Chapter Five
Lane
Standing in Oliver’s kitchen, reminiscing about school and all the shit we’d gotten up to had reopened an old ache deep in my chest. I wanted to be angry at him for everything that had happened, but something was stopping me from going that far.
Listening to Oliver talk about his job and cooking with his housemates made me realise how much I’d missed out on that I should have been a part of.
It was more grief for the time we’d lost than anything else.
Standing there together felt like nothing had changed, yet everything had.
“Sorry,” Oliver said. “This is probably weird. Talking about school and shit.” He was still holding his mug of tea, which had to be stone cold by now, and it was almost cute seeing how easily distracted he was.
Fuck, I should not be thinking Oliver was cute. Even if it was the truth.
“It’s fine,” I said. “No big deal.”
“Really?” Oliver raised an eyebrow. He clearly didn’t believe a word of my bullshit. “Because it’s weird for me.”
I shrugged, trying to brush it off, even though I knew Oliver could see straight through it. “It’s a bit weird. Could be worse, though.”
I wasn’t sure how, but I was sure it could be.
There was a long pause while both of us searched around for something to say.
We were both still avoiding the bloody great elephant in the room that was our fallout, but neither of us wanted to address it.
Maybe because as soon as one of us pointed it out, we’d have to deal with the fucker, and I didn’t have the energy for that. Not today.
Oliver lifted his mug and took a sip, then pulled a face and shuddered. “Ugh. Fuck, that’s disgusting.”
“If you’re sticking the kettle on to make another, I’ll take one,” I said, seeing an opening for a subject change and seizing it with both hands. “The guys will too.”
“I kinda have to stick it on now,” Oliver said with a smile and a shake of his head as he tipped the cold tea down the sink. “Otherwise, I look like an asshole. What will you do when the power’s out for the day?”
I shrugged. “Bring a generator? Send someone on a tea run? Probably Joe since he’s the youngest. He’s Paul’s apprentice, so he gets the shit jobs like making tea.”
“If you text me what you want, I’ll bring you some back from Novel Tea,” Oliver said as he refilled the kettle.
“Or if you get really desperate, just ask Mabel next door. She’ll drag Ivor into make it for you.
” He looked over at me and grinned, and it made something tighten in my gut.
“By the way, Ivor says you’re to watch his roses.
I doubt you’ll be going anywhere near them, but the warning was issued as soon as I arrived. ”
“No worries. And you don’t have to bring us anything. It’s fine. We’ll manage.”
“I might do anyway. I’m just really grateful to you for getting this place sorted.”
“It’s what we do.” I suddenly realised I had an opening for the question that had been nagging at me all weekend. “So, are you moving back here, then?”
Oliver’s shoulders tensed. “No, I don’t think so. I know Nan left me the house, but my life is in London. I’m not sure I’m ready to leave yet.”
He didn’t sound as convinced by that as he wanted me to believe, but I wasn’t going to push it. The emotion churning in my stomach should have been relief, but it wasn’t. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I don’t know. Sell it probably. I might see if Mum and David want to buy it. If not, I guess my other option is a holiday let or Airbnb. I haven’t decided yet.”
I let out a snort of derision, and Oliver turned to look at me.
I knew it was none of my business. I was just the guy who’d been hired to oversee the renovations.
I wasn’t there to make comments about what the property owner chose to do with the place.
But this was Oliver, and I couldn’t keep my feelings a secret from him. Even if I wanted to.
“Seriously? An Airbnb?”
“As a last option. What’s wrong with that?”
“Look, it’s your house, so do whatever the fuck you want with it, but if you’re not going to live here, at least sell it or rent it to someone who will,” I said.
“The last few years, this whole place has become a tourist hotspot thanks to a bunch of articles about the best unknown UK holiday destinations, and that’s fine because tourism has always supported local businesses.
But now we’re getting shitty landlords who won’t rent to people who actually live here because they can get more money from holidaymakers coming for a week at a time than they can from locals who’ll be here year-round.
Or you get people buying houses to use as second homes or holiday lets, and it’s starting to mean people can’t afford to fucking live in town.
In the place they’ve always called home. ”
Oliver’s face went ashen, and I realised I’d been ranting. I wasn’t shouting, but my heart was racing faster than an F1 car at Monza. The housing issue was something that continuously irritated me, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on him.
“Sorry,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Ignore me.”
“No, you make a valid point. I was just thinking about what would be easiest for me.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t sell it. If you don’t want to live here, you don’t have to.” Even if, just for a minute, I wished he would.
I shook the thought away. That wasn’t going to happen, and I didn’t want it to. I’d worked too hard to get over Oliver to be derailed now.
“No, but I can make sure to sell it to someone who will,” Oliver said, digging a load more mugs out of the cupboard and throwing teabags into each one.
“If Mum and David don’t want to live here, I’m sure I can get the estate agents to ask people who’re interested about their plans for the place.
I don’t think there’d be legal repercussions because it’s not like I’m discriminating against a protected characteristic. Just landlords.”
“Cheers,” I said because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
I was sure I’d made myself look like a first-class dick, but Oliver had just rolled with it.
The subject was one close to my heart because I knew so many people who’d had rent increases, and there were always stories floating around about people who’d had their tenancy ended because one bastard could make the monthly rent two or three times over by listing it on Airbnb.
I got that people needed to make a living, but I had a hard time feeling any sympathy for landlords.
“So what are you thinking for the décor? More neutral colours?” I asked as Oliver handed me a cup of tea. It would be safer to stick to work as a topic of conversation rather than risk going off at him about something else.
I wanted to believe Oliver when he’d said he’d check out potential buyers, considering it was easy to see how attached he was to the house, but I couldn’t get all the way there. Ultimately, it would come down to money and emotion, which wasn’t the best combination for making rational decisions.
“Maybe? I don’t want it to be boring, though, and neither would Nan.
I think beige or grey is just going to make the place look dull and dated.
It really needs a pop of colour in places, maybe a good wallpaper.
Something that will bring the place to life without making it look ridiculous. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. You’ll have to get some samples and put them up. See what you like best.”
Oliver nodded. “Where’s the best place for that? Is there still that B&Q in the retail park? I can probably get the bus out there at some point.”
“You could, but you’d be better off going down to Scotty’s. Just mention that I sent you, and he’ll see you right.”
“Scotty’s?” Oliver asked with a quizzical frown.
“Scott’s Decorating Centre. Just off Morley Rise,” I said. “There’s a little industrial estate there, and it’s on the left. You can probably walk if you don’t mind a bit of a trek.”
“I’ll find it. Or at least, Google will.”
I chuckled. “Town hasn’t changed that much since you left.”
“Yeah, but I was always hideous with directions anyway,” Oliver said. “I never knew where anything was.”
“And that’s why I always drove.”
That and because I could sometimes take Dad’s old van out, and it meant we could head down one of the back roads towards Riddle Cove where nobody went at night and get each other off in the back.
I still couldn’t look at a work van the same knowing just how many blow jobs Oliver and I had exchanged in the back of one.
I suddenly wondered if Oliver was remembering the same thing. When I glanced over, he looked away, and I saw the top of his ears start to tint.
That was a yes, then.
Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking about that. I needed to focus on work or how much I was supposed to be pissed at him, not about sucking him off.
“I’ll get some samples,” Oliver said, breaking the awkward silence and retreating back to the safe zone of the renovations. “I might need your help to narrow down the choices, though.”
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll try.”
I took a sip of my tea and looked at the other mugs resting on the side, knowing I should take them through to Steve and Pete. But I wanted a couple more minutes with Oliver for reasons I couldn’t explain and didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Thanks. I had one more favour to ask you,” Oliver said. “If you don’t mind?”
“Er, sure.” I had no idea what he was going to ask, but I couldn’t think of anything that I wouldn’t want to answer. As long as we didn’t have to address the sodding elephant, I’d be fine.
“You recommended me the coffee shop, but is there anywhere else I should go? Places I should try? I don’t usually come into town when I visit Mum, so I haven’t been in in ages…
” He trailed off, looking almost sheepish, like he thought it was a silly question.
And maybe it was. After all, he’d grown up in Heather Bay.
He knew where everything was, and it would have been easy for him to go and explore.
But maybe it was more of an olive branch. A way for him to test the waters between us.
Still, I hadn’t expected the next few words to fall out of my mouth.
“The Sleeping Goose. It doesn’t look like much, but it’s a nice place.
The food is good, the beer is good, and they do an epic roast dinner on Sundays,” I said.
“It’s not a gay bar or anything, but it’s the closest thing you’ll get ’round here.
Colin and Soren, the guys who run it, are married, and they don’t put up with any shit.
You should come with us for a pint on Friday. ”
Oliver stared at me like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said.
I couldn’t believe what I’d just said.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be.” I still wasn’t sure where the fuck I was going with this, but the invitation was out now, and it was too late to take it back.
What the fuck was I doing asking Oliver to pub night?
Alex was going to fucking murder me. “You can’t just sit in here with your laptop.
There’s only so much Netflix and porn you can watch. ”
“I have books too,” Oliver said with a wry grin.
“Work books or fun books?”
“Both.”
“My point still stands. Come on. Come to the pub and meet everyone. It’ll be me, Alex, Noah, Spencer, and a couple of guys you don’t know. You don’t have to stay long if you don’t want.”
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” I reached into the back pocket of my jeans for my phone. “Give me your number, and I’ll let you know what time we’re going. And if you don’t show up, I know where you live.”
Oliver chuckled. “I’d hope so considering you’re renovating the place.”
“Don’t be a twat,” I said, rolling my eyes with more fondness than I should have felt. “Just come to the fucking pub on Friday.”
“Fine, but only because I know you won’t let it drop if I don’t.”
He rattled off his number, which hadn’t changed in all this time, and that random bit of information made the deep ache in my chest hurt even more.
It was strange putting Oliver’s contact information back into my phone, and it made me think of the hours we used to spend texting each other until we’d run out of credit.
“We’re usually there about six, but sometimes it changes. I’ll let you know,” I said as I slid my phone back into my jeans. Then I gestured at the cooling mugs of tea. “Right, I better take those through and see how they’re getting on.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” That was the truth, and it scared me. It shouldn’t have been so easy to slip back into conversation with Oliver, to feel like we could pick up where we’d left off without a second thought.
We might have avoided the elephant in the room that was the discussion about our past, but I knew we wouldn’t be able to put it off forever.
Not if things like this kept happening.