“For a long time now. Only relapse when my brain explodes.”
It was Ollie’s turn to grimace. “Yeah, about that. Sorry I dropped it on you. I kind of assumed you knew… that someone would’ve told you long before I got here.”
“It would make sense.” Shay shoved his hands in his pockets. “And maybe they did. I have a habit of not listening to people when I have other shit on my mind. Like, they think I’m hearing them because I’m good at pretending, but in reality I can miss the world ending if I’m involved enough in something else.”
“Curse of the creative?”
“Not really. My mum was dying when I agreed to do this, so perhaps the world did end.”
Grief flashed in Shay’s hazel eyes. The silver ring he wore in his nose glinted in the light from a nearby streetlamp, and a ridiculous urge to comfort him swept over Ollie.Bet he’d love that after you were the one to torpedo his day right before a massive gig.
Ollie finished his smoke, stubbed it out, and flicked it into a nearby bin. He stepped closer to Shay, his hands twitching. “I really am sorry. I can speak to the producers, maybe see if we can swap to your adoptive family? They sound interesting too.”
Shay shook his head. “I already had it out with Corina. Your studio only wanted me because I was adopted… like that makes history more juicy, or some shit, I don’t fucking know. Either way, I signed the contract this morning, so it doesn’t matter now.”
“Contracts don’t mean you don’t have choices.” But it sounded hollow even to Ollie. He’d signed a contract too, and he wasn’t in a position to forfeit the fees that came with it.
Shay sighed. “It’s whatever at this point, but do you mind if we hold off starting until I talk to my dad? It feels wrong to be diving into something like this without telling him.”
“Of course.”
Ollie gave in and laid a hand on Shay’s slim shoulder. He kept it there a full second before he wimped out, reclaimed it, and turned away.
Shay caught his arm. “It won’t be long. I call him before every gig.”
His hot palm burned skin that was already fragile. Ollie stared at where they were joined, his heart thumping. Usually when someone touched him there, by accident or otherwise, nausea would spin him so hard he’d have to make his excuses and split. But something—everything—about Shay was different. His brand of heat didn’t hurt, and Ollie was mesmerised by it.
“Of course,” he said again. “Come and find me when you’re ready.”
Chapter Four
Ollie wasunhappy. Shay didn’t know how he knew, but he did. The bus was rumbling its way from Galway to Belfast, and most of its occupants were asleep, spent from an amazing gig that had run an hour over schedule.
But Shay was awake, and so was Ollie.
Shay sat up, careful not to whack his head on the low ceiling above his bed. Everyone else had the curtains pulled around their bunks, hiding everything but the sound of Jumbo not so quietly messing around with the girl he’d picked up after the show. But too wired to sleep, Shay had left his open, a decision he regretted now his gaze was fixed on Ollie hunched over a table at the front of the bus. Tense shoulders, restless hands, the bloke was bleeding discomfort, but Shay didn’t know why and didn’t rate the chances of that changing. Ollie Pietruska was a closed book, and the only reliable emotion Shay had been able to glean from him was a vague irritation.
And he still hadn’t figured out why it bothered him so much. WhyOlliebothered him so much.
He swung his legs out of his bunk and planted his feet on the unsteady aisle. Irish roads were rocky in places, and he had to hold on to the column walls to keep himself upright as he ventured towards the front of the bus.
The columns ran out just before the kitchen. Shay stumbled the last few steps to the table and crashed into the coffee maker. The noise was enough for Larry to yell out a Cuban curse, but Ollie didn’t react. Shay was practically on top of him when he finally glanced up and nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Shit!” He tugged earbuds Shay hadn’t noticed out of his ears. “You fucker.”
Shay dropped into the seat opposite. “Sorry. Thought you’d hear me coming, I made enough racket.”
Ollie stared at him as though he were a mutant. His tousled hair was wilder than Shay had seen it so far, like he’d run his hands through it over and over, and his mystical grey eyes were rimmed with red, signalling the late hour.
Shay suddenly regretted invading his space. There was work paraphernalia—Ollie’s work, at least—spread over the table, and Ollie’s fingers were wrapped tightly around a pen, a notebook open in front of him.Fuck, he’s not upset, you goon. He’s busy.
But even as the thought crossed Shay’s mind, he knew his instincts had been right the first time. He didn’t know Ollie from Adam, but something about him right now seemed… off.
Out of habit, Shay jiggled his legs around, rhythm tapping through his veins even when his body was bone tired. His knee brushed what he assumed to be Ollie’s. A jolt ran through him, and he shifted again, but this time his thigh found itself pressed against a warmth he couldn’t bring himself to abandon yet. He left his leg where it was. Ollie would move if he didn’t like it, right?
Ollie didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Illuminated by a single light in the kitchen, the table was cast in a warm glow. For a long minute, it seemed as though they’d dropped off the edge of the world together. Then Ollie cleared his throat, and the moment passed.
Shay reclaimed his leg, moving it barely a millimetre, but it felt like an inexplicable mile-wide chasm.Boy, you need to get some sleep.
