediately guilt struck. I knew I couldn't allow myself to explore any feelings I may still be harboring for Joel. I wasn't out. I couldn't be out. I knew Joel was out to his family, and they were supportive. I’d never heard his grandparents saying anything that meant they were anything but. My own experience was very different.

  As I settled into my office to do my regular exercises and weights, I allowed my mind to drift and get lost in the mess that was my life.

  Being gay in Portugal didn't carry the same stigma as it once had. At least not openly. In one's home, though, it was an entirely different picture. I knew there were many young people whose parents had kicked them out of their homes and disowned them for being gay, leaving them to fend for themselves at a young age.

  My best friend, Isaac, had been one of those kids. At seventeen and coming from a loving, stable family, he thought he was safe coming out to his parents. They ended up throwing him out of the only home he had ever known, and with no family left, he would have been on the streets if not for me and his brother, Alexandre.

 

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