The guys were late. Nerves danced along my spine, and I was sure the jocks I’d put on this morning had a hole in them, courtesy of my goat Benji. He was a regular hoodlum who had a taste for undies.
But the state of me wearing possibly holey boxers was indicative of the distracted state of my mind.
The sound of an engine dragged my gaze in its direction. My heart sped up, threatening to burst out of my chest Alien-style. My reaction was out of control. It was crazy—being so worked up about Dan coming home. Two years wasn’t a long time in the scheme of things since I’d last seen him, which was when he’d last visited his parents. Not living in the same town as each other for thirteen years was doing a number on me.
But seeing Dan again this time was different.
Everything had changed.
Okay, so not so much “everything,” since my crush remained the same. The difference was this time I could possibly do something about it.
Possibly.
Maybe.
In my sweetest and wildest of dreams.
The squeal of brakes had me exhaling. Any minute now, he’d be stepping out of my brother’s Toyota. With just a few metres and steel between us, I had no idea how to react, not with the nervous excitement thrumming in my veins.
The doors opened, and movement caught my attention. Dan Madison followed after my brother, his eyes already on mine.
His hand tightened around the pack of beers he carried, and pink coloured his cheeks.
But that was likely my imagination making a much bigger deal about this reunion than it really was.
Funny, the things you noticed, though. He had new glasses. They were thicker rimmed than any style I’d seen him wear before. He rocked the whole hot geek vibe. Killed it, in fact.
Though there was nothing geeky about him in the traditional sense. Not when he worked with his hands for a living as a carpenter, and I doubted so much had changed that he wasn’t digitally challenged beyond a game on the Xbox.
It took everything in me not to allow my gaze to eat him up.
Two years—however brief on that one-week visit home—of not working side by side with the man when I talked him into fitting me some new doors.
Two years of not listening to his addictive laugh that made me smile so big my face hurt.
And two years since once again, he’d left me disappointed when he’d waved goodbye and headed back to the city—and his boyfriend—where he’d set himself up with a new life away from the Sunshine Coast hinterland.
Never once had I told him about how I felt, the right time never seeming to arrive. If I’d known he was gay before he’d left town when he was twenty, perhaps I would have been more obvious with my crushing. At eighteen, I’d been very definitely out. But Dan’s sexuality came as a surprise. Craig had dropped that bombshell when I was in my second year of uni.
And hadn’t that been a kick in the gut, swiftly followed by elation. For the first time ever, I’d considered that just maybe I had a chance.
The chance never came, though.
There was no point when we lived a couple of hours apart. Long-distance wasn’t something I thought I could handle, even when it was for my brother’s best friend, the man who’d snagged a piece of my heart when my balls first dropped and my dick had thickened watching Gerard Butler in 300.
There was also the fact he’d had a boyfriend. Had been the exciting word of the day. Almost a year ago, they’d split.
The gravel under his feet grew louder, and his gaze remained fixed to mine. Barely a metre apart, and he stopped, shifting the six-pack to his side.
“Hey, Ross.” Pretty light-brown orbs peered back at me, wide and just as mesmerising as I remembered. “Bloody hell, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
I grinned, uncertain of the words that might fall out of my mouth.
I didn’t need to worry. In Dan’s next breath, he said, “Get your arse over here already and give me a hug.”
I ignored my brother’s snort as he snagged the beer from Dan and walked on past us.
A deep exhale escaped my lungs as I stepped forwards and pulled him into my arms. I wrapped myself around him, holding him tight. The feel of his large limbs, strong and firm, wrapped around my own frame made my heart sing.
“Good to see you too, mate. About time you made the move back to civilisation.” My grin remained wide when I eased away, his snort making me chuckle.
“Civilisation, huh?”
“Yep. You better believe it. You know, a Subway opened in town, and Bunnings got an extension. Civilisation at its best.”
Dan’s laugh washed over me like a familiar hug, the sensation warming me, much like the log fire already built in my sitting room did.
“Come on.” I gripped his arms, giving a happy squeeze. “Let’s go and grab one of those beers.”
He followed me inside, where we located my brother in the kitchen. Three beer bottles were already open, and Craig hovered next to the slow cooker, spoon in hand. “Oi, hands off the stew.”
Craig whipped his head in my direction, quirking his brow at me. “I’m using a spoon, not my fingers.”
“I don’t care if you use a gold ladle, just back off, else I’ll serve you the dregs.”
“Maybe we should do that anyway,” Dan said as he picked up his beer. “Gives us first dibs and overfilled bowls.”
“Bloody hell. And so it begins. You two together are a pain in my arse.” My brother rolled his eyes at the pair of us. “Making it clear now, you two are not ganging up on me.”
“What?” Mock innocence coloured my words. It was true though. Even though they were best mates, they’d always included me when we were kids and during every visit since then. Dan also had my back growing up, often picking my side even when I didn’t deserve it, as I was a pain in my brother’s arse.
I appreciated it, nonetheless.
“No idea what you’re talking about, mate.” Dan took a seat, his gaze roaming the kitchen. “We need to fix this room up.” He cast a look at me.
I snorted. “Maybe… perhaps settle into your place and your new job first, and then I’ll put you to work.”
Dan bobbed his head, though the smirk indicated he’d be looking at fitting out the kitchen as soon as he wanted to. He could be a pushy bugger at times, but always with the best of intentions.
Over the next couple of hours, we ate and chatted about Dan settling back in, Craig’s recent promotion at work and how things were going with his love life, and the diversity initiative I spearheaded at work. The whole time I appreciated how lucky I was to be so close to my brother, and while my feelings for Dan were far more than friendship, I classed him as a good friend. Even after all these years.
That was obvious as each minute passed by.
“Do you remember Mr Whittaker?” Dan asked when we’d fallen into talking about high school.
“You know, he only left Mitchell Oak two years before I started work there.” This was my seventh year working at the same school that I’d attended as a teenager, but as school librarian rather than teacher.
“No shit?” Dan chuckled. “Bloody hell, he was ancient when we were at school. How’d he manage a few more years after that?”
“Right. He didn’t retire till he was in his early seventies, I think. No idea how he lasted that long.” I started clearing up our empty ice-cream bowls and stacked them in the dishwasher.
“And Mrs Bramble. You remember when she did that science experiment in assembly and it went wrong, blowing up?” Craig said, putting away the placemats. “Those dicks… what were their names from the year below us, who caused a stink, made it a nightmare for her?”
I lost my smile, immediately knowing who he was talking about. Every time I thought about my time at school, specifically after I’d come out, unpleasant memories slammed into me. It had taken many counselling sessions when I was at uni to help me let that time go.
The experience, though, had left its mark.
Neither Craig nor Dan knew the half of it.
Over ten years had passed since my year from hell—the year after my brother graduated school. The year that the group he was referring to refused to simply let me be.
I kept my mouth shut as they spoke, not needing to get involved with this blast of memories.
“Shit, what were their names?” Dan said like an annoying dog with a bone. “Jamie? But there was also that other kid who was a shit-stirrer.”
Craig started spouting off names. “Nathan, Ricky?”
I expelled a frustrated breath, wanting them to put this conversation to bed. Grudgingly, I said, “Nick,” the name I didn’t think I’d ever forget.
“That’s the one. God, he was a cockhead.” Craig pulled another beer from the fridge and offered me one. I took it gratefully.
When I sat, I glanced over at Dan, whose focus was on me. The crease between his brows was prominent.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
His gaze searched mine. “Wasn’t he the guy who started giving you shit before we left?”
I rolled my eyes and forced a laugh. “Bloody hell. You’re asking me about something that happened, what, fifteen years ago?”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realised my mistake.
Both of them knew I had the memory of an elephant. That fact was frustrating at times, like now when I feigned being oblivious.
They’d immediately wonder why I was pleading ignorance. They were worse than old Maeve at the local post office when getting information out of someone.
The worst thing was, me hiding any of this had never felt strange before, mainly because I’d sucked up my year in the eleventh grade. I’d had a decent final year in Year 12 though, which was something, once Nick and his gang had left.
That it bugged me now, in all honesty, pissed me off.
“So, plans tomorrow? You still up for a spot of fishing over at Lake Neverfill?”
That I changed the topic wouldn’t be lost on either of them. But for whatever reason, Dan let it slide, saying, “Yeah. Early start, though. Setting our alarm for six?”
I could have kissed him for going with it. Though, I could have happily kissed him anyway just because he was hot as hell and one of the best men I knew.
“Six, really? It’s Sunday. What happened to our lie-in?” Craig grumbled.
“Suck it up, sunshine. The early worm catches the fish.”
I squinted at Dan.
“Yes, I know I butchered the phrase. I’m not the only one good with words.” One of his brows shot high, and I grinned, more than happy to tease and let my high school memories go.
“Uh-huh, let’s just stick with ‘butchered,’ shall we?”
“Okay, wise guy, we can do that. Let me grab my charger out of my bag and sort my alarm now before I have another drink and reconsider waking up early.” I watched as he shoved his socked feet in his boots at the side of the back door. “Which room am I in?”
“The one next to mine. Craig’s got the green room.”
Craig groaned. “You seriously need to do something about the colour of that room, Ross. It makes me feel like I’m gonna throw up whenever I stay in it.”
I smirked. “You’re the one who stays in there the most. Pick a colour, grab a roller, and have at it.”
My home was a work in progress. Since buying the place, it had sucked all my time and money, but it was nice having a few acres and being out of town. I saw enough of the school kids during term time. The last thing I wanted to do was see them more often when out of work. Screw that.
Being here meant I had some space, and while the house was much too big for one man, I made the most of spreading out and trying to make the place my own, one room at a time.
And apparently, the kitchen was next if Dan got his way.
I expected that would be the case.