by Ashley John
The lure of the ocean was just about to win, but the peeping Tom from the window wandered sheepishly into the kitchen followed by a small girl with a mane of red hair.
Fuck, he's even cuter up close.
Oliver relished the look of shock that spread across the boy's face, but it only seemed to make him cuter. Sandy colored hair sat messily on his head, above a pair of dazzling green eyes which glittered against his pale and pasty skin. He dropped his eyes to the ground after glancing at his abs again, but his pale cheeks flushed bright red showing Oliver his embarrassment.
Don't be embarrassed. A guy as cute as you could look all day.
“That'd be great Evelyn,” Oliver smiled, staring at the stranger like an animal who was about to eat his prey, “I'm sure I can squeeze in a bite or two.”
“This is Charlie and Poppy,” Evelyn smiled, “and this is Sarah, my niece.”
Sarah walked into the kitchen and smiled politely at Oliver before her gaze dropped hungrily to the table full of food. Oliver quickly focused back on Charlie, who he could tell was starting to fidget under his fixated gaze. Oliver tried to ignore his own fidgeting in his groin.
Almost pushing Evelyn out of the way, he quickly sat himself across the table from where Charlie had chosen to sit. Leaning casually back into the chair, he made sure that his body was on perfect display to catch the attention of wandering eyes.
Honestly, I don't mind you looking.
Oliver was almost disappointed when Charlie met his gaze instead of admiring him from up close. For a second, they stared at each other, but Charlie's eyes flickered away and darted awkwardly around the table.
“Tuck in everyone,” Evelyn declared, “there's plenty to go around!”
“This is just like what you used to do when I was a kid Aunt Evelyn,” Sarah laughed, as she loaded chicken wings onto her plate.
“It's been a while since I've cooked for so many people.”
He had to admit, he never knew that she had any other family. His parents told him how she had a husband who died years ago and she'd been living off the money he'd left her ever since, and they might have mentioned a son but he couldn't be too sure. His parents seemed to turn their nose down at her because of it, but Oliver could see the loneliness in her gaze whenever they spoke.
As Oliver piled his plate with food he could hear his stomach growling after an exhausting afternoon's work, but he wasn't listening to his stomach. Instead, he was listening to the beating of his heart as it pumped and fluttered in his chest shooting warmth through his veins.
Taking a bite into a greasy chicken wing, it didn't satisfy the restless lust deep inside of his gut. He was hungry for something else. He was hungry for the boy with the sandy hair and green eyes who was sat in front of him, trying to dodge his gaze.
God, I want him.
“So, Charlie,” Oliver smiled, still staring seductively into his eyes, “what brings you to Surf Bay?”
***
Why does he keep staring at me like that?
Charlie felt uneasy in his seat as he tried to hold the gardener's gaze. He'd stare back for a second, but he'd have to flicker away. He didn't know whether he should apologize about staring at him from the window. He was more than aware that ducking out of the way had made him look like he was doing something he shouldn't have.
I was only looking.
“We've moved from Alaska,” he said, stabbing his fork into a lettuce leaf.
“Alaska? I guess you're not used to the heat then?” Charlie raised an eyebrow when Oliver winked at him.
“We were only there for 6 months.”
He glanced to his mother for help but she was busy giggling with Aunt Evelyn about old times. Poppy was next to him, but she wasn't going to save him from the awkward conversation. Making the tomato and the carrot kiss was far more interesting to her.
“So you're only here for a visit?” Oliver asked with his eyes still locked on Charlie's.
“I don't think so,” Charlie said, trying to hold the stranger's gaze, “I hope we're here for good.”
“Awesome,” Oliver smiled.
He dropped his fork onto his plate and propped his elbows on the edge of the table, leaning forward slightly. Charlie tried not to notice his abs ripple as he did it because he knew guys like him loved it when you noticed they worked out.
“So I'll be seeing you around then?” Oliver's smile widened as he tilted his head slightly down, not breaking eye contact.
“What's with all the questions?” Charlie asked, harsher than he'd intended.
“I just want to get to know you,” Oliver whispered, slowly blinking his thick and dark lashes.
Charlie didn't know how to tell him he wasn't interested in guys. From the way Oliver was looking at him, he was sure he was gay. Jesus, stop staring at me like a piece of meat.
He racked his brain, trying to think of a way to bring up the girlfriend he had in Alaska. Leaning back in his chair, he thought back to Melissa. When he'd left, they'd both cried and promised to talk on the phone every day, but every time he'd tried to call her on the train journey, she'd been too busy to talk for more than a couple of minutes.
“I'm sure I'll see you around,” Charlie said casually.
Charlie couldn't believe it when Oliver leaned even further in.
“I hope so,” he smiled, winking his warm, brown eye again.
Charlie's mouth warped into something halfway between a smile and a snarl as he raised his eyebrows so much, he could feel his forehead creasing. Oliver blinked and snapped his gaze away from Charlie for the first time since they'd sat down. Charlie let out a sigh of relief, a little louder than he'd intended.
“This is really great Evelyn,” Oliver beamed across the table.
Charlie snorted when he saw the look on her face. It was a look of pure admiration. When he noticed Oliver's plate, he rolled his eyes again when he saw that he had hardly touched his food.
“Oliver is such a sweetheart,” she gushed, turning to Sarah who smiled in agreement, “have you finished outside?”
“I just need to clear my tools away and then I'll be out of your hair.”
“You know I could have you around all day Oliver!” she laughed, “it's nice having a good looking man around the place.”
Charlie felt like the only one not under his spell.
“I don't wear a shirt just for you Evelyn,” he winked, sitting back in his chair again.
Charlie watched as his mother and Aunt giggled to themselves like naughty schoolgirls, sneaking quick glances at his body. To Charlie, he looked abnormal. His body looked like that of a man much older, but his face was that of a teenage boy who hadn't seen anything exciting in life.
“I want to see the garden!” Poppy wailed, throwing the crust of the sandwich she was still chewing onto the plate.
“Do you want me to show you?” Oliver smiled.
“Yes please!” Poppy cried, jumping out of her chair and running around the table to where Oliver was sat.
Charlie watched jealously as Poppy dragged Oliver out of his seat and towards the door. As he slipped his feet into a pair of muddy boots that had been cast messily by the refrigerator, Oliver's eyes stayed trained on Charlie as a sly smirk twisted across his mouth. His tongue gently ran across his pink lip before biting it playfully.
This time Charlie didn't look away, instead he stared back, but his eyes didn't possess the sweet, sultry look that Oliver's did. Charlie's eyes were piercing through Oliver's and as he focused on him, he could only muster one word to describe the mysterious gardener who everyone else seemed to adore.
Arrogant.
“Come on Charlie,” his mother said, heading for the door, “let's go and have a proper look around.”
Sighing deeply, he pushed away from the table, leaving his food.
He could see Oliver leading Poppy around the showing her the different flowers and plants. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't jealous that his own sister had taken such a qu
ick shine to a stranger who was already irritating Charlie, but as he did, he could feel the snake twisting around in his stomach.
He's a douche Charlie. Nothing more, nothing less.
Charlie didn't gush over the garden like the rest of them, instead he stayed very much on the edge judging the uneven blades of grass and rough edges. He didn't want to set foot into Oliver's domain.
Leaving the fan club, he wandered around the side of the house and came across a small wooden shed. Like the house, it was painted pink, but it didn't look as fresh as the rest of the wood. Creeping ivy covered the sides and the roof, giving it a sinister feel. Intrigued, Charlie lightly pushed the door open, expecting to see something vaguely exciting inside to draw his attention away from the arrogant gardener, whose eyes he could still feel itching on his skin.
The excitement inside of Charlie quickly deflated when he saw it was just filled with gardening tools and pink coated tins of old paint.
He no doubt paints the damn house as well.
Taking a step forward, Charlie peered up at the cobweb coated roof, when he saw a dust covered light bulb and a rusty old chain.
“Looking for something?” Charlie spun around on the spot as the light flickered into life, his heart pounding in his chest.
You fucking scared me.
“No,” Charlie said, trying to disguise his gasp of fear.
Charlie could tell that Oliver loved that he had made him jump. He swaggered back on his heels and folded his bulging arms as a smug look spread across his dewy face. He stood in the doorframe like an Adonis, guarding his kingdom and Charlie was sure that he wouldn't let him leave easily.
The dim light swung gently from the ceiling, casting washes of light across the contents of the shed. Charlie glared at Oliver as the light dusted back and forth across his soft face, giving it a menacing touch.
“You know, you shouldn't go snooping around,” Oliver smirked, cocking his head to the side.
“She's my Great Aunt,” Charlie shot back defensively.
He'd only met her that day, but he already knew he had more right to be snooping than Oliver did.
“Funny how she's never mentioned you before,” Oliver smirked.
The look in his eyes scared Charlie. As they drifted slowly across Charlie's body, hovering over his crotch, he could feel himself being mentally undressed.
“Why would she mention me to you?” Charlie sneered, folding his own arms, trying to hide how exposed he felt, "You're just the gardener."
Charlie knew how rude he sounded but he didn't care.
"I'm not a gardener," Oliver laughed, "this is just a side thing."
"That'll explain why the garden doesn't look too neat then," Charlie said, narrowing his eyes on the stranger.
“You're feisty aren't you?” Oliver smiled.
“And you're full of yourself, aren't you?”
A warm and soft laugh escaped Oliver's throat, making the hairs on the back of Charlie's arms stand to attention.
“Touché,” Oliver whispered softly in an impressive mock French accent.
With his arms crossed, his pecs bulged out of his chest and his biceps popped into solid and smooth hills. Shaking his head, he stopped giving Oliver the attention he wanted and stepped forwards, so he was face to face with him.
“If you don't mind, I'd like it if you moved,” Charlie whispered.
Charlie could see Oliver's eyes hovering over his lips.
“I'd like it if you just stood there and looked pretty for a few more minutes so I get a proper image for my wank bank.”
Is this guy for real?
“I don't know what sick game you're playing, but you better move,” Charlie's fists tightened, knowing that he didn't stand a chance against somebody with arms that big.
“What sort of sick games do you like to play?” Oliver whispered in a deep, low voice, leaning in even further to Charlie's lips.
They were so close, Charlie could smell coffee on his breath and he noticed a faint scar on his jawline, which was the only blemish on an otherwise untouched canvas. Oliver's tongue ran slowly across his lip and he watched, hypnotized as it left a glistening trail of saliva.
“Move,” Charlie whispered back, snapping his eyes up.
To Charlie's surprise, Oliver sidestepped into the shed and stood under the soft glow of the light. For a second, Charlie hovered in the entrance, almost suffocating from the intensity, before stepping out into the burning sunlight.
“Charlie?” Oliver called after him.
Stopping in his tracks he turned around to see Oliver's defined arm reaching up to grab the rust covered chain. A flash of dark hair under his armpit caught his eye, as it was the exact same chocolate brown color as the hair on his head.
“What?”
“I hope I see you around,” Oliver smirked as he pulled on the chain, sending the shed back into darkness.
I hope not.
Ch
apter 3
C'mon, pick up Melissa.
Charlie clutched onto the payphone and squeezed his eyes shut as he listened to the dial tone. He'd been with Aunt Evelyn for a few days, and every chance he got, he rang Melisa, but she wasn't picking up.
C'mon, we haven't spoken since those two minutes on the train four days ago.
The ringing suddenly stopped.
“Melissa? Are you there?” Charlie whispered excitedly down the handset.
“Hi, it's Melissa. I'm not here right now, but if you'd liked to get hold of me (I mean, who wouldn't?), leave a message after the tone.”
Charlie slammed the phone back into its place and turned to his mother who was leaning against the edge of the payphone.
“Maybe she's just busy?” she suggested as Charlie tried to hide his disappointment.
Or maybe she just doesn't want a relationship with someone 2000 miles away.
“Why California?” Charlie questioned, staring his mother dead in the eyes, “We could have gone anywhere in the country, and you picked the place furthest away from Alaska. I was actually starting to get some sort of a life up there.”
“You know why,” she smiled, dropping her eyes to her feet and tucking a stray strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, “Aunt Evelyn lives here.”
“We could have gone anywhere,” Charlie mumbled, staring down at Poppy who was kicking the side of the payphone.
“Don't you like it here?” she asked.
Charlie had to admit, it was a nice place. He glanced up and down the main street of the town, and it was very pretty. Each side of the perfect road was filled with a line of neat stores. There was no trash on the street, and when people walked past, even though Charlie didn't know anybody, they'd tip their head to him.
It was practically perfect.
“Can you just look after Poppy? I need to pop into the diner,” his mother called, and without waiting for an answer, slipped into the 1950s style diner they were hovering outside.
He'd overheard Evelyn telling her about the owner's wife breaking her hip and that he was looking for some help so she can recover. His mother had a talent for getting a job by just walking in and flashing her smile. Her problem was keeping hold of it.
“Can we go to the toy store?” Poppy cried, noticing the brightly colored display of stuffed animals across the street.
Peering through the window of the diner, Charlie could see that she was already engrossed in a conversation with a short, balding man with thick set glasses.
“We can have a look in the window,” Charlie sighed, knowing they had no money left to waste on toys for Poppy.
Looking both ways with Poppy's hand in his, they headed across the road, but as they did, Charlie noticed someone walking past the toy store.
Oliver.
He stopped dead in the middle of the road trying to find an escape route. Poppy already had her eyes fixed on the colorful toys, so trying to drag her back across the road would only end in disaster. Glancing up and down the street for a sign of help, Ol
iver's eyes landed on him and a dry smirk spread across his face.
Here we go.
***
Oh today just got a lot more interesting.
Stopping outside of the toy store, he watched as Poppy dragged Charlie across the road. The way his feet were shuffling behind mildly amused him. It was almost as if he was trying to slow the inevitable.
Don't worry Charlie, I don't bite – unless you ask.
“I thought I'd be seeing you around,” Oliver said.
Charlie's eyes dropped to the ground again.
“I'm just taking Poppy inside here.”
“I thought you said we were only looking through the window?” Poppy cried, ripping away from Charlie's hand and running up to the rainbow display of plush toys and dolls.
“You have a habit of peering through windows don't you?” Oliver teased in a husky whisper.
He could tell Charlie was imagining him without his shirt on again as his eyes flickered from him to Poppy.
“You have a habit of being a bit of a dick, don't you?” Charlie shot back, still not able to look him in the eyes.
“Say dick again,” Oliver whispered, stuffing his hands into his tight, light denim jeans.
Oliver smiled, pleased with himself when he got the exact reaction from Charlie that he'd wanted.
Fear.
“If you don't mind, I'm busy,” Charlie said stepping around Oliver and joining Poppy at the window.
Oliver watched Charlie's perky backside shift under his black jeans.
Damn boy, that's an ass.
Not wanting to give up, Oliver joined them at the window, choosing to stand next to Poppy so she was sandwiched between them.
“Which one is your favorite?” Oliver smiled down at Poppy, dropping any hint of flirtation and putting on his 'child friendly' voice.
“The pink one!” Poppy cried, pressing her nose firmly against the glass.
“I like that one too.”
