This book wasn’t about a sexy FBI agent, and it wasn’t about a man who loved music.
No, this book was for himself. He was writing his first romance and it felt good…right. Like it fit. He planned to use the pen name he’d created for Matt’s book, one he’d now made public.
It wasn’t often that Oliver did something that was just for him. He’d been trying to do that—hiking more, writing what he wanted, and he’d even attempted online dating. He hadn’t found anyone he liked enough to meet yet, but it was a start.
Austin had also set him up at the LGBT center where he worked so Oliver could volunteer. Oliver enjoyed helping people, being there for them. Yes, he wanted to do things for himself, but the work he did at the center was for him too. It made him feel like he was doing something important, something that mattered. He’d also looked into teaching a writing class. Things hadn’t completely unfolded there yet, but he had hopes that they would.
Oliver stared at the screen as words flew across it. He heard the faint ring of his doorbell in the background but did his best to block out the sound. He hated getting interrupted when he was in the zone—when words flew from his fingertips and settled into his chest like nothing he’d written in years, maybe ever.
The doorbell rang for the second time, fighting to interrupt his flow.
He would drive himself crazy if he didn’t just get up and answer it. He’d wonder who it was or what he missed, so Oliver hit save and made his way to the front door. When he pulled it open, a piece of paper fluttered to the ground. He caught movement from the corner of his eye, looked up and saw Matt standing in the walkway, his hands in his pockets.
“Hey…I figured you must be writing. I didn’t want to interrupt. I can come back.”
Oliver didn’t answer right away. He took a moment to take Matt in. His cheeks had filled out slightly. His eyes looked brighter. He looked…better. Happier. More like the Matt he’d known growing up. Damn, it felt good to see him like that.
“I can take a short break. Not too long, though.” Because this was important to him—working on this book. Taking time for himself. “Come in.” He stood back and waited for Matt to head his way. They hadn’t spoken at all since Matt left. Oliver had made it a point not to call Matt. If Matt wanted him, he could get ahold of Oliver, himself. And he hadn’t, until now. A hundred questions overcrowded his brain. What was he doing back? How long was he here? Why?
When Matt stepped inside, Oliver picked up the note and closed the door behind him. “There’s some coffee in the kitchen. Would you like a cup?” Oliver heard the distance in his own question. Like Matt was an old acquaintance rather than one of his closest friends. It felt strange talking to Matt that way.
“Sure. Thanks, Ollie. That’d be nice.”
The two of them walked into the kitchen. Matt followed him to the cabinet and when Oliver brought down a coffee mug, he took it. They each poured themselves a cup, doctored it and then sat at the bar.
Oliver waited. This was Matt’s show. He’d come to talk and Oliver would listen.
“I got into town yesterday. Had a good talk with my dad—just the two of us. I told him how I feel…how I’ve always felt. Learned a lot. We’re a lot alike, my dad and me.”
No shit, Oliver wanted to say, but he didn’t. The truth was, a feather could knock him off the barstool right now, he was so surprised. “Wow…that’s great, Matty. I’m happy for you. I’m proud of you.”
Matt cocked his head slightly toward Oliver and gave him that smile that could always knock Oliver on his ass. Jesus, he did something to Oliver’s insides.
“Thanks. I’m proud of me too.” He paused, took a drink of his coffee and then said, “You were right, ya know? You feel bad about what you said to me that last night, there’s not a doubt in my mind about that, but you were right and I needed to hear it.”
There wasn’t a part of Oliver that doubted that he had been right, but still…
“I could have said it in a different way. You deserved better than that.”
Matt shook his head. “I wouldn’t have heard it any other way. Hell, I don’t even know if I heard it that night, but eventually I did. That and when you told me good-bye.”
“I—” Oliver started but Matt put a hand on his leg.
“Can I go first? I need to do this, Ollie. For me and for you.”
Oliver’s pulse sped up. He wasn’t sure what to think or feel but he nodded, waiting for Matt to continue because the truth was, he needed for Matt to go first too. There was a lot of history that needed to get settled between them.