Tom stretched his legs and leaned back against the couch cushions. He sighed in contentment, hands folded across his stomach.
“I don’t think I’ll need to eat for a week. That was amazing.”
“Thanks. Quick and easy, but tasty. There’s nothing like a good cheesy pizza.” Bailey stretched, well satisfied after the meal. The evening had been surprisingly relaxed, sharing some homemade pizzas and chatting while they ate. They hadn’t even bothered to sit at the small dining table, instead balancing plates on their knees as they sat around the coffee table. The conversation had flowed as freely as the beer, the lager no doubt relaxing them both and easing any tension from the evening. The last time Bailey remembered feeling so comfortable with someone on a first date was… well, never. But if he was honest with himself, there hadn’t been that many first dates, and the dates he’d had, he hadn’t exactly put himself out there. Dating felt too much like setting himself up for disappointment; much easier to keep things casual.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Bailey met Tom’s gaze, the concern evident in his warm brown eyes. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”
“Should I be worried?”
Bailey forced a smile to his face. “No, Just thinking about work tomorrow,” he lied. Just thinking how much I like spending time with you and how much it will hurt when this is over.
“Now I am worried.” Tom chuckled. “You’ve wined and dined me, but lost interest already. Instead you’d rather be thinking about work.”
Bailey straightened. “Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Relax, Bailey. I’m just pulling your leg. I know how hard it can be to switch off. I think part of me is always thinking about the coffee shop, of what needs to be done, what I need to do tomorrow, how the books are looking. It’s never-ending. So, tell me about your job.”
Bailey rolled his eyes, but at least he still had a job, June 30 having passed by without any big announcements at work. “You don’t want to hear about the call centre.”
“Sure I do.” Tom leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His face was open, his smile so genuine. “Was it something you always wanted to do?”
Bailey almost snorted his beer. “Hah! Not likely. I don’t know anyone who dreamed of growing up and becoming a customer service rep or a telemarketer.”
“You never know,” Tom said. “I’ve heard of worse jobs.”
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t me.” Bailey chuckled.
“So what did you want to be then? What was the big childhood dream?”
Bailey thought for a moment. It had been so long since he’d considered what he really wanted to do with his life. The memory of a dream he’d shared with Stuart rose unbidden. It was probably unattainable but had still been a good dream to have—something to plan for, to talk about, to look forward to, something to do together. God, Stuart had so much passion and could make Bailey believe almost anything could come true if he wanted it enough.
“Now you’re smiling. It must be good.”
“Oh, probably nothing like you’re thinking. My brother had these grand plans. He was going to break into professional football—the NRL—and I was going to become a physio. He’d earn the big bucks, and I’d keep him in tip-top shape.”
“I take it that didn’t happen?”
Bailey was conscious his smile had disappeared. He shook away the memories—you’d think he’d have come to terms with it by now. He met Tom’s eyes and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “No. My brother, Stuart…, he died.”
“Oh, Bailey, I’m so sorry.”
Tom looked devastated and Bailey rushed to reassure him. “Thanks. I’m okay. It was a few years ago now.”
“Can I ask what happened or is that too—”
“It was an accident. He was hit by a car when cycling. It was very quick. He didn’t suffer.”
“Jesus. That’s awful, such a horrible thing for you to have to go through.”
Bailey shrugged. Stuart’s death had devastated him. It had been just the beginning of everything going to shit in Bailey’s life, but he wasn’t going to go there, not on a first date, maybe never. He forced brightness into his voice. “I have a little sister. Her name’s Sarah. She’s amazing. She’s thirteen and started high school this year. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”
Tom nodded. “One of each. An older brother who lives in the UK. I only see him once a year when he and his family—he’s got a wife and two kids—come home for Christmas. And I have a sister. Anne is nineteen and on a gap year. She’s ‘finding herself.’” Tom made air quotes around the words.
Bailey laughed, his good mood returning as he listened to Tom talk about his family. “You’re not a fan of finding yourself, then?”
“Oh, no. I’m a huge fan of finding yourself. I sort of wish I’d taken the time to do a lot more of that before I launched into what I thought was my idea of the perfect career. But Anne’s concept of finding herself is taking a long overseas holiday on Mum and Dad’s dollar. I’m sure she’ll come home with no more idea of what she wants to do than before she left. At least she will have seen some of the world, I guess.”
“So you didn’t always want to run a cafe? Or you regret getting into the hospitality business?” Bailey had thought Tom seemed so passionate about Take Two—tired and overworked but loving it regardless. At least that’s how it appeared when he observed Tom interacting with his customers.
Tom’s leaned forward, forearms on his thighs as he answered. “I love what I do now. It’s what I did before opening the cafe that I regret. Too many wasted years.” Tom’s eyes clouded before he blinked and smiled. “What about you? Did you try to become a physiotherapist?”
Bailey shook his head. It was something he was never going to achieve. “I couldn’t afford it. Plus the more I thought about it, physio was more Stuart’s dream than mine.”
“What did you want to do?”
“I liked the idea of teaching.” Shame no one else shared my dream. He pushed aside those thoughts. It was a long time ago now.
“It’s not too late. You could try going to university now or a bit later as a mature age student.”
“Maybe.” There’s no way that will happen. Would I even want to go back to studying? To be a teacher?
Tom held his gaze again with those big brown eyes. He spoke with so much sincerity. “It’s not too late to do anything you want to do, Bailey. You should follow your heart. Don’t let a career that isn’t right for you suck you dry.”
“Voice of experience?”
“Maybe.” Tom’s word echoed Bailey’s. Maybe. Tom straightened. “Anyway, I should probably head out soon, given you’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”
Bailey laughed. “So do you. Don’t you have to open at sparrows?” He looked at his watch. “It’s only ten. How about a coffee for the road?”
Tom followed him to the kitchen and together they made coffee. They returned to the couch and conversation turned to lighter topics. Bailey was disappointed when, despite sipping slowly, he could see the bottom of his mug. He didn’t want the evening to end.
“Are you free to go to the movies this week?” Tom asked as he put down his empty mug. “I’d love to see you again.”
Bailey’s regret at being busy for the rest of the week was tempered by the thought that Tom wanted to spend time with him. He also liked that Tom was upfront about asking him out, not holding back like Bailey himself would most likely do, too afraid to put himself on the line. Tom’s approach gave Bailey the confidence to say what he was feeling.
“I’d like that, a lot. But unfortunately I can’t make it this week. Perhaps next week?”
“Oh.” Bailey could see the disappointment on Tom’s face but Tom recovered quickly. “Next week would be great.”
“I’m not trying to put you off. This is just a bad week for me. I have to work over the weekend—one of the reasons I hate working a rotating roster—and the other nights I have a commitment.”
“Oh. That’s fine.”
“I’m not making excuses, I really do have obligations.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
“Oh, there’s nothing secret about it. Not really. Remember how I was telling you about the street kids?” At Tom’s nod, Bailey continued. “I met them through a mobile library service.”
“You volunteer for a charity?”
“Not exactly. I sort of started one of my own. I kind of love reading—”
“Never would have guessed.” Tom smiled and gestured towards the overflowing bookcase. Books lined the shelves and were stacked in piles on the top, plus in high towers on the floor beside the bookshelf.
“Anyway, I wanted to do something for the kids and the older people who are living it rough. They don’t necessarily have access to books, and stories bring me so much joy….” Fuck, I probably sound like the biggest nerd.
“Hey, it’s great that you’ve found something you love to do, and amazing that you’re sharing that with others.”
Bailey’s cheeks heated at the praise. “Thanks.”
“So how does it work?”
“I collect books from people who are happy to donate. Then I take them around in my van a few nights a week. I have a few places I stop and a small group of people who stop by. I don’t like to let them down so I try to keep to a firm schedule.”
“Isn’t that dangerous, hanging out on the streets?”
Bailey shrugged. “I figure if they can live on the streets then I can put myself out there for a couple of hours.”
Tom leaned forward in his seat, arms resting on his knees, warm brown eyes locked on Bailey. “And it’s popular?”
“I’ve got a bunch of regulars who think it’s awesome, and each week there are usually a few new faces. So yeah, I’d say it’s fairly popular. It’s also growing each week.”
“Do you find it hard keeping up with the books? I mean, do people bring them back or do you have to continually find new books?”
“It ebbs and flows. Sometimes I get a good haul, at other times I need to really hunt around. It’s on the down in terms of donations at the moment but I’m sure it will pick up soon, as it always seems to get better when stocks are running low. And no, not all books are returned, but that’s expected.”
“It sounds like a lot of work.”
Bailey nodded. “Sometimes. But when I see the excitement on the faces of some of the kids, it makes it all worth it.”
“It’s a good thing you’re doing, Bailey.” Tom squeezed Bailey’s knee. “Really special.”
Warmth crept up Bailey’s throat. “Yeah, we each do our bit, I guess.”
“You’re doing more than a bit, I’d say.”
The smile on Tom’s face made Bailey’s cheeks heat further. “So, next week then? A movie? Or dinner?”
Tom sat back against the cushions, and Bailey was grateful he’d allowed him to change the topic. “Yeah, next week. Either would be great. It’s a date.”
It was nice to have a plan to catch up with Tom. It gave Bailey something to look forward to, rather than the usual week only filled with shifts on the phone, taking the books out, hanging with Ryan, and worrying about his Mum and Sarah and how he was going to pay his bills.