“Well, I do. Sometimes.” Avery laughed self-consciously. “But no. The tournament’s in South Korea this year, so the time is weird. It’s totally worth it, though! How’s it going here?”
“Good!” He forced a cheery expression. “Bit quiet, but they don’t know about my new product line.”
Avery’s eyes widened. “So you’re going to do it?”
“Just working out a few recipe tweaks.” Like how to make the energy balls ball-shaped and how to make the cookies more chewable than cinderblocks.
Avery clapped his hands as he did a happy dance on the spot. “That’s amazing. You’re totally going to let me help you with the pricing and the financials, right?”
“Absolutely.” Oliver was pushing the optimism so hard, his face felt like it might crack.
Avery gave him another happy hop. The enthusiasm radiating off him was contagious.
Oliver could still succeed.
But when the market wrapped up for the day, Oliver found himself staring down the barrel of twenty-four hours at home alone. He’d made plans to have brunch with Seb and Martin the following day, but didn’t want to tread on their hospitality more than that.
Oliver didn’t know why being at loose ends bothered him. He had work to do—in particular he promised the market board a progress report, but so far his progress had all been backwards—and he’d spent plenty of weekends on his own since coming to Seacroft.
But that had been before Nick.
By six o’clock, he gave it up for a hopeless cause. Nick was stuck at home all weekend, and Oliver wanted to see him, so he’d have to go there.
He shouldn’t go empty-handed, though.
By seven o’clock, he pulled the SUV into the driveway behind PRTYGRL. He had a pizza and six-packs of beer and soda on the passenger seat. Showing up like this was presumptuous, but a food-based peace offering had to help and, worst case scenario, they ate the pizza, and Oliver went home.
Nick’s eyes widened when he opened the door.
“Hi!”
“Hi.”
“What are—” He glanced over his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
Uncertainty gripped at Oliver’s heart, but he was here; he might as well bluff his way through it. He lifted the pizza and drinks. “I brought dinner. I hope that’s okay.” Behind Nick, Oliver caught a glimpse of a small messy kitchen, but no sign of anyone else.
Nick’s frown broke into a grin, and the tension in Oliver’s shoulders relaxed.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s great! We were just debating what to have for dinner.” He pulled the door wider, and Oliver stepped inside. He leaned in to kiss Nick, but paused when Nick made a soft, strangled noise. Embarrassed, he stepped back again.
“Sorry. That was a bad idea. I . . .” He dropped his voice even lower. “I wanted to see you.”
Nick studied him, then exhaled slowly. When he spoke, he was just as quiet. “It’s fine. I’m glad to see you too. I—” Another check over his shoulder. “Hayden’s charging and it’s not always his finest time of day.” He squeezed Oliver’s shoulder, the touch making him relax even more. “But come on in! Hayden!”
“What?” The question came from another room, farther back in the house, and rang with adolescent boredom.
“Dinner’s here!” He grabbed a few plates from the cupboard, then led Oliver down a narrow hall.
Hayden was in the living room, sprawled on an old green and beige couch. He looked exactly like the weekend before, except for the wire trailing from the heavy black device strapped around his ankle to the floor and behind the leg of the couch. When Hayden’s eyes met Oliver’s, Hayden straightened and pulled down the cuff of his sweat pants to cover the bracelet.
“Who are you?” He had dark eyes like Nick’s.
“This is my friend, Oliver.” He hesitated for the smallest moment before he saidfriend.
Oliver grinned. “Hey there! We met at the market.”
Hayden’s expression didn’t show any recognition.
