18. Ozrik
Ozrik
Ididn’t know what it was about boy-next-door Gale Windrow, but he was an infection under my skin, and the more I scratched, the itchier I got.
Never mind the strange hum that ran through my veins whenever I was in his presence.
It vibrated like an electric current and grew progressively stronger the longer we were together.
If I didn’t ground myself soon, I was convinced he would short out my system.
When I discovered the Jeep on the other side of the flooded road, I was drawn to it, to him, in the same way I’d been drawn to investigate his presence at the cemetery the previous day.
It was the same pull that made me want to strike up a conversation and keep him talking the night I’d dropped him off at his house a week ago.
I felt a powerful attraction to the guy, which was odd since nothing about him seemed to stand out.
I was typically and shamefully superficial when it came to hookups.
I flocked toward men or women who were vibrant, hot as shit, and fun as hell.
Since I wasn’t out to bond or form relationships, I usually relied on superficial details when selecting bed partners.
I didn’t want permanence. I wanted a good time.
Gale was none of these things. Not vibrant, not verbose, and not even physically stunning, yet since the day in the bathroom at CineVision, I couldn’t help being drawn into his orbit.
There was something incredibly wholesome and innocent about Gale.
Vulnerable. I sensed that not many people took the time to understand him, and there seemed to be a lot more under the surface.
He felt it too. The last five minutes had proved it.
We stared at one another in the confines of the Jeep.
Gale’s discomfort was written all over his face.
He’d struggled to maintain eye contact since the day we met.
He hadn’t said much since I announced we were stuck waiting until the road was cleared and a tow truck could get through, and that silence opened a gulf.
I might have been a storm chaser to my bones, but in that moment, whatever was happening outside the windows was insignificant. Charles could stick his demands for coverage up his ass. Hopefully, the guys got enough earlier to satisfy the producer’s itch because I had other things on my mind.
Namely, Gale Windrow and his flaming cheeks and obvious embarrassment.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him and searched for clues or signs that I wasn’t imagining things. The guy was wound tighter than a spring.
Minutes ago, as I’d made a clumsy attempt to exit the Jeep by going over him, I’d accidentally landed in his lap, where his prominent erection dug into my ass. The horror on his face stopped me from drawing too much attention to it at the time.
His utter discomfort remained. Gale was a man who’d been caught out, but it was hard to feel bad when it confirmed something I’d been wondering.
I couldn’t help looking at him differently, and the burning attraction that lived under my skin had only gotten worse since my failed escape. I wasn’t sure what to do or say.
I knew nothing about Gale except that he was Olivia’s twin brother, but that didn’t mean much since I didn’t know Olivia outside a handful of YouTube videos.
“You’re twenty-six, right?”
“What? Oh, um, yes.” His voice came out reedy and thin. “T-twenty-six. Why?”
“Just curious. Making conversation since we’re stuck here for a bit.” So, he was two years older than me, yet he seemed younger. “Did you go to Elk City High School? I don’t remember you.”
“Merritt.”
“Ah.” That explained why he wasn’t familiar. “You must know Elliott. He went to Merritt.”
“Vaguely. He’s older than me.”
“Yeah. He’s married with a kid and another on the way. Can you believe that?”
“Oh.” Gale didn’t seem to know how to respond, so I kept talking.
“I don’t feel like a grown-up most days, never mind entering the family era.”
Gale said nothing, and the moment swelled until the air in the Jeep felt depleted of oxygen. Talking was my forte, but for whatever reason, the tension between us had me floundering.
“Where did you go to college? I mean, after the seminary stuff.” The way he’d abruptly shut me down the other day, I assumed that topic was off limits, but I had so many questions.
Gale seemed to consider for a long time before answering. “I got my degree at the University of Oklahoma.”
“Cool. I suppose you lived there while you studied?”
“For a time.”
“On campus?”
“No.”
The pressing urge to ask why he’d left the seminary was hard to resist. If Gale was gay, and landing on his lap seemed to confirm he was at least bi, then maybe his departure made sense, depending on the denomination.
Some religions ordain queer clergy, didn’t they?
I wasn’t sure how to ask without relying on assumptions about his orientation.
So, I angled my query elsewhere. For now. “So, why did you choose meteorolo—No. Wait. Don’t correct me. Why did you choose to study atmospheric science? See, I pay attention.”
Gale smothered a grin, and my skin tingled. I liked it when he smiled—or tried to. He was so painfully reserved that each time his lips curved, it felt like a hard-earned gift.
“I don’t know,” he said. “It was… There was an opening, so I enrolled.”
I chuckled. “Seriously? That’s kind of a weird way to make a career decision. There was a spot available, so what the heck?”
He shrugged. “It’s a long story.”
And he didn’t seem inclined to share.
I glanced out the window. Trees bent to the wind. The sky roiled and stirred. Soft thunder rolled over the plains. The rain had lessened, but it still pelted the earth relentlessly. The Jeep felt like its own private bubble, far from the rest of the world.
I wasn’t one to dance around topics. If Gale was anyone else, I would have called him on his erection. Who knew where we would be now.
Except something in his demeanor held me back. It demanded caution.
“Can I ask you something?”
Gale gripped the door handle, eyes widening. He didn’t say no, but he didn’t say yes.
I proceeded anyhow. “You say it’s a long story. Does this long story have to do with your short stint in the seminary?”
Gale didn’t speak. I didn’t think he could look more uncomfortable, but he shrank under the question.
I waited, giving him a chance to answer or tell me to fuck off.
“Y-yes, but… I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I’m a good listener.”
He shook his head.
I let it go and scrambled for another way to get the answer I was looking for. “So… Got a girlfriend?”
Gale huffed a sad sort of laugh. A disbelieving laugh, like I’d asked the most ridiculous thing in the world. “No.”
I hedged, then blurted, “Boyfriend?”
His panic-stricken gaze moved from his lap to my face, eyes bulging. “No! Why would you… No. A-absolutely not.”
“Okay. Chill.” I held up my hands. “It was a question. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Gale studied me for a long time, his cheeks rosy and telling. Eventually, he cut his gaze to his lap. A stitch appeared between his brows.
“I wouldn’t have cared.”
He said nothing.
I’d hit a nerve and wasn’t sure how to continue, having exhausted all avenues of query.
Gale was the one who broke the silence. “What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No. No boyfriend either. I’m proudly bisexual, for the record, so… yeah. I wasn’t being a jerk. It was honest curiosity.”
Gale didn’t respond, but he sat so still and was so unreactive that I couldn’t tell if he’d heard me.
This odd chemistry was not one-sided. His defensive reaction reeked of guilt and shame and a truth long buried.
It was the reaction of a person who wasn’t comfortable admitting their sexuality out loud.
Maybe he had yet to admit it to himself.
I knew all kinds of people like that. In denial.
In the closet. It had never been me, but not everyone was as rebellious and determined to ruffle feathers.
I studied Gale, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Despite my admission, he didn’t seem to want to open up and confess, so I was as much in the dark as before.
The silence between us swelled. Gale was locked up so tight, I didn’t know how to break down his walls and drag us to even ground.
“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I have a runaway mouth and tend to say what’s on my mind.”
His cheeks took on color, but he shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m not uncomfortable.”
I laughed. “Yeah, okay. Your pants are on fire, liar, liar.”
I earned another faint smile and inwardly cheered.
In time, he peeked up from under his lashes.
We stared at one another in silence as the rain drummed the Jeep’s hardtop. I wanted to tell him he was cute, but knew it would only freak him out, so I scrambled for another line of conversation.
Spotting his mud-covered camera case in the footwell, I asked, “Can I see that?”
He followed my gaze and frowned. “My camera? Why?”
“I’m bored. I’ll be careful.”
Without waiting for an answer, I snagged the strap and pulled it onto my lap.
Unzipping the case, I pulled the fancy device from within.
I didn’t know much about photography or cameras, but I examined it like I did.
It contained more dials, buttons, and knobs than I expected, and I puzzled them individually, guessing at their functions.
“Where’s the screen? How do you see the pictures you’ve taken?”
“You don’t. It’s a thirty-five-millimeter film camera. I develop them at home.”
“No shit. Is it an antique?”
Gale’s lips twitched before a smile broke through. “No.”
“Huh.” I flipped it upside down and discovered the covered section where the film went. “I didn’t know they still made them like this.”
“They do.”
I removed the lens cap and peered through the viewfinder, aiming out the rain-splattered window. “How do I work it. Everything is blurry.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’ve got nowhere to be. Talk me through it.”