Page 56 of Beyond the Hedge Maze

He refused to think for even a second that this summer would end.

Chapter 23

Oliver

Present

The room was cold when Oliver woke that morning, an October chill slipping through the drafty windows of Chapman House.

Jesse was asleep at his side, turned away from him, and Oliver was certain he’d never grow tired of looking at that view. The rest of the room was blurry, his glasses resting on the bedside table, but Jesse was close enough that he could still clearly make out the defined muscles of his back.

He thought of the great sculptors of the past; how they were able to master the grooves and contours of a man’s body. This must have been how they were able to do it. From hours and hours spent studying their lovers as they slept.

In the weeks that had passed since their trip to London, Oliver was certain he could draw Jesse’s body from memory.

Sleep the night before had been fitful. He worried that the blissful bubble he and Jesse had found themselves in was set to pop. It felt unnatural for things to be this good. The other shoe was certainly about to drop.

Each day, they tended to their daily responsibilities. Jesse cataloging and researching. Oliver maintaining the estate. But he could tell Jesse’s work was slowing down. There was less and less for him to do each day.

Oliver didn’t know what would happen when Jesse was done working at Chapman. He assumed he’d go back to London, leaving Oliver behind. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

Jesse yawned and turned to face him. He reached for Oliver, his eyes still closed. Oliver scooted closer, burrowing his face in the crook of Jesse’s neck as the other man’s arms engulfed him.

“Why is it so cold in here?” Jesse mumbled. “Summon a footman to light a fire.”

Oliver chuckled and kissed the side of Jesse’s neck. “It’s about a hundred years too late for that, love.”

Jesse’s arms tightened around him, sleep heavy in his voice. “I like when you call me that.”

Oliver’s smile fell. He wanted to do more than just call Jesse that. He wanted to tell him that he was in love with him, that he probably had been most of his life. A truth that may have laid dormant for many years, but was always there beneath the surface.

Against his better judgment, Oliver closed his eyes again as Jesse’s breath evened out. He wasn’t tired. He simply wanted to stay where he was, soothed by the steady beat of Jesse’s heart as he lay sprawled across his chest. He wanted to spend every second warm and comfortable in Jesse’s arms avoiding the rest of the world outside.

An alarm sounded from Jesse’s phone, and Jesse groaned in response. Peeling open his eyes, he kissed Oliver on the forehead and turned it off. “Okay, okay, I’m up. Good morning, cariño.”

Oliver rolled on top of Jesse, propping his head up on Jesse’s chest. “Morning. Are you ready to see Charlotte today?”

He watched as an uncertain look passed over Jesse’s face. “Yeah, it’ll be nice to have her help.”

“Why is she coming again?”

“Oh, well, I told you that I’m no good with furniture, remember? I told you the first day in the library. She’s, uh, she’s going to help with that. The furniture. Figuring it out.”

Oliver’s gaze roamed over Jesse’s face. Clearly something was bothering him, but he didn’t want to be too pushy. He knew Jesse and Charlotte weren’t on the best of terms. Maybe he was just nervous to work with her.

“Unfortunately you’ll have to greet her without me. I’ve got an appointment in the village.”

“Wait, with who? I really thought we could all talk. You know, about the furniture. Talking about…furniture…is important.”

“I’m meeting with Mr. Stillwell, my solicitor.”

Oliver knew he had put off Mr. Stillwell for too long, judging by the increased calls and texts he had been getting from his parents. When there was an uptick in communication, even if it was one-sided and unreciprocated, that usually meant they were plotting against him or the estate. The last voicemail from his mother had been particularly nasty, and it was what finally prompted him to accept Mr. Stillwell’s invitation to come by his office.

“You’re going to meet with a lawyer? Is everything okay?” Jesse asked.

“Fine. Going over a few things, nothing to worry about.”

Oliver still hadn’t revealed the full history with his parents, nor that they were the reason he needed a solicitor in the first place. Jesse was smart, and Oliver knew he had noticed the times they would text him. But there was something so humiliating in admitting that he was being bullied by his own parents. Oliver knew it was stupid to keep it from him, but he didn’t want to complain. At least they were alive. It didn’t feel right.