Jason drowned in those dark eyes, and whispered, “I don’t just like you, Owen.”
He had a boyfriend. He had a boyfriend who he made laugh. Usually unintentionally, but still! No matter how many times they slept together, he just couldn’t get enough. They clicked on every level, and Jason spent the next two days glowing.
He traipsed up and down the convenience store, every reflective surface throwing back his smile. He had everything he wanted. A partner to come home to. Someone who found his ridiculous oopsies amusing. Someone who loved him back.
They hadn’t said the words aloud, but they quivered between them regardless.
The store doors opened, bringing in a gust of autumn wind and Patricia. He’d been expecting her, but he understood that she might need to take her time.
There was a brief, awkward moment where they stared at one another, and then Jason squared his shoulders and moved to her. “I have a confession.”
“I know your confession.”
“I have another confession.”
Her face softened, amused.
He twiddled his thumbs. “It wasn’t Owen who fed you the pineapple.” He flushed hard. “I’m sorry.”
“For forgetting I’m allergic?”
“For everything.”
Patricia hauled him into a hug. “My darling boy, what you must have been going through.” She kissed his cheek. “You planning on staying a while?”
“Longer.”
She smiled. “Good. You and I, we’re going to be friends.”
Jason squeezed her back. He’d never imagined he’d have a family in his life again and here he was, in a small Australian town with two.
Over her shoulder, a new figure strolled into the store. A figure so much like his own . . .
Patricia turned. “Carl. I have a bone to pick with you.”
Carl halted, blinking them in, and looked away with a grimace. “Not sure there are any left after Pete.”
“You silly, silly boy. You should have just told him it was too soon.”
“He knows now. Um, is this a bad time, Jase?”
There was something in the way he said it that had Jason holding his breath. “What’s going on?”
“I need, ah. When I’ve settled everything here, I need to go back to Wellington. Just, um, for a bit.”
“As you or . . .”
“I might’ve gotten myself in a little bit of a situation?”
“Oh, God. We really are twins.”
“I promise I’ll fix it, I just need more time.”
Jason shook his head in disbelief. The pair of them! He sighed. “Don’t keep your secret too long, Carl.”
“Is that a yes?”
“As long as you do me a favour.”
“What’s that?”
“Organise shipping for my grand piano.”
“Shipping?”
“Your one just doesn’t cut it.”
Carl blinked.
“I’m moving in with Owen.” While Carl gaped, Jason added, “My job is far more flexible. And we both have family here.”
His brother blinked again, and then, “Does that mean you’re putting your place up for rent?”
This was not fair.
Jason scrambled out of the dog house to face Owen’s dad. “I was just cleaning it!”
“Without a cloth?”
“It’s still in there?”
“Wearing a collar?”
“Ha! This? Not a collar, it’s a . . . a . . . choker. Everyone wears them in Wellington.”
Eyebrows pinged. “What unique fashion.”
“We’re the capital of coffee and fashion.” He nodded as seriously as he could and pushed himself to his feet with as much dignity as one could muster in a dog collar.
He’d been expecting Owen, since it was past closing and he’d just been on the phone with him. Emerging from the dog house was supposed to be a wee joke. Actually, it was supposed to make up for seeing the photo his mum had brought in earlier. Tween Owen in leotards, gosh. He’d had such a laugh, but he felt a little guilty that Owen hadn’t exactly approved the gift. This way, they could both be embarrassed, and . . .
It had nothing to do with the way Owen had plucked at the buckle, the way his fingers moved under the strap, the way the leather came off his neck like a caress . . .
Definitely nothing to do with that.
Gosh . . . thin air in here today.
“I won’t stay long,” Nathan said, eyes crinkling with humour. “I’m here to invite you to dinner tomorrow night.”
Jason nodded. “Yes, we’ll be there. Will Hannah come too? We could practice what we’ll play at Pete’s wedding.”
“He still wants you at his wedding?”
“His fiancé insists after, um—”
“Your shockingly brilliant performance at the restaurant?”
“I’ll be saying sorry in sonatas for a long time. Do I . . . need to for you?”
A scoff. “No need to apologise, Jason. I already knew. I often head to Hannah’s to help in the garden. I was there the day you spoke to Carl on the phone. It . . . made sense. There was something different about you. Owen never looked at his neighbour the way he looked at you. I couldn’t understand the change, until I did.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“I’m a firm believer of people doing things on their own terms.” A glance to Jason’s collar. “Whatever those terms may be.”