Tell Me Our Story

“It’s not like you couldn’t get away if you wanted to.”

His chest rose and fell, one beat, two, three—

O’Hara started to drop his arms and Jonathan caught his wrist, stilling him. “Audacious. Sassy. Bold. Flippant. Forward.” Jonathan turned around.

O’Hara didn’t so much as rock on his heels, but he released a long breath.

“Pert. Impudent. Brazen. Presumptuous.”

Smiles twitched at his lips, and something sparkled in his eyes.

“Shrewd, sharp, cunning, quick.”

“How delightfully naughty you make me out to be!”

“Talented. Astute. Scintillating.”

Surprise flashed over his expression. As if he didn’t expect Jonathan to admit anything positive. Jonathan raised a brow. “Am I not fair?”

A stray crumb of pastry clung to O’Hara’s bottom lip and he thumbed it free. Then he pinched that smooth chin and studied O’Hara’s glittering expression. “Enthusiastic, and . . .”

“And?”

He let go. “Not without integrity.” He turned toward the fridge. “We should think about dinner.”

“It’s not even five.”

“You’re always hungry.”

O’Hara slunk with him to the fridge and leaned against the open door. “What I don’t know is which of those things you dislike.”

Jonathan looked at that deepening dimple and away again.

The door jiggled and O’Hara’s laugh jumped around him. “What is all this green stuff?”

Jonathan sighed. “It’s full of nutrients.”

O’Hara sitting on a couch grinning, a ginger kitten on his shoulder peering into the camera.

This little one goes by Gingernut but I’m secretly calling her Bastet—a very important goddess in ancient Egyptian times. Protector of crops and health—thanks to the killing of rats. Which should mean this household is safe, because I just cleaned up a mouse!

Chapter Nine

Social Challenge 4: Blinded by Love

Jonathan ate a Sunday breakfast of fruit and yoghurt quietly. Across from him, O’Hara was yawning between bites, hair mussed and clothes somewhat crumpled. The sunlight from the window lit up dust motes in the air and gave him a ridiculously sparkly filter.

Showered, with immaculate hair and freshly-pressed clothes, Jonathan returned his focus to a spoonful of apple and banana. “Did Gingernut really bring in a mouse last night?”

O’Hara laughed. “Not quite dead, either. I gave her a talking to. You know, you’d be part of these adventures if you didn’t go to bed at nine thirty.”

Jonathan lifted an eyebrow. “Look which one of us is worse for wear.”

O’Hara gaped and scowled.

“Aaanyway, I said she can hunt to her heart’s content, but that she must drag the remains someplace else or she’s likely to give the master of the house a heart attack. Then I made sure not to give her any treats, so she wouldn’t think bloody gifts were the new currency. She tried very hard to leap onto the fridge though.” O’Hara pulled down the neck of his pullover and twisted to show a long scratch on his shoulder. “Even used me as a ladder. I’ll take this opportunity to tell you, I won the fight.”

“O’Hara vs. the furball. How are you still standing?”

Soft, crackly laughter, and O’Hara leaned back in his seat. He stretched to the chair beside him and fingered a long thin scarf that had been draped over it. “You haven’t asked me yet why I brought this out.”

“You can’t handle my not asking, you’d bring it up yourself eventually.”

Another dimpling grin. “Okay, pay attention . . .”

Jonathan listened with a grimace: darkness and handholding and being at the mercy of another. Or being merciful. Or not.

Savvy’s entrance caught in the corner of Jonathan’s eye, but O’Hara wasn’t done yet; he snagged Savvy’s sleeve and sat them at the table. “Pretty please, would you do your brother and me a massive favour?”

Jonathan cleared their dishes and washed them quietly in the sink.

“Favour?”

“For today’s challenge—Blinded by Love.”

A loud snort. “Priceless.”

Jonathan glanced around.

O’Hara stared too.

Savvy coughed noisily. “And you need me to help, how?”

“We decided—”

Jonathan pinned him with a look.

“Fine, I decided one of us should be blindfolded for the morning.” O’Hara lifted the long scarf he’d found in the study, a soft silky thing that Jonathan had shelved as impractical in cold weather.

“And this has to do with love, how?”

O’Hara looped the scarf around his neck and rocked back on his chair, gaze flittering to Jonathan. “Love is built on trust.”

Jonathan set down the clean bowls with a startling thud. O’Hara hadn’t put it like that earlier.

“It’s a great idea!” Savvy said.

Jonathan closed the cupboard on the bowls, pulse beating hard.

O’Hara shot him a look. “Anyway, we’d need a third person filming.”

Savvy hummed. “Doesn’t this challenge have a one minute post limit?”

“We can use a fast-forward effect,” Jonathan said. O’Hara’s chair legs snapped to the ground and he beamed.

“Don’t get too excited.” A pause, and then Jonathan added, “We still have to decide who the unlucky one is.”

“You mean who gets to be blindfolded?”

“I’m going to end up somewhere frightful.”

O’Hara laughed, bounding off his chair. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He pulled the scarf from around his neck and flipped the edges against Jonathan’s chin. “I’d let you tie me up any day.”