“Then you have very cruel parents.” She tilts her head toward the door. “Go on, I can handle this. Some have started yawning already. It won’t last long.”
He doesn’t know if Will is even out there yet, but if not, he should be soon.Unless he changed his mind. Owen doesn’t allow the thought to blossom. That kiss didn’t come out of nowhere. It felt loaded, filled with purpose.
“Thanks, Francie. I owe you one.” He grabs his backpack and quietly makes his way to the exit before anyone can speak with him. As the organizer, he should stay until the end, but as the man who is supposed to meet Will Thomas, he should leave right now.
It’s a beautiful sight seeing Will’s red truck parked in front of the library, and even more beautiful seeing Will sitting inside. Owen walks over, grabbing the strap of his backpack nervously. He opens the passenger door and climbs inside.
“I didn’t see anyone else leave,” Will says.
“I didn’t wait until the end. Francie said it was okay.”
“It was a very good event. Julie was ecstatic. She really did mean that she expects a follow-up.”
“Yeah, I got a feeling she’s not to be messed with.”
Will lowers the handbrake. “Guess you’ll need to settle on messing with me.”
Owen’s heart beats faster. He can get used to flirting with Will, but he never pictured him as the flirting kind of guy. Well, he also assumed he was straight for a while. Ever since they first met at Rodie’s, Owen’s perception of Will has been constantly challenged and eventually altered, but always in a positive way. He can’t quite shake Francie’s warning, but she also confirmed what Owen wholeheartedly believes—Will is a good man, and what is more important than that?
“How long until we reach your house?” Owen asks.
“Should be about five minutes.”
“Too long without a kiss, I’m afraid.”
Will turns to watch him in the dim light of the car. “Is that so?”
“I have a medical condition, you see. It’s quite severe.” He catches himself a second too late. How selfish of him to make such a joke to a man whose sister actuallyhasa severe medical condition?
Luckily, Will plays along. “I can’t take the risk, then. Come here.”
This time they kiss slower, and Owen loves how Will kisses with his hands and not just with his mouth. Theway he gently holds Owen’s head feels so nice.
“Are we in the clear with your medical condition?” Will asks, his mouth still close to Owen’s.
“Yes, for now, but we must hurry.”
Will begins to drive, sticking to the speed limit, but just barely. Owen wants to strike up a conversation, but he’s too nervous to speak. He holds his hands in his lap, trying to calm down, or he might say something silly or childish. He wishes to have more confidence in himself, but when it comes to intimacy with someone he likes, it doesn’t matter how Owen looks or how good he is at sucking cocks—he transforms back into the awkward kid who never dared strike a conversation with strangers.
They take a turn to the right and drive up toward a small house between the trees. When they park, the porch lights come on. There are flowers in front of the house—not many, but they look well taken care of.
“Home,” Will says, nervousness in his voice.
Owen opens his mouth to ask if Will has second thoughts, but he doesn’t want to risk hearing that he does, so he opens the door and steps into the chilly air. The town center is not far, but it might as well be miles away with how secluded Will’s house feels.
They walk to the front door, their feet making the wooden floor creak. Will unlocks the door and turns on the light inside the house. The living room is simple, with one couch and one comfy-looking armchair.There’s a large window behind the couch covered with white curtains. The kitchen is to the right, small but enough for cooking a decent meal. The bedroom must be to the left, but it’s dark now. Next to the family photos on the wall, there’s the poster Owen made for the book club. It looks very big hanging on the wall.
“It’s a simple house, but I like living here,” Will says, the nervousness in his voice still present.
Owen turns to face him. “I love simple. I’ve been called that many times.”
Will frowns. “As a compliment?”
Owen laughs. “Nah, but who cares? You have a beautiful home, and not because of my poster.” He points at the guitar hanging on the wall. “When was the last time you played?”
“Well, based on the dust I can see from here, I’d say it’s been a few months. Wasn’t really in the mood.”
“Are you maybe in the mood now?”
