Chapter Seven
Noah
“Got any plans for the weekend?” Oliver asked as we carried two trays of drinks over to the two tables in the corner of the Sleeping Goose our friends were all grouped around.
We’d managed to get the corner nearest the roaring fire that was chucking out heat and keeping the edges of the late-autumn chill away.
The pub was packed with people, and there was a loud background hum of chatter and laughter, so I had to raise my voice to make sure Oliver heard me.
“Not really,” I said. “I’m aiming for a quieter one than last weekend.”
Oliver grimaced. “How’re you feeling? Did you have a horrible hangover?”
“Much better now, but it wasn’t pleasant when I woke up on Sunday.
” We reached the table and began to hand out the drinks.
It was a bit of a squish getting all of us in the corner, but we didn’t have any other option since it was too cold and wet to sit in the garden.
That would be off the table until next April at the earliest. I didn’t mind too much, though, because this was my favourite time of year, especially because it didn’t come with a side of sunburn and sweating to death in my suit while trying to teach.
Oliver slid onto one of the benches next to his boyfriend, Lane, and I took the seat on the end next to him.
The opposite side of our table was occupied by Will and Alex, who were deep in conversation with Lane.
On Lane’s other side, Theo and Laurie were chatting to Spencer.
I felt a pull in my chest, wanting to go down and talk to him, but it felt rude abandoning Oliver just because I wanted to see Spencer again.
“I’m sorry,” Oliver said. “I feel bad. You were our guest.”
“Why? You didn’t hold me down and pour the daiquiris down my throat,” I said with a self-deprecating smile. “I should have stopped after one. I didn’t realise how strong they were.”
“Yeah, we’re not letting Laurie make the drinks again.
” Oliver shook his head and grinned. I glanced down the table at our resident goth, who was bundled up in several thick, black jumpers, his dark hair tied up in a long ponytail.
Beside him, Theo was wearing a bright pink, knitted jumper with his nails painted a similar colour.
The pair of them always made me laugh because they were such opposites to look at, and people often made the assumption that Theo was more a soft, fluffy-bunny type of person while Laurie was some sort of vampire in disguise.
And although Laurie owned and operated a funeral business, it was actually Theo who worked with the bodies.
Apparently, he found it soothing because the dead weren’t argumentative or demanding.
“What about you?” I asked. “Any big plans?”
“None whatsoever,” Oliver said. “I’m probably just going to spend it reading and ordering more books for the library. Maybe go and have a dig round the second-hand bookshop in town and see what I can find.”
“Oh, the one down on Westgate?”
“There’s one there too?” Oliver asked, his eyes lighting up like he’d just discovered the location of some lost treasure. “I was thinking about the one just off the front.”
“That one is good, but the one on Westgate often has better stuff. It gets fewer people because it’s tiny and full to the brim, so you have to sort through, but I’ve heard of people finding absolute gems.”
“Okay, I’m going there.”
“Going where?” Lane asked, turning to face Oliver.
“To the bookshop on Westgate tomorrow. Noah said I should check it out,” Oliver said. Lane looked past him and raised an eyebrow at me, but there was a fond smile playing across his lips.
“Really, Noah? Why would you tell him about that?” Lane asked.
“Honestly, I thought he already knew,” I said, reaching for my Coke and taking a sip. “I mean, he used to live here. It’s been there for years.”
Lane, Oliver, Alex, and I had all grown up in Heather Bay, but Oliver had only moved back to town recently after being away for nine years.
Still, things in Heather Bay hadn’t changed that much.
And the bookshop on Westgate was one of those places that seemed to have been there forever and would continue to linger long after everything else.
If this had been a fantasy novel, it was the sort of place that would be run by an ancient wizard with a very long beard and small glasses.
“I’d forgotten about it!” Oliver exclaimed. He grinned at Lane. “Come on, my library is barely half-full. I need more books.”
“Fine,” Lane said, leaning over to give his boyfriend a kiss. “But I’m not carrying anything.”
“Of course not. I’m taking the van.”
I smiled and took another drink of my Coke.
The pair of them were very cute together.
They always had been, even as teenagers, but there was a new depth to their relationship now.
This time round it had gained another level of understanding and emotional maturity.
Their love was deeper, and there was no question that it was going to last.
Lane had convinced Oliver to move back, and that was something none of us had expected to happen. He’d even built him a library in their cottage too—with a proper old-fashioned ladder on runners. If that wasn’t a grand gesture of love, I didn’t know what was.
Sometimes, when it was late at night and I was alone, I felt the deep gnaw of jealousy in my chest over their relationship. I would give anything to have what they had.
I’d just never managed to find anyone who cared about me as much as I cared about them. My track record with men was not particularly good.
“Sorry we’re late,” another voice said through the hubbub of chatter.
I glanced up to see two more men standing in front of the table—Anders and Bastian, who’d been introduced to us by Oliver and had easily folded themselves into our group of friends.
Anders was a fantasy author who worked with Oliver, and Bastian was his partner who’d moved to Heather Bay on a whim just for Anders in another touchingly sweet gesture of love that I tried to ignore.
I didn’t want to become that person who got jealous of my friends for having successful relationships, and I certainly didn’t want them to know I felt that way.
It was Bastian who’d spoken, and he continued as he unbuttoned his coat. “We were both working and lost track of time.”
“You’re forgiven,” Oliver said as he looked up at them before grinning at Anders. “How’s the draft going?”
“I told you he’d ask,” Anders said. “You owe me a drink.”
“Curses,” Bastian said. “I thought he’d forget.”
“He’s my editor,” Anders said dryly. “He’s never going to forget about work I owe him.”
While they were talking, I glanced down the table and realised this might be my chance to move since there was only one seat at our end and one seat next to Spencer.
And I could easily frame it as allowing them to sit together and chat.
Plus, I could always say I needed to ask Spencer a question about baking if I needed to.
Most people at the table were familiar with my dire baking exploits from previous years, so it wasn’t exactly a lie.
I grabbed my drink and went to slide off the bench. “Why don’t you two sit here?” I said when there was a momentary lull. “I’ll move down to the other end. I need to ask Spencer a question anyway.”
“Are you sure?” Anders asked. “I don’t want to dislodge you.”
“You’re absolutely fine,” I said, standing up and making sure I’d also grabbed my coat. “You stay here.”
“Thanks,” Bastian said as we carefully all sidestepped around each other, making sure we didn’t bump into anyone else.
The pub seemed to have gotten even busier since we’d arrived, and I saw Colin and Soren, the owners, both behind the bar pulling pints and serving endless mugs of their hot cider, which was sitting in a steaming cauldron behind the bar.
I walked down the table and slid into the seat next to Spencer just in time to hear Theo say, “And that is why werewolves are in the basic tier of monster fucking and no higher.”
I snorted and set my glass down. “I think I came in at the wrong moment.”
“Not really,” Theo said. “We were just talking about which monsters are fuckable and why.”
“You were talking about that,” Laurie said, giving Theo a fond smile. “I think you’ve scarred Spencer for life.”
“Nah, I’m fine,” Spencer said. “Theo makes good points.” He was so chill about the whole thing I wanted to laugh. Then again, it was the sort of conversation you were liable to get with Theo. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m good,” I said. “Better now there’s only one week left until half-term.” And better for seeing him again, but I left that unsaid. I needed to get my crush in check before it spiralled out of control and I did something I’d regret.
“Are you still up for coming round tomorrow?” Spencer asked. “Say about three? I figured I can show you some simple icing ideas you can use next week. Do you have a piping bag?”
“No,” I said. I was surprised he’d mentioned our plans, but then again it wasn’t like they were a secret. I just hadn’t told anyone except Alex for reasons I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was because I wanted to keep Spencer all to myself, even though I knew that nobody was going to gate crash.
“Don’t worry. I can lend you one. Or if you want, you can come over on Thursday and make the cakes at mine. I can give you some boxes to take them home in.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s no problem.”
“Okay,” I said. “If you’re sure. But let me know how much I owe you for the ingredients.”
“What are you making?” Theo asked. For a second, I’d forgotten he was there, but now I realised he and Laurie were looking between Spencer and me.
“It’s my department’s turn to do the staff bake-off next Friday,” I said. “Spencer’s teaching me how to make cupcakes so I don’t come in last again.”
“My man keeps saying he’s got no baking skills, but that’s not true. The ones you made yesterday were great,” Spencer said with a grin as he clapped me on the shoulder and squeezed, sending a spark shooting through my body.
“You made cupcakes, but you didn’t bring us any?” Theo asked. “How rude.”
“I didn’t think they’d be that good.” I felt my face flush. “Usually, I burn everything, or it’s so dense you could use it to knock someone out.”
“Don’t worry,” Theo said. “I forgive you.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Laurie said, raising an eyebrow. “Anyway, you made cookies yesterday.”
“Shh, don’t say that. Now I look rude,” Theo said. “Especially because I ate most of them already.”
“You did?”
“I was bored, and they were tasty.”
I chuckled. “If I have some spare, I’ll bring you some round.”
“You’re the best,” Theo said. “What sort of cupcakes are you making?”
We ended up talking about baking for the rest of the evening with the other three sharing a variety of kitchen disaster stories and favourite flavour combinations.
Listening to Spencer talk about baking made it clear he was passionate about it, and it was lovely to see.
I still remembered the way he’d been when he’d first come back after his injury.
He’d still smiled, but it had been hollow like he was just a shell instead of a person.
But over the past few years, I’d slowly seen him come back to life. The baking had been a new addition, something he’d only started this year, but it seemed to have given him a sense of purpose again.
Even Alex had commented on how much happier his brother had seemed over the past six months.
When it was time to leave, we all wrapped up and headed out onto the street. The Sleeping Goose wasn’t far from the beach, and I saw the water in the bay rolling in the wind and foaming against the shore. The rain from earlier had steadied into a drizzle, but the wind kept sweeping it into my face.
Spencer stood next to me, and as we said goodbye, he leant down, his breath warm against my skin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And as he walked away, I touched the skin of my cheek as if I was trying to hold the warmth there for as long as possible.