Chapter Six
“You’re in a good mood,” Dani said the next afternoon as Alfie was—finally—closing up for the day.
“Why not?” He pulled down the shutter over the service bay door. “It’s Christmas.”
“It’s December 21st.”
“And your point is?”
“I have school tomorrow—and a math test.”
Alfie made a face as he headed over to the counter where she was cashing up for the day. Even the thought of school gave him hives—worst years of his life. “Yeah, that sucks.” He took the cash from her hands. “Go on, I’ve got this. You go study, ace your test. And, remember, we’re not open tomorrow afternoon because I’ll be helping Don and the others set up the Christmas market.”
Dani slid off her chair. “I remember.”
“You’re coming, right?”
“Sure.” She grinned. “I heard Finn Callaghan might be there.”
Alfie rolled his eyes. “Finn isn’t—”
In his pocket, his phone buzzed. But the flutter of anticipation he’d have felt before Tuesday night was muted, transformed into a flutter of anxiety. He’d messaged LLB earlier about this evening’s trip with Novak. Maybe it wasn’t necessary, since LLB was the one who didn’t want to take their friendship into the real world, but Alfie was an upfront guy, he appreciated openness in others and he wanted to be honest with LLB. So he’d told him all about Novak, and that they were running around doing stuff together tonight.
LLB: It’s sweet of you to befriend the guy. I’m sure he appreciates it. And LOL about Persuasion. GMTA?
Alfie smiled, relief easing the tension he’d been carrying all afternoon. LLB didn’t seem bothered by his new friendship. Which was great. Even if—maybe—Alfie had been hoping for a touch of jealousy.
He replied with: GMTA—Gay Minds Think Alike? ;)
“Hey, say ‘hi’ to Secret Boyfriend for me.”
Alfie looked up to find Dani pulling on her coat, eyes smiling. “Who said it’s—?”
“You’re doing the heart-eyes thing again,” she said, pulling a dreamy face.
He threw his oily rag at her. “Go study.”
With a shriek, she dodged out the door and was off. Alfie smiled and went to retrieve the rag from the floor, making short work of cleaning up. The clock on the wall said five-forty-five when he was done, so he figured he might as well head on over to Novak’s. No harm in being a little early.
One thing he hadn’t told LLB was how much he was looking forward to this evening. Silly really, because it was only a shopping trip, but last night… Hell, he could confess it inside his own head: last night, he’d been attracted to the guy. And not only because he was cute. Whether it was Novak’s shy smile, or their shared taste in literature, or that they’d finally gotten past the awkwardness of last Christmas, but Alfie had found himself intensely aware of the man all evening. Of the woodsy scent of his cologne, the warmth of his arm brushing against Alfie’s, the pretty shade of his eyes—a pastel green, he’d discovered, the color of pale sea-glass. More than that, he’d felt something click between them, like puzzle pieces slotting into place.
Whether Novak felt the same, Alfie couldn’t say, but he’d smiled and laughed and that had felt good. It had felt familiar in a way Alfie simply couldn’t explain. Whatever the reason, he was looking forward to this evening—and trying not to think too hard about why. Pulling on his coat, he locked up the shop and headed along Maplewood and around the corner to Bayside Books.
Halfway there, his phone buzzed again.
LLB: Austen’s not just for gays, you know.
Alfie smiled. Novak had said more or less the same thing last night.
Austen’s for everyone, Alfie sent back and then shoved his phone in his pocket as he approached Novak’s store. The lights were still on and he could see Novak sitting behind the counter, smiling as he studied his phone. It was a sweet smile, a little dreamy, and Alfie felt a telling contraction in his stomach.
Hell.
There were no customers inside the store, but Alfie couldn’t really say he was surprised. New Milton in the off-season was pretty dead. Alfie got by on local business, but there were only so many used books the local population could ever need and Novak wasn’t doing much to attract what little passing trade there was.
Pushing open the door, Alfie stepped into the welcome warmth of the store. “Hey,” he said, as Novak looked up from his phone.
He smiled. “You’re early.”
“If you’ve got stuff to do, I’ll just hang out.” Alfie hadn’t been inside before, which pinged his conscience; he hadn’t been inside because he’d been nursing his hurt pride like a sulky adolescent. “This is great,” he said, turning around to admire the dark wooden bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling. The whole place had an antique vibe, reminding him of something out of Diagon Alley. Not that he’d say as much aloud—Novak might not approve of books like Harry Potter. LLB did, although he said he preferred the movies, heretic that he was.
In front of the old-fashioned wooden counter stood a table piled with dozens of books, although Alfie had to admit it was difficult to see how or if they were related. In fact, as charmingly cluttered as the shop appeared, Alfie had no idea how he’d find anything. Novak probably knew how it was all organized, but as a customer Alfie felt lost.
“You need some Christmas titles on here,” he suggested, tapping the table. “You must have some Dickens. Or Agatha Christie?”
Novak’s mouth pursed. “Yes, probably.”
“Not that I’m telling you how to run your business...” The last thing he wanted was to kick off another row, not when they’d been getting along so well.
But Novak just sighed. “No, you’re right. I haven’t really…” He gestured around helplessly. “I had a partner, originally. We were going to move here together. The plan was that I’d do the buying and he’d do all the selling, but…” He trailed off, looking sad.
It pierced Alfie, that look. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He took a step closer, concerned, and put a hand on Novak’s arm. “What happened?” Beneath his fingers, he felt the shift of strong, sinewy muscle, and an inappropriate flare of desire flashed across his skin.
Novak blinked at him, his sea-glass eyes darting to Alfie’s hand and back. “I came home from work one night and found him screwing a guy on our sofa,” he said, deadpan. “So I told him to fuck off.”
“Christ,” Alfie blurted. “I thought you were going to say he’d died.”
Novak’s lips quirked in grim amusement. “He nearly did.”
Alfie barked a short laugh and dropped his hand from Novak’s arm. “You’re better off without him, man. What a shitty thing to do.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone said.” Novak’s smile faded, shoulders slumping. “The business doesn’t agree, though. I just…don’t know how to market it, I guess. I love books but I hate all the promo stuff, you know?”
Alfie nodded in mutual agreement. “Advertising’s the worst,” he said, and for a moment they simply stood there sharing their mutual woes in silence. And it felt…easy. Natural.
Which was weird.
The moment stretched, became too long, hovering on the verge of awkward. Just in time, Alfie remembered he’d had a reason for showing up early. “Here,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket, “I made you that list.”
Novak’s expression cleared, turning from despondency to delight as he took the note. “Of audiobooks?”
“I was going to do my top five.” Alfie smiled at his own overenthusiasm. “It kinda turned into my top twenty-five. These are rated on both the book and the narration, by the way. Trust me, a good book can be ruined by a crappy narration.”
“This is so kind of you.” Novak’s smile broadened, reaching his eyes as he looked up and met Alfie’s gaze. “Thank you. I’ll definitely get hold of these.” His obvious sincerity warmed Alfie right to the center of his chest—to the very part that cradled the little ember of heat he carried for LLB.
Confused, suddenly, he turned away and busied himself looking at the books on the table. “I’m ready when you are,” he said, after a moment. “You need a hand closing up?”
To his surprise, Leo took him up on the offer and between them it only took a couple of minutes to close the shop. Then they were heading out to Alfie’s truck, and off along the dark road to Commack.
They talked books on the way, Novak asking about Alfie’s list, and the fifteen or so miles passed in a flash. Alfie almost felt disappointed that the journey was over when he pulled into the parking lot of the Commack superstore, its entrance guarded on both sides by a pair of glowing inflatable Santas.
“You should take some tips,” he said as he shut the door of his truck. “These guys know how to do promo.”
Novak grimaced. “If you suggest a giant inflatable Santa outside my store, I’ll walk home.”
“Let’s see if we can’t find you something more your style.”
Across the hood of Alfie’s truck, Novak looked at him quizzically. “I thought we were here to buy stuff for the market?”
“No reason we can’t do both, right?”
“I guess not.” Novak’s lips twitched into a quiet smile. “Thanks, uh, Alfie.”
It was the first time Novak had used his first name, and it gave Alfie an unexpected thrill. “No problem,” he said. “Leo.”
Their smiling eyes met and they both looked away, laughing.
Alfie’s heart flipped over like a pancake. Oh yeah, he had not imagined that zing of mutual interest. Something was happening. As improbable as it might be, something was kindling between them.
He felt a moment of concern because his feelings for LLB were so confused, but shook it off quickly. He’d deal with that later. Right now, he and Novak—Leo—had a mission to accomplish.
Still smiling, they walked together into the dazzling light of the superstore and for a moment simply stood staring at the explosion of Christmas all around them. Leo’s appalled expression was a picture.
Alfie nudged his arm, grinning. “Welcome to Whoville, Mr. Grinch.”
***
“Oh my God!” Leo stared in disbelief at the monstrosity before him. “See? It’s like a Christmas tree…but it’s actually a cactus. It’s a Christmas Cactus.”
Alfie joined him to admire the fully decorated Christmas Cactus. “I dunno,” he said, tilting his head as if deep in thought, “it’s good. But is it as good as these?” From behind his back, he produced a box of garish green decorations. “I give you—butt-plug tree ornaments.”
Leo snorted so loudly he got a startled look from a nearby mom and her toddler. “Now look,” he said, giggling helplessly—because now Alfie had said it, he couldn’t see anything else. “It’s perfectly obvious what these lovely things are. They’re…” He took the box and turned it over to read the label, then doubled over and laughed even harder. “They’re… they’re pickles. They’re Christmas Pickle ornaments, obviously.”
“Oh look,” Alfie said, innocently. “It says they’re ‘hand blown’.”
Leo lost it again. “Oh God,” he said, wiping his eyes and trying to get himself under control before he got thrown out. “Hand blown tree pickles. What kind of heathen are you not to recognize them? They’re as Christmassy as…as…”
“A cactus?”
“Right. As this five-foot Christmas Cactus.”
Alfie nodded seriously. “I’m not sure Dee would approve, though.”
“No,” Leo agreed. “We should go more traditional. Although this Christmas skull decoration has merit…”
Still sniggering, they continued their leisurely browse of the most outrageous Christmas decorations, eventually finding enough rope tinsel, lights, and jolly Santas, Rudolphs, and elves to cover—they hoped—twenty market stalls. Plus, Leo picked up a small tree, lights, and some tasteful Nordic-style decorations to put in the window of Bayside Books. Better late than never, he figured.
“And they’ll keep,” Alfie reminded him as they pushed their cart to the checkout. “Christmas happens every year, you know.”
“So I’ve heard.” Leo sighed. “Assuming I’m still here next Christmas.”
“What do you mean? Is business that bad?”
“Kinda,” Leo admitted, feeling his cheeks heat. “At least, that’s what my accountant says. I’m not— My ex was more into the business side of things.”
As the woman in front of them was served, Alfie started loading their items onto the conveyer belt. “If you like, I could take a look at your accounts sometime? Give you my opinion?”
“That’s…” The generosity of the offer touched him like the press of a warm hand. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You aren’t asking, I’m offering. I’ve got a head for numbers.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe you could help me out with my apostrophes some time?”
“Shit,” Leo said softly, mortified. “Look, when I said that the other day, Dee was trying to—”
“Forget it. I’m yanking your chain.” Alfie smiled, and it looked like he meant it. “I figure we both know each other better now, right?”
“Right,” Leo said. Much better than you realize.
“And the point is, if you let me take a look at your books, you can do me a favor some other time. That’s how things work around here, Leo. We all pull together.”
He considered that as they paid and bagged up their purchases. After Grayson had screwed him over, Leo had been so determined to make things work by himself he’d not wanted anyone’s help. He’d been trying to prove a point, to himself as much as to anyone else. But perhaps he’d simply been isolating himself. “That would actually be great,” he said, as he pushed the cart out of the store and into the parking lot. “If you could take a look at the books and…you know, explain it all to me properly.”
Alfie grinned. He had a charming, boyish smile. It did all sorts of crazy things to Leo’s insides. “You got it. After the holidays, okay?”
“Okay,” Leo said. “And thanks.” At which moment his stomach decided to give an embarrassing growl. “Oh God,” he said, pressing a hand to his belly. “Sorry.”
Alfie lifted an eyebrow. “Hungry? Or are you keeping some kinda alien in there?”
“Well, if I don’t show up at the market tomorrow night, get yourself a flamethrower and come find out.”
Smiling, Alfie started piling their bags into the bed of his truck. “There’s a pretty nice Vietnamese place a couple blocks from here,” he said after a moment, his back to Leo while he secured a tarp over their purchases. “If you feel like grabbing something to eat before we head back?”
Leo’s heart jumped. “I um—” His stomach growled again and he laughed. “I guess that had better be a yes, if you have time.”
And maybe over dinner he’d work up the guts to tell Alfie the truth.
Hey, Alfie, want to hear something funny…?
He cringed.
But then Alfie turned around, smiling widely, and knocked the bad feeling aside. “Then let’s get you fed,” he said. “Before whatever you’re keeping in your belly comes out looking for dinner on its own.”
***
The restaurant was nice, small but busy enough not to feel awkward, and the aromas drifting from the kitchen had Leo’s mouth watering before he’d even sat down. After they’d ordered, Alfie excused himself to the bathroom and Leo sat back, enjoying the cool Rooster Beer Alfie had recommended. A Vietnamese craft beer, apparently, and—
His phone vibrated inside his coat, which he’d hung on the back of his chair, the tell-tale tinkling text alert making him jump. Keeping one eye on the bathroom door, Leo reached for his phone.
Camaro89: So this guy I thought was a prick? Turns out he’s not. Turns out I’d created an idea of him that was all wrong. Makes me think about you and me, and how well we really know each other. Makes me wish we’d met on Tuesday and found out.
Leo stared at his phone, heart pounding. Shit. What did he say to that?
The truth, Dee’s scolding voice suggested. Tell him the truth.
But it would be weird, wouldn’t it? He’d thought it would make it easier if he and Alfie were friends, but now he was afraid the truth might ruin everything. He could lose Camaro89 and Alfie and that, he realized with a lurch, would be awful.
His fingers hesitated over his phone too long. The bathroom door opened and Alfie headed back to the table. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Leo reached for his beer as Alfie slid back into the chair opposite. He looked pensive, setting his phone carefully on the table, face down, and making a clear effort not to look at it. But it was obvious he was waiting for a reply. Leo considered slipping away to the bathroom so he could respond, but that would be too obvious. Alfie would guess, and the idea of being caught red-handed in this stupid deception was almost enough to make him spill the truth there and then.
Almost.
Instead, he said, “Everything okay?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Alfie flopped back in his chair with a sigh. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You’ll think it’s dumb.”
“I doubt it.”
Alfie gave an uncertain shrug. “You ever meet someone online?”
That was a little close to home. Uncomfortable, Leo deflected. “Like, on Grindr?”
“Ah, no.” Alfie sat up, elbows on the table. He lifted a teasing eyebrow. “Although…?”
Leo flushed. “I’ve never used Grindr,” he said. “But, uh, I’ve made friends online. Sure.”
“I’ve got this one friend.” Alfie’s humor faded. “We’ve never met in person, but it’s gotten pretty intense and I—” He broke off. “Man, it sounds lame, but I guess I had it all mapped out. I thought we were gonna meet and it was gonna be, you know, all hearts and flowers.” He shook his head, took a swallow of his beer. “Anyway, turned out he didn’t want that.”
Leo felt the blood drain from his face, a frantic pounding in his chest. “Didn’t want to meet you?”
Alfie shrugged. “He didn’t show. Told me later he wants to keep things online, and I’m cool with that. I am. I love talking to him, but…” He took another swallow of beer, and a smile crept back into his eyes, a flush into his cheeks. “It’s funny, right? You and I spent the last year basically snarling at each other, but then we had a face-to-face conversation and… Well, here we are.”
“Here we are,” Leo echoed faintly.
“It’s made me realize that this is important.”
Leo could barely work up enough moisture in his mouth to swallow. “This?”
“Meeting in person. Hanging out, laughing at dumb Christmas decorations, eating together...” He looked away, the blush deepening beneath the scruff on his jaw. “I mean, talking online is one thing, but actually being with someone… Maybe I’m shallower than I thought, huh?”
After a long pause while Leo gathered his thoughts, he said, “I don’t think it’s shallow to want to be with someone you, ah, care about. It’s natural. Chemistry is an important part of any relationship.”
“Right.” Alfie made a soft sound, spinning his phone in a circle on the table with one finger. “To be honest, I’m kind of afraid that was the problem. That he was there that night, and that he saw me and…didn’t like what he saw.”
A fist clamped around Leo’s heart, squeezing hard. “I’m sure that’s not…” Was he going to lie outright now? Because Alfie was perfectly right about what had happened. “I’m sure it was more about him than you.” He cringed. Fuck. That sounded lame.
“Yeah, that’s what he said, but I can’t help wondering…”
“Maybe he’s just a coward,” Leo blurted. “Ever think of that? Maybe he’s just a cowardly prick who…who couldn’t handle meeting the real you. Maybe he doesn’t deserve you.”
Alfie looked up with a surprised grin. “Are you sticking up for me?”
“I…” Leo could have cried, or laughed. Both. “I just don’t think you should blame yourself.” He eyed Alfie’s hand where it rested on the table next to his phone. He wanted to reach out and take it, but knew he didn’t have the right. “Maybe he’s not the man you think he is. Maybe you’re the one who’d have been disappointed if you met.”
Alfie shook his head. “I can’t imagine that.”
A stretched silence fell, Leo’s unspoken confession backing up behind his teeth. What if he’d been braver that night? What if he’d just gone in and set his copy of Persuasion on top of Alfie’s, where would they be right now?
“One Phở gà,” the waitress said, arriving with two enormous bowls of noodles. “And one Phở Tài?”
It was a timely interruption, and they busied themselves for the next few minutes slurping down flavorful broth and noodles. Alfie looked up, pulling a silly face as he sucked noodles spaghetti-style into his mouth. “Remind me never to bring anyone here on a date,” he said, laughing as he reached for a napkin to wipe his chin.
Leo laughed too, although he felt unreasonably flattened by the idea that this wasn’t a date. Not that it was, it’s just that it had developed something of a date-like feel and he— he’d liked that.
God help him, he’d like the idea of being on a date with Alfie Carter.
They chatted about this-and-that while they ate, Alfie filling him in on New Milton’s big romance between Finn Callaghan, actor, and a guy who’d taught up at the local school. Rumor had it a wedding was in the offing, and that it might be held in town next summer. “That’ll be good for business,” Alfie said with a smile. “Callaghan has a ton of fans. They’d all show up to get a glimpse, I bet. Stock vampire books—that’s what his show’s about.”
But even as they talked, Leo saw the way Alfie glanced at his phone. And, oh, how well he knew the feeling of waiting for a reply to a message—especially a heartfelt message like the one Alfie had just sent. By the time they’d both finished eating and were settling up, Leo couldn’t take the preoccupied look in Alfie’s eyes any longer.
“Just gonna hit the bathroom,” he said as they headed for the door. “I’ll meet you at the truck.”
Inside the restroom, he pulled out his phone and studied Alfie’s message again.
So this guy I thought was a prick? Turns out he’s not. Turns out I’d created an idea of him that was all wrong. Makes me think about you and me, and how well we really know each other. Makes me wish we’d met on Tuesday and found out.
The problem was, how to separate his conversation with Camaro89 from his conversation with Alfie? He was afraid of giving himself away, but he couldn’t let it hang like this.
Heart pounding, he wrote: I think you’re right. It’s inevitable we created ideas of each other that are different from reality. And maybe we should meet, but it can’t be yet. I’m sorry, but it can’t.
Switching off his phone, afraid a text alert would betray him if Alfie replied, he headed out to the truck. Alfie’s face was blue-lit by his screen as he leaned against his cab, and Leo’s heart stumbled at the sight of his pensive expression.
“Hey,” he said as he drew nearer. “Ready?”
Shaking himself, Alfie nodded and pocketed his phone. They rode back in silence, Alfie clearly distracted by his thoughts and Leo not daring to ask about them; it felt wrong when Leo was playing both sides of the conversation.
As they drove, a few snowflakes drifted in the air, sticking to the dry windscreen. The forecast was for snow over the weekend, but it should hold off until after tomorrow night. Leo hoped so; he found he was looking forward to the Christmas market. And to spending more time with Alfie.
When they pulled up in front of Leo’s store, Alfie killed the engine and paused for a moment, sitting behind the steering wheel and gazing out at the falling snow. It would be a good moment to tell him the truth, Leo realized. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “Alfie—”
“Sorry.” He startled back to himself with a rueful smile. “Sorry, I was miles away.” Without looking at Leo, he opened the door and jumped down before Leo could say anything else.
And Leo didn’t stop him, coward that he was.
Blowing out a breath, he got out more slowly and slammed the door behind him. Alfie was already digging out a bag from under the tarp at the back, and turned with a smile to hand it over. “There you go. That’s the stuff for your store.”
“Thanks.” Leo was acutely aware of the warm brush of Alfie’s fingers as he took the bag from him, of the way their eyes caught and held.
And then they were simply standing on the dark street, looking at each other. Alfie’s expression was unreadable, but his gaze flickered between Leo’s eyes and mouth, his breath misting in the cold air. Tension flowed between them, heavy and unacknowledged like the insistent pull of gravity, but the only thing that moved was the falling snow.
I want to kiss him, Leo realized. I don’t dare.
In the distance, a car door slammed. Leo jumped, Alfie laughed, and the tension broke. “Well,” Alfie said. “I guess I should get going,”
“Yes.” Leo fumbled his keys out of his pocket. “Ah, thanks for letting me tag along tonight.”
“Anytime. It was fun.” Alfie cleared his throat, taking a step backward. “I had fun tonight.”
Leo risked another quick glance. “Yeah. Me too.”
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. You can set up your stall from three. I could—” He hesitated. “If you need a hand, I’d be happy to haul some books up to the market.”
Leo quashed his habitual insistence that he could manage alone. “Thank you,” he said. “I’d appreciate that.”
Another smile, another silence stretching too long. And then Alfie gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Okay then,” he said, and headed back to his truck. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Leo.”
“Night, Alfie,” he said, and lingered in the street until well after the truck’s tail lights had disappeared around the corner.