Chapter Fifteen
Lane
The continuing kitchen debacle meant I spent all of Thursday morning in the office on the phone, trying not to lose my shit with the kitchen company while politely explaining how badly they’d fucked us over.
I may have exaggerated slightly since, although it was a fucking pain in the ass, we could focus on the upstairs of the cottage and get that finished while we waited for the kitchen to arrive.
It did mean Oliver would have to accelerate his decorating decisions, unless he wanted us to paint it all white then come back to it later. I got the feeling I was going to have to drag him down to Scotty’s and arm him with tester pots.
Oliver kept popping into my mind all morning, and I found myself staring at my computer screen, thinking of nothing but his smile.
It was fucking infectious, and I couldn’t seem to get enough of it.
His laughter was the same. It was like the sound burrowed deep into my chest, claiming a space there where I’d never be able to dig him out.
He’d smiled a lot last night at the pub quiz, and I was sure I’d caught him staring at me several times when he thought I wasn’t looking. It was cuter than it had any right to be.
I’d been nervous about spending time with Anders and Bastian because I had no idea what they’d think of me or what Oliver had told them.
But it had been fun. Oliver turned out to possess very specific trivia knowledge in one or two subjects, but that was about it.
His film and sports knowledge were appalling, so I’d have to find some time to educate him on the basics before next time.
He’d seemed impressed by my answers, though, and I wasn’t sure if I should tell him the reason I knew so much useless crap was because my dad liked to run office quizzes as a form of team building.
And it was amazing what random shit you picked up by just scrolling through Reddit and watching endless hours of YouTube.
We hadn’t won, but we’d placed just inside the top ten, which I considered a solid achievement.
Afterwards, Anders had bought us all a drink to celebrate, and the pair of us had had a very in-depth conversation about classic rock and guitars.
I wouldn’t have pegged Anders as a music lover, but after forty minutes of talking about the best guitar riffs of all time, I had to admit I’d been wrong.
Oliver and I had walked back to mine along the front while the moon danced across the waves of high tide. I’d had the urge to reach out and take his hand, but I hadn’t because that felt like crossing a boundary. Sex was one thing, but holding hands in public was another.
Sure, lines had been crossed over the last few days but nothing as big as that. Although giving him a gentle kiss before I left this morning might have counted against me.
I sighed and rubbed my face, realising I was staring at a spreadsheet of costs without taking anything in. The numbers were a meaningless blur, and at this rate, I wasn’t going to get anything productive done.
“I’m going for lunch,” I said to nobody in particular before locking the computer and grabbing my keys off the desk. I needed a break to clear my head and find something else to think about.
The building yard was just on the outskirts of Heather Bay, and although there were a couple of greasy spoons nearby, there was only one place I wanted to go: Novel Tea.
I knew there was a very good chance I’d run into Oliver there—in fact, part of my brain was hoping I would—but I also knew Alex was working, and I could do with him knocking some sense into me.
I felt like I was starting to wade into unknown waters with Oliver, and it should have been freaking me out more than it was.
Logically, I knew that what we were doing was fucked up. We were playing with fire, and one of us was going to get burned again. But I couldn’t seem to bring myself to care.
I spent the whole walk into town arguing with myself, but it was no use. The more I told myself that this was dangerous, the more I wanted Oliver.
It felt like I was arguing with my teenage self, and I fucking hated having to be the adult here. I just wanted to think about how sexy Oliver looked when he came and all the ways I wanted to fuck him.
That was why I needed Alex. He’d have no such qualms about telling me to stop dicking around and use my brain.
For a Thursday lunchtime, town was solidly busy. I weaved through the narrow, cobbled streets, taking all the shortcuts and cut throughs I knew by heart. I’d grown up there. Navigating these roads and lanes and tiny streets was as easy as breathing.
I knew some people thought I was weird for never moving away or even considering it, but Heather Bay was my home, and I knew I’d never find anywhere else that felt the same.
My heart would bring me back here even if I moved to the other side of the world.
I pushed open the door of Novel Tea, hearing the little bell above the door chime as I did.
The sound always made me grin because Alex hated it, but he’d been forced to give in to Spencer about it due to the result of a game of rock, paper, scissors.
Apparently, that was how they settled all their minor disagreements because it involved the least amount of bloodshed.
As I’d expected, the café was busy, and I joined the short queue at the counter, peering at the selection of sandwiches and cakes before casting my eyes around the room to see if Oliver was there.
He wasn’t, and my heart sank like a stone.
I rubbed my chest, surprised by just how extreme my reaction was.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen him that morning. And I’d see him again in a few hours.
“Lane?” Alex’s voice surprised me, and I glanced over the counter to find him looking at me with confusion.
He was wearing a fitted black t-shirt with no sunglasses in sight.
His grey eyes were softly lined, and he looked more approachable than normal, which was probably what you wanted when you ran a customer-facing business. “What are you doing here?”
“Am I not allowed to come in and buy a sandwich?” I asked, knowing I already sounded defensive.
“You are, you just don’t usually,” Alex said pointedly. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
Alex shot me a look of pure derisiveness. He knew I was lying. “What do you want?” he asked as he pointed at the sandwiches.
“Er… pesto chicken?” I looked at the cabinet again. There wasn’t a lot left already, but the pesto chicken did look fucking amazing. “And a coffee.”
“Done,” Alex said, grabbing a plate. “Go and sit over there with Noah. I’ll bring it over.” He waved at a small table not too far from the counter where I saw Noah sitting with a sandwich and a small pot of tea.
“Don’t you want me to pay?” I asked wryly as I pulled out my wallet.
“Fine, then go and sit down so I can deal with you.”
I snorted and beeped my card on the reader. “Sounds threatening. Should I be scared?”
“Don’t test me,” Alex said. “Not today.” He stuck his head around the kitchen door, and I took that as my sign to take a seat.
Noah spotted me as I approached, lowering the sandwich half he was holding and giving me a smile. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“You’re not the only one,” I said as I pulled out the chair opposite him and sank into it. I looked at Noah’s smart shirt and tie combination and the lanyard around his neck. “Lunch break?”
Noah nodded. “Yeah, I snuck out today. It’s my once a week treat for teaching my year nines just before lunch. They’re in full hormonal teenage mode, and it makes them—”
“Tiny dickheads?”
“Pretty much.” Noah chuckled softly. How he found the patience to teach science to teenagers was beyond me.
I’d have thought he’d have had enough of dealing with teenage shitheads when we were at school, considering how much he did to keep Alex and me on track, but apparently, Noah was a glutton for punishment.
Or a literal saint. “What about you? Needed a break too?”
“Yeah,” I said. “The kitchen company continues to be a fucking pain in my ass, but at least they’ve finally admitted there was a mix-up, and they shouldn’t have promised me the cabinets would be here when they hadn’t even got the material.
I’m still arguing with them about getting money back, though. ”
“Oh dear. Hopefully you can get it sorted.” Noah smiled, and I had to admire his continuous, gentle optimism.
“Here,” Alex said, appearing beside me and putting my coffee on the table before shoving a plate under my nose. Then he grabbed a spare chair from another table and pulled it up between me and Noah. “Right, what’s going on? Spill.”
“Is something else going on?” Noah asked, looking between the two of us with confusion. “Or is it just the kitchen?”
“Kitchen?” Alex asked.
“We got fucked over by a supplier,” I said. “I told you on Monday.”
Alex shook his head. “That’s not it. You wouldn’t have come here just to bitch about work shit. You save that for the pub or when we get dinner at yours.” I took a sip of my coffee, refusing to meet his eyes. “Is this about Oliver?”
“How’s he doing without a kitchen?” Noah asked. “Was he upset by the delay?”
“Focus, Noah. This isn’t about Oliver. This is about Lane.”
Noah frowned. “I think it might be the same thing.”
“No, it’s not,” Alex said. I felt his glare through the side of my head. “It’s not, is it? What the fuck did you do?”
“Nothing!” It was a blatant lie, and even I could hear it. I didn’t know why I wasn’t telling him considering I’d come here for his advice. Maybe it was because I was scared of his reaction or, more likely, scared of what he’d say.
“Don’t bloody lie to me,” Alex hissed. “I know you. You wouldn’t be here unless there was something bothering you, so fucking spill it.”
“Fine.” I looked up and met his gaze. “I like Oliver, and it’s fucking with my head.
Logically, I know we could both get hurt again, but I can’t seem to make myself care.
And now he’s also living with me because I offered him a place to stay after the kitchen fuck-up, and now he’s all I can think about.
I don’t want to go to work. I just want—”
“To stay in bed with him while you fuck each other’s brains out?” Alex asked coolly.
“Yeah, something like that.” I glanced at Noah, who looked like he was trying not to smile. “I know this is dangerous, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I feel like I’m seventeen all over again.”
Noah surprised me by speaking first. “Why is it dangerous?”
“He’s only here for the summer,” I said. “It’s going to end badly.”
“Is it?” Noah asked. “Or do you just think it is?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t have the headspace for cryptic riddles. “I just have this feeling.”
“That’s understandable,” Alex said. “After what happened, your brain is just waiting for the inevitable based on existing patterns.” He tapped his finger on the table. “But I begrudgingly have to agree with Noah here. I think you might be projecting.”
“What?” I hadn’t expected Alex to agree with Noah. I’d been waiting for him to call me out on my shit. He was the last defence I had from giving in to my feelings, which continued to swell like a tidal wave threatening to wash away everything in their path. “You don’t think I’m being…”
“A naive, irrational twat? Yeah, I do, but I can’t stop you,” Alex said.
“Look, for the past nine years we’ve watched you try to get over Oliver, and I don’t think any of it’s worked.
Not really. I’ve seen you with other people.
You’re not the same. And yeah, hook-ups are one thing—you’ve never had a problem with those—but relationships…
none of those have ever seemed the same for you. You’ve never seemed as happy.”
I couldn’t say anything to that because Alex was right. Nobody else had ever been Oliver.
“So yeah, I think it’s a fucking ridiculous idea, but I’m not going to stop you because Oliver is the only person I’ve ever met who made you happy.”
“I agree,” Noah said. “Although less on the ridiculous idea part. Maybe this is your second chance. Not many people get them, and I’d hate to see you throw it away because you’re worried about what-ifs. I don’t think the universe does third shots.”
I couldn’t believe what they were saying, but their words eased the knot in my chest, the one that was holding me back from going all in. The fear was still there, and I knew I couldn’t dismiss it because Oliver hadn’t expressed any interest in staying. But maybe I needed to give us another chance.
Because how many times was the love of my life going to fall into my lap?