Twice Shy

by Sally Malcolm

  Joel closed his hand over Ollie’s, trapping his fingers against his leg. “Come here,” he said, reaching for him. It was awkward in the car, the gearshift digging into Ollie’s thigh and the steering wheel getting in the way, but Joel’s hand on the back of his neck was sure and certain and Ollie’s insides softened, melting as their mouths met in a long, leisurely kiss. The only sounds in the car were their ragged inhales and exhales, and the gentle rustle of clothing. Ollie couldn’t help feeling that the moment was significant. It felt significant, like pieces he hadn’t known were muddled tumbling back into place. Order emerging from chaos, things being set right.

  As the kiss slowly ebbed their foreheads came to rest together, breath mingling in the cooling car. Joel’s hand rested against Ollie’s neck, thumb stroking the bolt of his jaw. Smiling, Ollie said, “So…”

  “So. Um, shall I call you this week or…?”

  Ollie sat back enough to meet Joel’s eye. “There’s a— Jackie’s organizing a PTA night out on Friday. Dinner at the Majestic. Are you going?”

  “A PTA night out?” Joel looked dubious.

  Ollie laughed. “I know, but—” Clearing his throat he endeavored to sound casual. “The boys are spending the night at their grandparents Friday and Saturday, so...”

  Joel’s cool gray eyes met his. No, not cool now. Not cool at all. “That sounds like a date.”

  Excited, Ollie grinned. “I guess it does.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  PTA Committee Night Out, Friday November 22nd

  The fact that Joel hadn’t dated in years had never been more apparent than when he stood in front of his open closet and studied his wardrobe in search of something appropriate to wear.

  Appropriate was the wrong word. Nice. He wanted to wear something nice. When was the last time he’d even thought about how he looked? Not in four years, clearly, because all he saw hanging in his closet were the suits he wore for work and the heavy shirts and jeans he wore around the house—a good number of which bore the marks of home improvement.

  Should have thought about this sooner, he chided himself. But it was too late now. Jackie had booked a table for seven and it was already six o’clock. Besides, he was probably over-thinking. That’s what Amy had suggested when he’d shown up in a panic at Tuesday’s appointment.

  “It sounds pretty low-key,” she’d observed from across the coffee table. “A meal out with friends—sounds like Ollie’s happy to take things slow.”

  “It’s still a date,” Joel had objected. “And… I don’t really do ‘low-key’. I don’t see the point. You either want something or you don’t.”

  She’d nodded at that. “But, perhaps, sometimes what you want is simply to have fun? You have fun with Ollie?”

  “Yes. He’s… This sounds stupid, but I feel more myself when I’m around him.”

  “More yourself? What’s that like?”

  An uncomfortable subject, one he’d wished at the time he’d not brought up. “It’s hard to explain. Ollie needs— I like being useful. I like helping him out, it makes me feel good about myself.”

  Amy’s shrewd eyes had glinted. “You enjoy looking after people.”

  “Anything wrong with that?”

  “I don’t think so. Do you?”

  “No.” He’d hesitated, swallowed. “Helen always said I was clingy. Too intense.”

  “That was Helen.”

  “What if she was right?”

  “Helen was only talking about her experience, Joel. She can’t speak for everyone. She can’t speak for Ollie, or what’s right for you in relationship to Ollie. You said being with him made you feel ‘more yourself’. To me, that sounds like a good thing. What about it bothers you?”

  “I didn’t say it bothered me.” Amy said nothing, just waited for more. She always knew when there was more. “The old me,” he ventured, picking his way through his thoughts, “was more confident. But I was over-protective and emotionally…intense. I just felt too much.”

  “Too much is a weighted term, Joel. In the end, your relationship with Helen didn’t work for either of you. It wasn’t because you felt ‘too much’, it was because you and Helen weren’t compatible for several reasons. That doesn’t mean that you need to feel less to make a relationship work. In fact, it’s not possible to control how much you feel. As I think you’re aware.”

  “And that’s the problem.”

  Amy smiled. “So, we’re back to risk. You’re a man who feels deeply, who not only enjoys caring for and protecting others but feels self-actualized in that role—and that’s not something you can just switch on and off. It’s integral to who you are as a person. In a relationship where those feelings were not reciprocated, your emotional wellbeing would be at risk. But you’re also a man who can only jump in with both feet.”

  “Which is why it’s safest not to jump at all.”

  “Perhaps. There are dangers to denying yourself emotional closeness, too.”

  He’d chewed that over all the way home, and it still sat in the back of his mind. For the best part of four years he’d cocooned himself in his safe, unentangled life—his job, his house, his cycling. His routine.

  And then Ollie had come along and somehow slipped past his defenses. Determined and vulnerable, struggling and sweet, he’d wriggled inside before Joel had recognized he was in danger. By the time he knew, it was already too late—he cared about the guy and those kids of his, he wanted to help them. And from that had sprung other feelings. Romantic feelings.

  Desire.

  He closed his eyes, felt a shiver run through him as he remembered those electric moments in the shed. The feel of Ollie in his arms, all that tensile strength and vulnerability, had left him weak. The thought that it might happen again—tonight—left him weaker. No pretending he didn’t want it; his mind was awash with fantasies and half-formed desires. The thought of getting naked together, of being intimate with Ollie, had his heart in his throat. He wanted it; he was afraid that want would undo him.

  But he wasn’t afraid enough to stop.

  In the end, he chose a pair of charcoal jeans, a white button-down that he sometimes wore for work, and a navy blazer—he hoped he didn’t look too conventional. He’d made an effort with his hair, though, even unearthing some product to help it stay in place. Overall, he was pleased with the effect. It looked like he’d tried, but he didn’t look overdressed for dinner with Jackie et al at the Majestic Hotel.

  Odd choice of venue. They usually went to the Rock House for these things, but maybe they wanted somewhere different. Joel didn’t care; all that mattered to him was that Ollie would be there.

  It being a clear, crisp evening Joel decided to leave his bike at home and walk to the Majestic. There was a lovely path along the clifftop that he’d walked plenty of times in daylight, and he was confident of navigating it by moonlight. It was about a forty-minute walk from home, but that didn’t bother him. Walking gave him time to think and the sight of the silvery moon shimmering in the ocean was quite breathtaking. Shame Ollie wasn’t there to enjoy it with him. As he paused to admire the view, he flexed his fingers and imagined what it might feel like to walk hand-in-hand with Ollie, to kiss him in the moonlight.

  So much for keeping things low-key, you romantic fool.

  But it was too cold to be standing about dreaming for long, so he walked on, letting the shushing of the surf at the base of the cliff soothe his thoughts. Yet it couldn’t hold back his mounting excitement as he saw the lights of the Majestic ahead. Although he’d tried not to think too hard about what might happen later that night, Joel liked to be prepared so he’d made sure the house was tidy and that there were clean sheets on the bed. He’d even cycled all the way into Commack after work on Wednesday to buy condoms. Just in case.

  The gardens of the Majestic opened onto the cliff through a wrought iron gate, but Joel didn’t go in that way, instead walking around to the driveway at the front of the hotel. As he emerged from the cliff path, he s
aw Alyssa climbing out of her car and called a greeting.

  She turned in surprise. “Hey! Where’d you spring from?”

  “I walked,” he said. “You look lovely, by the way.”

  Alyssa smiled and gave a little twirl. “Why this old thing? Thank you.” She was wearing a pretty dress in a color that would be called something like ‘teal-blue’ on his paint charts. “Great idea of Ollie’s that we come here, huh? Better than beer and burgers at the Rock House.”

  “This was Ollie’s idea?”

  “Yeah. I like that kid, a breath of fresh air around here. Jackie’s crushing on him big time, by the way. I still haven’t told her he’s gay.”

  Joel laughed, rubbing self-consciously at the back of his neck. Speaking of crushing on Ollie big time… “Maybe you should tell her. Jackie does tend to, er—”

  “Put her foot in it? Yes. She doesn’t mean any harm.”

  He inclined his head. “Doesn’t mean she can’t cause harm anyway. Careless words hurt too.”

  Alyssa studied him. “I know. I’ll fill her in.” A pause. “Ollie’s never mentioned anything to me, but has Jackie said something to upset him?”

  “No, not that I know. But— Well, you know what some parents can be like, and I think the PTA should lead from the front when it comes to inclusion and diversity.”

  Alyssa favored him with an old-fashioned look. “Right. Well, you’ll get no argument from me.”

  “Of course.” He blushed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “I guess we all have to pay attention to what we’re saying, huh?” She cocked her head, still watching him. “I hear Ollie’s still driving your car.”

  “Oh.” Flustered, he said, “It’s no big deal. I hardly use it and he’s stuck after the accident so….”

  Alyssa’s expression softened and she looped her arm through his. “Come on, let’s go inside. I’m freezing my butt off in this dress.”

  The Majestic looked different at night. The foyer was softly lit, giving the impression of space and warmth and old-time elegance. But the dining room was stunning. It had wide windows which, in daylight, must have had spectacular views over the cliffs, but tonight were draped in gauzy net with tiny twinkle lights giving a starlit effect. A hardwood floor gleamed golden in the light of candles on all the scrubbed wood tables, giving the place a less formal, seaside ambiance that both contrasted and complemented the elegant chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

  Several of the tables were occupied by couples or small groups, and Joel’s eyes lit immediately on two women holding hands across their table as they spoke smilingly together. Romantic, intimate. Quite lovely, really.

  “There’s Jackie,” Alyssa said, and headed over to the large round table in the center of the room. Joel hoped they wouldn’t be too raucous and disturb the romantic evening for the Majestic’s other guests.

  Like Alyssa, Jackie was dressed up. Unlike Alyssa she resembled an outré stick of bubblegum in a figure-hugging pink ensemble. “Mr. Morgan!” she cooed as he approached, standing up to ‘Mwah!’ him on each cheek. “Don’t you look handsome? Look, Alyssa, doesn’t Mr. M look dashing tonight.”

  Alyssa glanced up from tucking her purse under her chair, dark eyes bright and amused. “He does indeed.”

  Flushing, he said, “Thank you. I thought—” Whatever it was he’d thought, the idea fled his mind at the sight of Ollie entering the room. Their eyes met over the heads of the seated guests and Joel’s insides gave a disconcerting swoop at the sight of him in smart jeans and a nice moss green sweater that brought out the auburn in his hair—which was styled for once, artfully tousled curls falling over his forehead in a way that made the pit of Joel’s stomach tense with hard, unadulterated want.

  “Hey,” Ollie said, smiling as he reached them. “Jackie, Alyssa—how is everyone? You all look beautiful.”

  Joel’s mouth felt dry and he fumbled himself into a seat next to Alyssa. But Ollie hesitated a beat too long and Jackie snagged him.

  “Come here, Ollie! Sit next to me. Now, I’ve never eaten here before, but I already think it was a wonderful idea. Such pretty decor.”

  Ollie flashed Joel a regretful smile as he took his seat, but Joel thought it was probably for the best that they weren’t sitting next to each other. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to the way he was swooning. Okay, more attention; Alyssa was already grinning.

  “Now then,” Jackie announced, getting them all organized. “Drinks. Who’s having white wine?”

  Since he hadn’t driven, Joel opted for a beer. A little Dutch courage. Or, in this case, the German pilsner variety. There were about ten of them in total around the table, he and Ollie the only men. Conversation, as it usually did between parents who didn’t know each other outside school, tended to revolve around their kids. And it wasn’t that Joel was uninterested, just that he needed to avoid saying anything specific about any of the children he taught and—mostly—that he was hopelessly distracted by Ollie. He was close enough that Joel could hear his conversation with Jackie, and with the woman sitting on Ollie’s other side who Joel thought was called Holly. They were discussing kids’ softball and Ollie was laughing, his face lighting up and his lovely eyes sparkling.

  Joel could hardly believe he’d kissed him, that those smiling lips had opened beneath his own. And that it might happen again, tonight. Perhaps Ollie could sense his gaze because he glanced over and their eyes met for a sizzling moment before Joel quickly looked away, face heating.

  “Hey guys, good evening.”

  Glancing up, he found Luca Moretti standing at his shoulder, as brawny and handsome as ever and drawing everyone’s eyes. Especially Ollie’s. As always when he was around Moretti, Ollie’s expression was difficult to decipher, but intense wouldn’t be far from the mark. An unpleasant sensation slithered into the pit of Joel’s stomach. Envy. He did not need envy back in his life. It had taken him years to root it out after Helen.

  Turning his attention to the menu, Joel studied the choices and kept his gaze away from Ollie. The guy had a right to look at Moretti however he damn well chose.

  “Ah! Mr. Moretti,” Jackie said smilingly. “I was just saying to Ollie how marvelous everything is. What a wonderful job you and your, er, friend have done with the place.”

  “Thank you,” Moretti said coolly. “And Theo’s my fiancé now, actually.”

  A flurry of congratulations followed, which Moretti received with a half-smile, but Joel couldn’t keep from sliding a quick look under his lashes to see how Ollie took the news. He didn’t seem perturbed, but there was a definite self-consciousness about him that Joel couldn’t figure out.

  “Now, what can I get for you all tonight?” Moretti said, pulling a notebook and pencil from his pocket. “The special is seabass with sizzled ginger, cilantro, and spring onion and I can’t recommend it highly enough. Comes with our twice fried potatoes.”

  “That sounds great,” Ollie said, glancing up from his menu with an expression somewhere between defiance and hope. “Yes please.”

  “Cool.” Moretti kept his eyes on his notepad. “You need an appetizer?”

  “No, thanks. But everyone else go ahead if you want.”

  Joel remembered the tension he’d noticed between Ollie and Moretti at Dee’s and sensed it again now. Ollie had denied it, but Joel was beginning to wonder whether they knew each other in some way… But whatever its origin, the tension didn’t seem to be dampening Ollie’s spirits. In fact, once their orders had been taken, his mood flew as high as Joel had ever seen it, and as the night wore on, he grew flushed and talkative in a way that Joel might have mistaken for buzzed if he hadn’t been aware of the single beer Ollie had nursed all night.

  No, his mood had nothing to do with artificial stimulation. This was what Ollie looked like with the weight lifted for an evening. And maybe—judging from the number of times his smiling eyes met Joel’s—what he looked like when he was enjoying the company.

  The onl
y fly in the ointment was the way Ollie’s attention kept drifting toward Moretti, watching as he spoke to other customers and went in and out of the kitchen. But it was only a passing concern, dispelled whenever Ollie’s eyes met his with a gaze so sizzling Joel was surprised the whole table couldn’t feel the heat. And so fierce Joel’s pulse accelerated until it became increasingly difficult to make small talk instead of grabbing Ollie’s hand and making a break for the door. From the increasing frequency and intensity of their shared looks, he was pretty certain Ollie was on the same page.

  Joel didn’t want to be the first to leave—too obvious—but once the check had been paid and people were still lingering he was starting to consider radical escape plans. But at last Sofia Flores pushed back her chair and started talking about getting home for the babysitter.

  “I should go too,” Ollie said, scrambling to his feet. “Uh, Joel? Do you need a ride?” His overly casual question, twinned with the pink in his cheeks, couldn’t have been more obvious—it certainly was to Alyssa, who started making stifled noises behind her delicately raised napkin.

  “Uh, great. Thanks,” Joel said, standing stiffly. He hoped his own flush wasn’t as apparent as he grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and slipped it on. “Have a great Thanksgiving, everyone, if I don’t see you before.”

  He felt a dozen pairs of eyes on his back as he and Ollie made their way out of the restaurant, keeping a discrete distance apart.

  “Thanks, guys, have a good evening,” Theo called from the reception desk as they crossed the foyer. Ollie called back, “You too!”