Chapter 14

After many hours playing possum, hoping Grayson couldn't hear his wildly beating heart, Carl eventually drifted to sleep. And a deep one at that. It had to have been, because Carl was waking up to the feeling of warmth at his chest, around his waist, under his curled leg.

He slit his eyes open, gulped quietly, and shut them again. He was tangled around Grayson, half on top of the man like a snug blanket.

He daren't move. Daren't breathe. Or he'd...rubagainst Grayson's hip, and Grayson would rub against his inner thigh.

This wouldn't do.

He should extract himself. Somehow.

He whimpered and prayed Grayson would keep sleeping. His breathing seemed steady and even, lips parted like he was deep in a dream.

Every muscle tensed as Carl carefully lifted his arm off Grayson's stomach, and then his leg from those warm hips... He held his breath and painstakingly shifted inch by inch away until he was crawling to the end of the bed, where he slid on his jeans and indulged in burying his face in his hands and shaking his head.

Oh God. He knew what this was. Knew what was happening here. He kept trying to talk himself out of it, but the effort was futile...

He was . . . he was . . .

"What are you fretting about?" Grayson's voice behind him had Carl leaping to his feet, squealing.

Grayson swung his legs out of bed, long glorious, toned legs, and—

Carl threw up his arms and paced the room. "There's no slapping myself silly anymore. I'm screwed. I can't believe I'm..."

"You're what?"

He wagged a finger at Grayson, because really, this was All. His. Fault. "I'm your groupie!"

Grayson grabbed Carl's finger and moved it down, lips twitching. "We've long established that."

Carl's finger shot back up, warningly, and Grayson held his hands up in surrender. "For real this time. Somewhere along the line, somewhere in one of our conversations, I started looking at you with hearts in my eyes. Big sparkly ones!"

Grayson stepped forward to take hold of Carl's arms, probably to give his heartbreaker speech, and Carl was not in the mood. Enough to realise he'd fallen so far for Grayson that he might risk handing over his heart again. Not just hand it over, either. There was an overwhelming, terrifying compulsion to throw it to him. To declare this heart was his. Handle as you like!

Insanity.

Carl shook his head. But his body—wow, it was still abuzz.

"Oh my God, I'm burning for you."

When Grayson opened his lips, Carl slapped a hand over any words about to emerge. "Nope. Uh uh."

Like a gift from the heavens, the door swung open and Mr Wilson popped his head in. "You two should've called me. I'd have let you out last night."

Carl was an impolite stare, and he wagged his finger at ancient Mr Wilson too. "Also your fault."

With that, he skirted out the door, and ran away with the wind.

The idea wasto spend the day avoiding Grayson and indulging in panic. But Grayson made it particularly difficult. Every other corner, those dark eyes confronted him.

The first time, at Houghton Bay. Carl had biked there furiously, thinking an icy dip in the sea would help cool him off. No sooner had he taken off his trusty Toto when a vehicle came to a halt on the curb beside him. Recognising the ute, Carl startled, jammed his helmet back on, and—after shaking his head at the dark-haired heartbreaker behind the wheel—took off once more.

The second time, at Sage's place. He'd gone after Leo texted asking for his help with the talent show. Carl reminded him he couldn't locate the C key on the piano and Leo said Carl was there to help decide on a costume. Halfway through this costume design project, who should knock on the door pretending to drop off Leo's favourite apple cake?

Grayson extended the cake towards a grinning Leo while his gaze set over his shoulder on Carl and his gaping mouth. "Like the costume, kiddo."

"I wanted to wear another one, but Carl said it reminded him of a frightening picture he once saw."

Grayson's brows shot up, and Carl laugh-cried as he slunk out the back door and made a dashing roly-poly leap over the fence.

The third time those gently judgy eyes confronted him was an hour later, at the outcrop overlooking Wellington. Carl had collapsed onto the bench and tipped his head into the afternoon sun.

A shadow passed over his face; he opened his eyes and found Grayson's gaze boring into him from above.

"Gah! You meerkat. Popping up everywhere."

An upside-down smirk. "I think you want me to find you. Or..."

"Or?"

Grayson bowed over him and as their noses touched, he veered to Carl's ear, leaving a wake of shivers over his cheek. "You wouldn't be retracing our meet-cutes."

Carl hauled in a deep breath to deny this, but... he really had ended up at their first three meet-cutes. The Beach, where Grayson had rescued his bike. The Street Greet, where Carl had finally learned his name. The Cliff, where they'd first fallen atop one another. "Dammit."

Grayson came around the bench, laughing, and sat beside Carl. A warm presence, snug. Nerve wrecking.

They stared at the green vista of Wellington with shimmery seas in the distance, and Carl gulped. "Are you here to do your heartbreaker thing?"

"Tsk. I ate your soup, remember?"

"What does that mean?"

"It means, even if it tastes awful, I'll eat it so you never feel bad."

"You don't want me to feel bad." Carl narrowed his gaze at Grayson. "You're going to break my heart in a way I'm happy about?"

Grayson tsked again.

Lightning bolted down Carl's middle. "You mean... you like me?"

"I do."

Carl blinked hard—and shuffled right up against Grayson, nose practically in his cheek. "You find me attractive?"

Grayson tipped his head up and reluctantly sighed. "Yes."

"As in, you want to sleep with me?"

"I want that, too."

"What is going on here? My heart is trying to jump out of my chest."

"Mine feels the same."

"I thought yours was broken."

"You jumpstarted it."

Carl leapt off the bench and paced the outcrop back and forth. "Explain."

"Sit down. I'm afraid you'll tumble over the edge."

Carl plunked his baffled bum back on the bench.

Grayson scrubbed his face. "It happened. Suddenly. You opened my mind up about my mother wanting me to find happiness. You encouraged me to like again, without the guilt." He shook his head with a grimace. "You made those incredulous moaning sounds getting your toes done..."

Happened. Suddenly. Toes—"Is that why you raced off to the bus stop?"

Grayson gave him a stern look. "It was the anniversary of my mother's passing and I was..." He glanced towards his lap.

"Good call." A pause. "You suddenly liked me?"

"I tried ignoring it."

"That's why you didn't answer my texts for help with Leo's lesson."

"I wanted to shake off these... feelings, but when I overheard Poppy was going to be at Sage's dinner, that it was supposed to be some kind of blind date..." Grayson balled his fists. "I tried telling myself not to care, to leave it be."

But he couldn't. "You came to the dinner instead."

"The thought of you with Poppy..." Grayson's glare was something. So epic, Carl fucking fluttered.

"You really were the jealous suitor. I told you—I turned him down."

"I don't know how I slept at all last night. Things kept... shifting, in my chest." His Adam's apple bulged with a swallow, and dark eyes turned to Carl. His voice grew gruff. "You mumbled for me to stop tossing and turning, locked your leg around me, and flung an arm across my middle. Everything wound tight inside. So tight. I could barely breathe."

"Sounds like you're a lost cause."

"What'll you do about it, groupie?"

"I don't know." A hoppy laugh escaped Carl seeing Grayson struggle to maintain a scowl. "Get it out of our system?"

"We could try." A pause. "But I'm afraid—"

"Afraid what?"

Grayson swallowed and leapt to his feet. "Ah, I'm afraid we can't try that right now. We're due to help Sage at an escape room in twenty minutes."

"We are?"

"Leo was upset you bolted before he could ask you along."

Grayson strode towards the path. Carl followed him down the hill to his ute; the air felt taut between them, every shared look came with an electric shiver, and Carl decided it would be best to change the subject. Talk about things that didn't make his chest go haywire. Like Sage and Leo, and how Carl ought to tell Sage the truth. How she might take it. And whether Carl really had to tell her. And—"I'd rather talk about me liking you," he muttered.

Grayson laughed and ruffled his hair, and Carl liked it so much, he imagined cartoon hearts popping up all around him.

He shook his head and folded his arms in self-disgrace.

"We should stop oscillating between scowling and smiling," Grayson said.

"You seem to be smiling more than scowling." But then, he'd had longer to come to terms with this.

Grayson's gaze flickered out the window. "Here we are."

Carl couldn't jump out of the ute fast enough, and he was in the lobby in under thirty seconds.

His step stalled as he took in the room, bustling with energy and eager participants. The witches were looming over the reception desk and came away from it with tickets in hand and pointy chins tipped up in cackling laughter. Sage and Leo were tucked into a corner, beside large vintage posters and a shelf of curious brain teasing logic artifacts. Two doors came off the lobby at either end—to the left, a whimsical rainbow promised a journey to Oz; to the right, where the witches had gathered, was the obviously more popular Haunted House.

Carl had taken a look online in the ute—this Haunted escape room was a city favourite.

Grayson caught up to him and took in the volunteer team-building group; in sync, they beelined to Sage and Leo.

Before they got there, the witches—all wearing matching green scarves—slunk over. "Here are your tickets. The Haunted House is at maximum capacity so you guys will have to do the kid room."

Another witch piped in, "It fits you. Your bakery has an Oz theme. Over the Raindough." She patted Sage's shoulder in a way that had Carl gritting his teeth. "Should be easier, too."

An escape room worker in a red uniform sidled over with a wide smile. "Just because the Oz room is more colourful, doesn't mean it's lacking in depth." To Sage, she said, "Better for sure."

Carl liked this worker immediately. So did Leo, judging by his awed look at her.

The witches huffed quietly. "Shall we make a race of it? Your team and ours? We win, you give us free coffee for a month. You win, we come in and buy coffee every day for a month."

Sage held her head high and smiled brightly. "Looking forward to having you as regular customers."

The witches turned on their heels, heading for the Haunted House door. As soon as their backs turned, Sage sagged. She glanced over at Carl and Grayson, terrified.

Carl understood. He was nervous too. This was far too close to Quiz Night for his liking, but by golly, he'd do his best to beat those witches. He slicked on a confident smile and gave her a thumbs up, then leaned to Grayson and murmured, "You know how you taught me being smart wasn't attractive?"

"I recall."

"Could you be not attractive right now? For the next hour?"

"I'll be downright hideous."

"This is why I like you."

Grayson bought tickets for himself and Carl, and they hooked arms with Leo and Sage and followed a painted-on yellow brick road to The Emerald Escape.

The first room was all black and white, and dimly lit. Several boxes sat randomly on the floor. Mist pumped into the room, thickening the air, and speakers pumped out anxious music and wind sounds. Projected onto the ceiling was a large twister.

"Spooky. What do we do?" Leo asked.

Sage murmured, "Hope most of this is like spot the difference. Something that doesn't require much brains."

"But we have brains," Carl said, trying to sound upbeat. "We can decipher stuff. What's that thingy?"

Leo and Sage sighed. "We are so screwed."

"Screwed on!" Grayson said with far too much enthusiasm.

"Screwed up," Carl amended.

A hand landed on his head and rubbed fondly.

Sage jumped with renewed vigour. "Gray, you can do the hard stuff, and look, Jason. A piano. Something for you."

Carl whimpered.

"Actually," Leo said, leaping to his rescue, "can I try cracking that one? I think we have to find the sheet music and play the right keys in the right order. You'd let me practice, wouldn't you, Jason?"

Carl straightened. "Of course. The experienced should always give way for the developing. Playing under pressure will help improve your skills vastly. As they say, practice makes perfect—" At looks from Leo and Grayson, Carl choked on his inane platitudes and cleared his throat. "Carry on."

Leo scurried ahead, calling out for the rest of them to look for musical notes. They were found under, over, and in nick-nacks around the room, and once Leo had lined them up in order, he played.

With a click, the wall beside the piano opened, and the four of them crawled through a long and narrow tunnel to—

Brightness.

The next room was all colours of the rainbow. Welcome to Oz.

They gathered in the middle of the yellow brick road. It stretched across the room and disappeared into a wall mural leading to the Emerald City. Four life-size figures were planted around the room. Sage raised her hand. "I get this. The tinman and the lion and the scarecrow and Dorothy—they're in the wrong places."

They each took a figure and planted it on its correct base and waited...

Nothing happened.

Carl double checked. Dorothy first, the scarecrow who wants brains, the tinman who wants a heart, the lion who wants to be courageous. Wait, was that a smaller base beside Dorothy?

"Ohh, ohh, I got it. We're missing Toto."

"I don't see a dog anywhere," Sage said.

"I know, I know." Leo tugged his mum's sleeve. "I saw Toto in the first room. Help me get it. He was in one of the big boxes."

Two heads of straw-coloured hair ducked and disappeared into the tunnel to the first room, leaving behind Carl and Grayson and a truck-load of tension.

Grayson edged over to the tinman and fidgeted with his clock-heart, trying to straighten it to some invisibly perfect line.

Carl shouldn't find the nervous tic quite this charming. But he did. Before he knew it, he was slinking up behind Grayson, observing how his ears reddened.

Carl touched the tip of his finger to the shell of one. "How did you get that scar?"

Goosebumps lifted on the back of Grayson's neck; he clamped a palm over his nape. "Surfing. Clipped a rock."

"Pity you can't wear a helmet. Have your own trusty Toto."

Grayson glanced at him, and took in the themed walls around them. "You seriously named my helmet Toto?"

"Those first days here, I felt pretty far away from home."

"And now?" Grayson sounded like he was suppressing his curiosity. He even sucked in his lips as if to keep from prying more.

"Well, Wellington is so green, it could be the Emerald City."

Grayson turned to face Carl fully. "Does that mean you're closer to home?"

Carl swallowed.

A grey glimmer hit Grayson's eye but he quickly smiled. "I might have some silver tap shoes somewhere, if you want to click your heels—"

Carl elbowed him, chuckling. But it wasn't a chuckle of humour. It felt heavy. "Stop."

Grayson looked away from him, and his voice thickened. "You need to have your conversations." He adjusted the tinman's heart again.

"Not today." Carl leaned in and turned Grayson's chin until he faced him. "Today we have to deal with feelings."

Ka-thunk, ka-thunk, ka-crazy-thunk.

Carl croaked, "Didn't you promise?"

The half inch separating them disappeared. Warm lips pressed softly against Carl's, and Carl took a sharp intake of air. Electricity sparked. Crackled.

Carl closed his eyes and felt Grayson's soft breath trickle into his mouth and spill over his bottom lip. "Gosh," he murmured, "it might take a fair bit to get this out of my system."

A sudden smile formed around Carl's unintentional one, followed by a naughty slip of tongue...

Carl hiccupped, and laughed. He pressed his lips—

Leo and Sage crawled back into the room and within the second, they'd ripped themselves apart, Carl spinning to face the wall where he spent a good ten seconds fanning his face.

"Got the dog!"

As soon as the figurine was set in place there came a series of clicks and a drawer popped out of a wall. A map, of the Emerald City. Clues hidden around the room helped them match landmarks to points on the map, and the area where everything intercepted revealed another riddle. Together, they answered the Wicked Witch's Stumper, unlocked the next door to The Courageous Path, translated the Flying Monkey Cipher, found a pivotal clue in a miniature Poppy Field; found the Witch's Broomstick, and unlocked a large closet filled with emerald green light.

The light waned, revealing a large mirror at the back and magnetised alphabet letters scattered on the wooden floor.

"Heartfelt Reflection," Grayson read. "What's the most important thing in the world?"

"Home," Leo called. "What Dorothy wants most."

"Not so sure," Carl said. "She wants to go home to the people that love her. It's love that's most important."

"But scarecrow, lion, and tinman all end up loving her, if it was about love, wouldn't she stay?"

Grayson was still staring into the mirror, unmoving, and there was something about his gaze that had Carl shifting from foot to foot. "She might have found a new family on her adventures, and she might even love them back, but..."

Grayson snapped out, "But there's no place like home."

Sage tucked Leo under her arm. "If you find someone you love very much one day, I hope you'll also return."

"Listen to your mum," Grayson said gruffly. "If she ever asks you home, go right away."

Carl's throat tightened. He touched Grayson's sleeve quietly and dark eyes lifted to his, a struggle in their depths. "Home is most important."

He said it like he was reminding himself. Reminding Carl: he must go home too. He must not make the same mistake Grayson did.

Carl felt the swell of emotion and the need to calm it. He lifted onto his toes and whispered in Grayson's ear, "Remember what she'd most want for you."

Grayson let out a shuddered breath over his cheek. Carl made sure to look into those dark eyes until he was sure Grayson had understood. Then he rocked back on his heels, picked through the magnets, and wrote the four-letter answer on the mirror.

LOVE.

The mirror swung open, and there was the lobby.

They'd done it.

They were one step from freedom.