by Ashlyn Kane
For a moment Leo said nothing, though he spent an inordinate amount of time ensuring he’d absorbed every drop of moisture from the baking sheet. “And did you want to go to Disney World?”
“I wanted to go wherever my mother was. I adored her.” He still did, even if time and distance and Gran had strained their relationship. “And I did, eventually, but only to visit. I never found out what Gran told her, but she….” His throat tightened and didn’t loosen again until Leo swayed close enough to bump his hip against Cole’s. “She told me the plan had changed, and it would be better for me here. So I stayed here with Gran during the school year, and I’d spend summer and winter breaks in Orlando.” He managed a smile. “Mom still takes me to Disney World every year.”
“I’m sorry,” Leo said quietly. “That sounds hard.”
“It does sound a bit sordid when I put it that way,” Cole covered, feeling raw. “But I grew up with Kate and Julie and my other cousins, running wild at family parties on Samhain and Beltane, and I never lacked for anything. And after Mom left, I guess Gran must have felt bad, because she tracked down my dad and introduced us.” The name Marcel Costa wouldn’t mean anything to Leo, but anyone who’d grown up in town would know the family, Brazilian immigrants who’d started a greenhouse enterprise. “He was pretty cautious at first. I think he heard the rumors about the family and was afraid of Mom and Gran.”
“Sensible guy,” Leo commented.
Cole snorted in acknowledgment. “Yeah. It was nice getting to know him, though. Made me feel a lot better about maybe not having magic. He’s busy with work and his family—he married when I was fifteen—but I see them at Christian holidays.” And they accepted that Cole’s family were “pagan” and didn’t care that he was gay except to bug him about when he was going to bring a boyfriend to Easter dinner for the kids to pick on.
That thought led nowhere good, though, so he shook his head, redirecting the conversation. “What’s your family like?”
“Small and undramatic.” Leo shrugged, hanging the dish towel back where he’d taken it from. “My parents are both only children, and it’s just us and my sister. My parents retired to Florida too, actually. And my sister’s on a golf scholarship in South Carolina.”
“That’s awesome for her.” Cole could do with more female athletes getting scholarships. “Sounds like it might be lonely for you, though.”
A fleeting smile faded across Leo’s face. “Good guess.”
You won’t be lonely here, Cole wanted to promise, but the words wouldn’t come out. And he couldn’t reach out either, too raw. “I—”
Niamh alit on the kitchen window. “Don’t suppose you saved me any bacon?”
Leo turned away to fetch it, and the moment broke. Ten minutes later Cole escaped to the privacy of his shop, the weight of the universe’s expectations heavy on his heart.
Chapter Twelve
LEO started the midnight shift Monday, so at least his first week with a roommate should be fairly painless, since they wouldn’t be in each other’s pockets. He and Cole stayed up until eleven critiquing Dancing with the Stars contestants on Saturday; then Cole went to bed and Leo binged Breaking Bad on Netflix. Talk about giving him perspective.
He woke too early on Monday to the sound of “Single Ladies: the Cole Alpin Remix.” He stared at the ceiling for a minute, wondering if he should say something, but going upstairs and interrupting Cole’s shower concert seemed like a lot of effort. Besides, it was kind of funny, and he could always go back to sleep when Cole had left.
He yawned intermittently all day, but that wasn’t unusual for the first day of a swing shift.
“Coffee,” Jimmy said at two, handing over a mug. “You look like you need it.”
Leo snorted but took the cup. “Start an IV.” An old joke, but who could come up with fresh material at this hour?
Despite the time, he managed to remember to drive back to Cole’s rather than his own place, and he stumbled blearily up the stairs and into the shower before falling face-first onto the couch and passing out.
He’d been asleep what felt like ten minutes—the insides of his eyelids were still grainy—when the water kicked on upstairs. Groaning, he pressed his face into his pillow. So living with a roommate while working midnights was going to require some adjustments. He made a mental note to buy a sleep mask and some noise-canceling headphones and reminded himself Cole didn’t owe him anything.
Still. It was going to be a long week.
THE clamor of the pipes shuddering to life woke Cole out of a dead sleep early Saturday morning, just as they had the rest of the week. He might as well get up and make coffee.
Except, when he got downstairs and filled the kettle, there wasn’t any more coffee.
Cole stared at the empty bag, betrayed. Then he double-checked the pantry. Sadly, no life-giving little baggies of roasted goodness lurked on the shelves. The french press sat on the counter, a centimeter of water covering some slushy grinds. The grinder yielded nothing more promising than a few sad half-masticated beans.
Cole had promised Danielle the day off in exchange for her handling last Friday, or he would have climbed back up the stairs and put himself back to bed. Maybe he could put up a sign saying he was out sick and the store would be closed today? But Saturdays were good business days. Or maybe—
“Hey.” Leo entered the living room, moving as if his feet were tied together and he was fighting gravity for every step.
“Did you drink the last of the coffee?” Cole blurted.
Leo stopped in his tracks, mouth open. “I—shit. Yeah.” He rubbed his eyes, grimacing. “Sorry. I meant to grab more before work, but I’ve been a little….”
“Distracted?” Cole suggested, deflating a little. It seemed mean to get confrontational when Leo was dealing with a lot.
“Exhausted.” Now that he mentioned it, Cole noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the pallor to his skin. Maybe the midnight shift didn’t agree with him? Or he was having nightmares? Or—“I wake up every time you shower, and it’s a lot harder to fall back asleep when it’s light outside.”
Oooooor Cole had unwittingly been a bad roommate too. “Oh.” This was awkward. “Sorry.” Then, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Leo gave a twisted, aborted shrug. “You’re already helping me break a curse, plus I’m sleeping on your couch, watching your TV, using your internet, drinking your coffee…. Complaining about your shower karaoke routine seemed ungrateful.”
Oh God. Cole’s ears burned. “All right. Well. I’ll cancel the morning edition while you’re on midnights. And I’m calling a plumber, because the rattling pipes wake me up every time you shower.”
Leo tossed the couch cushions onto the floor and gave a laugh that turned into a groan. “We are going to have to communicate better. I’ll shower at work when I’m on midnights. You don’t have to go to the trouble.”
“Maybe not, but I should probably have them checked out anyway before they explode and we have to start taking sponge baths in the kitchen sink.” And now he should change the subject before things got awkward, because Leo was climbing into bed and Cole was talking about being naked, and that combination couldn’t go anywhere fun. “I’ll grab a coffee on my way into the shop. You look done in.”
“Thanks.” Leo pulled the sheet up and closed his eyes.
Cole had been debating getting out the Swiffer to clear up the dust bunnies in the corner, but he decided it could wait.
“SO we’re still on for tomorrow night, right?” Amy asked, putting her credit card back in her purse as Cole finished packing up that week’s order.
Leo set Cole’s lunch on the counter of the candy shop and then froze. He’d run into Amy by accident, but it was a good thing he had, because he’d forgotten he’d agreed to host games night, thinking that the curse would be broken and he’d be back in his own place by now. “Oh my God, I totally forgot. My apartment’s being fumigated.” He hoped he hid his wince at the l
ie. Just when he was getting the hang of being a better roommate…. “I’ve been staying with Cole. Hence the lunch delivery. Least I could do.”
Cole peered into the bag, then laughed. “This is a sandwich from Tim Hortons.”
“A sandwich and a donut,” Leo corrected, faux defensive. “I was out running errands and didn’t have time to go ho—back to your place first.” Jeez. He’d been there two weeks. Maybe he was getting a little too comfortable.
“Well, I won’t complain,” Cole said, pulling out the donut. He looked at it the way guys in the club used to look at Leo. Should he give them a moment?
Before he could make a comment, Cole put the donut down—carefully, so only the paper touched the counter. “Anyway, you can have games night at my place if you want. I don’t mind.”
Keenly aware of Amy’s shrewd gaze, Leo asked, “You’re sure? You’re already doing me a huge favor….”
Cole shrugged. “I don’t have any plans Saturday night, barring maybe some Netflix.”
“Do you like games?” Amy broke in, sweet as the rock candy in the jar on the counter. “We can always use one more player.”
Leo fought the urge to stomp on her foot. After two weekly games nights—he’d missed one because of work—he knew more of those games had adult themes than not, and he couldn’t guarantee the curse wouldn’t keep him from flirting with Cole, even within the context of a game. Because he was starting to mean it.
Meaning it hadn’t exactly worked out well for him last time. Besides, he liked winning.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude—”
“Nonsense! In your own house?” Amy pished. “I’ll bring wine. You bring your A game.”
Cole smiled, obviously pleased to be included, damn it, which meant Leo didn’t have the heart to try to talk him out of it. “Oh, I will. See you tomorrow.”
“I, um, I’m gonna go too,” Leo said. “See you at your place?”
“Sure.”
“Amy, you want to get a coffee?” he asked, perhaps a bit desperately.
“Didn’t you just come from Tim Hortons?” Amy asked, unfortunately before the shop door closed behind them.
Leo’s face flamed. Now Cole probably thought Leo wanted to talk to Amy about him, and—he hadn’t realized how much not being able to flirt directly would make him feel like a seventh grader. “Yes, but not for coffee.” Timmies’ baked goods and sandwiches were tasty, but he didn’t drink their dishwater brew. Not when he could go to Caffeine.
“Uh-huh,” Amy said, but she looped her arm through his and allowed him to lead her across the street. “So fumigation, eh? How lucky you’ve managed to find another friend in town.”
Her tone was teasing but also probing. Leo didn’t need any more questions right now. He was having a hard enough time being honest with himself. “I promise I’m sleeping on the couch.”
“Oh, all right,” she said, scooting inside the café when he held the door for her. “But you have to admit, he’s pretty cute, right?”
Did Leo have to admit that? The blush he could feel heating his cheeks seemed to think so. “He wouldn’t normally have been my type,” he admitted as they got into line. Cole was too sunny, too open, too genuine.
“But?”
Damn her, she was just too perceptive. Maybe she had obscure powers after all. “But my normal type turned out to be ‘douchebag.’” At least that made them easy to get over.
Amy laughed and let Leo buy her a coffee, and they found a table in the back corner.
“So what’s the latest on the wedding you’re coordinating?”
“All set. A total of three hours on the phone and a few emails sent and they’re all set for December 21.” She shrugged and held her mug close to her face. “If they were all that easy I could take a week’s vacation every month.”
“The dream,” Leo teased.
“Oh, don’t give me that. You could, you lucky thing.”
“Yeah, but I’d end up working ten days back-to-back.” He’d done it before, but it made him feel like the walking dead.
Shit, he hoped the walking dead weren’t a real thing.
“True.” Amy took a sip and set her drink down. “And it’s no fun to take a week off and go on vacation by yourself. Or at least it would get old after a few months. I like some company.”
Leo nodded. “Yeah, I think I’d get sick of myself.” It would be nice to go visit his parents, maybe. He hadn’t seen much of them since last Christmas, and this year he’d be low on the seniority list and would probably have to work. Maybe he could visit in January instead, make it a New Year’s thing.
“Maybe I’ll go away in March,” Amy mused. “Hardly anyone gets married in March.”
“You’ll jinx it,” Leo warned, and then wondered if that was real.
He needed to get a handle on himself.
“Not strategizing for tomorrow night, are you?”
Leo looked up and smiled. Andre, the café owner, stood beside their table, smiling impishly—not literally impishly, Leo didn’t think, though the smooth pale skin and dimples certainly could have belonged to an imp. If Leo’s mental image of imps was accurate. But he was pretty sure six four was too tall. “That’s cheating,” Andre added.
Amy kicked out a chair for him and he sat. “We haven’t even drawn teams yet. And anyway we’ve got a new player tomorrow because Leo’s apartment’s being fumigated.”
Andre cocked his head, a smooth, elegant gesture. “You’re over in the place on Main Street, aren’t you? I have a friend who lives in that building. I’m surprised he didn’t mention anything.”
Damn small towns. Did everyone always have to know everyone else? “It’s just my place with the problem, I guess,” Leo lied, hoping he didn’t sound completely transparent. “Honestly, I stopped listening when they started talking about bugs. I’m happier not knowing.”
Amy shivered. “Don’t blame you.”
“So we’re meeting at your place again?” Andre asked her.
“Um, no.” Leo smiled. “That’s… my friend Cole is putting me up until I can go back to my place. He volunteered to let us have game night there so Amy doesn’t have to clean two Saturdays in a row.”
Amy wadded up her napkin and threw it at him.
“Actually, maybe he just wanted me to vacuum?” Leo joked aloud, snatching the paper out of the air. “I would’ve done it anyway.”
“Well, I look forward to tomorrow’s victory,” Andre joked. Then he tapped his palm flat on the table twice and stood smoothly. “See you then. I have to go sling coffee. One of my baristas has the flu.”
Amy shook her head and then checked her watch. “Shoot, I have to go too. I have a meeting with a vendor at one. You going to be all right?”
What an odd question. Unless she knew something? “I’ll be fine,” Leo promised. “I’ve drunk caffeine unsupervised before, I promise.”
She stuck her tongue out. “See you tomorrow, then.”
Once they’d left, Leo sat in his seat at the table in the corner, watching the people in the café. If Niamh was right, some of the people in here belonged in Cole’s world, not his. Or—no, that wasn’t right. They had as much right to this world as Leo, only they experienced it in a completely different way.
What else might be real? Leo wondered. Talking magpies. Witches. Vampires. Leprechauns, maybe? Banshees? Sea monsters? Demons?
What about goblins? That woman sitting near the window looked furtive, the way she was shoving that cookie in her mouth. Did goblins like cookies? Or was that an elf thing?
Never mind. Whichever it was, Leo and Cole didn’t have any, and you couldn’t host a successful games night without snacks. Leo needed to go shopping.
COLE spent Saturday morning at the shop, making candy. It helped take his mind off… things, with Leo, like the way Leo had looked first thing when Cole got up, passed out on Cole’s couch, shirtless and with the blanket tangled around his legs.
He would’ve looked better in Cole
’s bed.
Torn between tucking the blanket around him properly and not wanting Leo to wake up while Cole was doing something so sappy, he’d left well enough alone. Leo sat up while Cole was making coffee, stretched so languidly that Cole spilled grounds all over the counter, and then offered a sleepy smile.
Cole needed the complete meditation of candymaking today. He immersed himself in sugar and flavor, color and texture. By the time three o’clock rolled around, he’d made raspberry-basil candy sticks the same blue as Leo’s eyes, apricot pastilles the exact shade of Leo’s hair, and very pink, plump bubblegum.
So apparently Cole’s subconscious was having some thoughts at work. It happened. Or at least he was pretty sure it happened to other people, though he’d never experienced it himself until now. He bagged some of the candy to take home to games night, waved at Danielle, who was entertaining a group of kids with party hats, and left the shop.
Strains of music drifted out the open windows as he pulled into his driveway. Curious, he listened for a minute, wondering about Leo’s taste in music. After their talk a week ago, Leo had been on very good roommate behavior, and he hadn’t played anything loud enough to be overheard. Cole had expected hip-hop, R&B, the sort of music played at the clubs Leo had frequented until recently. Instead he got the Shangri-Las. Cute.
Inside the front door, Cole started to kick off his shoes—and then stopped and looked around. Leo must have been as busy as Cole this morning, because the house gleamed. The hardwood floors looked like they’d just been polished. The air smelled of lemons. The baseboards shone. The air held not a single speck of dust.
Cole bent over and untied his shoes, then put them in the front closet, which had also had a face-lift. “Leo?” Jeez, he’d even washed Niamh’s perch. Cole hated that job, even though Niamh never left a mess in the house. The feathers made him sneeze.
