Shay laughed. “Busted. If we’re counting all that then I have at least twenty, and, um, six woodwind instruments, fifteen drums, and an electric piano.”
“Your neighbours must love you.”
“Put it this way, they’re glad I’m away a lot. What are your neighbours like?”
“No idea.” Ollie peered over Shay’s shoulder, the spicy scent of his shampoo invading Shay’s senses. “I live in a tower block of new-build flats. No one knows anyone.”
“That’s sad.”
“Not when you grow up in neighbourhoods where everyone knew if you pissed sideways. I like the anonymity.”
“Why?”
Ollie shrugged. “I like my own space?”
The questioning lilt gave him away. Shay trailed a finger over the back of Ollie’s hand, then turned back to the laptop screen. “Do you like Tom Hardy? Can we look in his folder?”
After a beat, Ollie snorted. “Doesn’t the fact that he has his own folder give me away?”
As much as anything ever does. Shay opened the file and pointed at the film topping the list. “I haven’t seenLegend.”
“Easily fixed.”
Ollie cued up the film and slid the laptop closer to Shay. He started to stand up, but Shay caught his hand. “Watch it with me.”
“Here?” Ollie glanced pointedly at Shay’s bed.
“Yeah. I mean, we can go to the lounge if you want, but it’s full of beer cans and crisp packets. I’d have to clean it before we sat down.”
“Don’t like mess, eh?”
“Not if I have to sit in it. It makes my brain too crowded.”
Ollie’s expression flickered. He withdrew his hand but didn’t move away.
Shay shuffled even closer to the window, leaving more than enough room for Ollie to sit beside him. After a brief standoff, Ollie seemed to give in. He sighed and sat down, and the restricted space on the bunk meant he had to sitright nextto Shay, their thighs and shoulders pressed together. It was awkward and perfect, and Shay hardly dared breathe.
The opening credits of the film filled the laptop screen. The MacBook was the newest model, and the picture was so crisp and clear Shay was instantly sucked in, but the magic of Ollie beside him didn’t fade. The minutes ticked by, and the tension faded. Shay stuck his legs under the covers and wriggled down the bed. Ollie stayed on top of the thin duvet but slid to Shay’s level. They stared at each other, unblinking. Then Ollie kissed Shay, just once, lightly on the lips. A featherlight split second of wonder that was over so fast Shay wondered if he’d imagined it.
Ollie drew back and lolled his head on Shay’s shoulder. His breathing slowed, and his limbs relaxed. His characteristic edges softened.
He fell asleep.
Chapter Eleven
Ollie wokeat dawn. He was curled on his side, his face wedged between Shay’s shoulder blades, one arm slung around Shay’s waist, and the distinct absence of the pounding heart he usually woke up with.
He felt like he’d blinked and a lifetime had passed. As though he’d drunk twelve pints and come to on another planet.This can’t be real. What the fuck had he been thinking? Or perhaps that was the problem. Being around Shay seemed to stop him thinking at all.
Idiot.
It took everything Ollie had to tear himself away. The bus had a heating system, but Jumbo slept next to the controls and turned it off every night. Mornings were bitter—particularly Scottish mornings—and snuggling up with Shay was apparently the cure.
Ollie rolled onto his back and then off Shay’s bed. His socked feet hit the cool floor, and he found himself caught in Corina’s glare. She was sitting in the office, working while she watched over the sleeping bus, like Ollie had done most nights since he’d joined the tour.
In the dim light of the early morning, she looked less than impressed to see Ollie stumbling out of Shay’s bunk. “We, uh, fell asleep watching a film.”
“Of course you did.”
