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I didn’t have any more of a plan than I’d had the year before, but I knew I wasn’t leaving that building until Turner knew exactly how I felt.

Chapter Twelve

Turner at Twenty-Nine

It was a winter weekday just days after a blizzard, so the store was fairly quiet. Yet every time I sensed movement on the boardwalk, I would look up, and every time I did, I experienced this strange mixture of disappointment and relief when someone other than Dalton walked past.

I knew which day Dalton had arrived in Breakwater since I’d casually asked his brother about it, and I’d been obsessively watching the front door ever since. But the crazy snowstorm we’d had meant fewer people walking past, which is why it came as such a surprise when I wandered out of the back area to find four men chatting on the boardwalk outside the toy store door a few days later.

The wind was blowing, and through the glass I could see the tips of his hair as they fluttered, still sun kissed as always. Had he cut his hair? It seemed shorter. His cheeks were a rosy red as he smiled and shook Martin’s hand while another man about Martin’s age looked on. For his part, Dalton barely acknowledged the newcomer, looking through the window as if he were looking for something.

“Not something, you idiot,” I said to the empty store. Someone. I was standing at the door, and he hadn’t noticed me yet, but none of that stopped my heart from beating like a drum, a physical ache emanating from my chest.

He shouldn’t be looking for you. Not after the way you treated him.

Martin led the group toward the door, but I was standing right there, so I opened it for them instead, the familiar chime doing nothing to relax my nerves. Putting on my best customer service smile, I welcomed them to the store.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” I said, sounding much more like a “nearing retirement Chamber of Commerce” member than a contemporary of Dalton’s and Austin’s. I couldn’t help but lock eyes with Dalton as I said it, though the joke was meant for Martin.

“Dalton,” I said, the name catching in my throat. I covered it, or tried to at least, by adding, “Austin. Home from college, I take it?” My eyes locked with Dalton’s for two very obvious beats of my heart, which helped me realize I shouldn’t be staring at him at all. Instead, I turned to the stranger, extending my hand.

“Hi, I’m Turner. Welcome to Breakwater Toys and Gifts.”

He introduced himself, and the group made their way into the store. Martin, as he always did, eventually found his way to the train table as we made awkward small talk. I hadn’t spoken to Dalton in close to a year, so I expected that to be uncomfortable, but it seemed like maybe the awkward mood extended beyond the two of us. The only one who seemed immune to it was Martin.

“I was just asking the kids where all the hip gay guys go for New Year’s Eve,” he said without looking up from the toys he was playing with. “Aus, Dalt, where do you guys usually go?”

My eyes went wide and locked on Dalton’s. We’d spent New Year’s Eve together last year, both of us feigning illness to decline invites from Brett and Austin. Instead, we’d spent the evening snuggled up in my living room, watching the midnight fireworks that I’d helped the town organize.

Did Dalton care what my New Year’s Eve plans were this year? I’d pushed him away so thoroughly last winter break, thinking that was what I wanted, knowing that it was the right thing for him. Why would a college student with his whole life ahead of him and the whole world at his fingertips want to be tied down to some lonely former evangelical Christian whose life revolved around managing a toy store and bookstore in his hometown? I had convinced myself that Dalton had spent those few wonderful weeks with me because he could see how lonely I was. I had told him about my parents, Anita was preparing to leave for who knew how long, and my best friend was recently engaged. So we had a little Christmas fling, then I freed him from any awkward breakup by breaking up with him first.

Hopefully Dalton and Austin do have exciting plans for New Year’s Eve, I thought to myself. Maybe I could act as third wheel with Brett and Mallory, who were supposed to be in town a few days before for the holiday but kept putting it off. Maybe because of the storm, but the roads had been cleared around us for a day or two already.

“We usually just roam, Dad.” Austin laughed but then looked nervously at his dad’s friend. “And we don’t always go to queer spaces since we’re usually with our high school friends.” Austin and Randall looked at each other after he’d said that, and Dalton seemed to be toying with the card display he was standing near, avoiding eye contact with me at all costs.

Which was as it should be, I reminded myself, and yet I longed to dive into those green eyes. I realized I was looking at him and turned my attention to Martin even though his back was to me, leaning down to play with the wooden trains.

“And you give me too much credit, Marty. I am in no way a hip dance-club kind of guy.” Dalton found one of the greeting cards very interesting, and he was reading it intently. I could tell from where I stood that it was one that we had carried in the store for years. One I’m sure he was familiar with.

“I’m much more of a homebody these days.”

Martin stood and responded, “No plans, then, for New Year’s Eve, Turner?”

And so help me, I couldn’t keep from looking at Dalton as I answered, “Nah. I’ll keep the shop open for a few hours that day, but other than that …”

I hadn’t even finished, didn’t really know how I was going to finish that sentence, when Dalton spoke for the first time.

“Cool.”

Before I knew it, Austin had left the store with Randall and Martin, spouting something about needing a ride from Randall. Austin exited last and turned around to communicate … something to Dalton with his wide eyes.

Dalton and I both watched the door close, the jingling bell the only sound in the room. Dalton still held a birthday card in his hand, and I found myself staring at it, the room a little fuzzy as I wondered if I was indeed old enough that I needed to worry about the incessant beating of my heart.

I could tell that Dalton was staring at the door and the group that had just exited.

My mind flooded with everything I wanted to say. At the same time, I didn’t want to say anything. I wanted him to leave, to plan his life in Alaska or South America or wherever his research would lead him.

For my part, I’d have to figure out how to survive every winter break, every Christmas holiday when he came home. When Anita and I would be expected at his parents’ house. Hell, if Anita was even around.