Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DAVID

Leaving my bed this morning was hands down the hardest thing I’ve done in my life. Ask me to bake two hundred custard tarts and then a four-tier cake? Easy. Getting out of bed when Joel was in it? Hard. Although not as hard as I was right the fuck now, thinking of Joel lying there in boxer shorts and a T-shirt that was crumpled up, showing the outline of his perfect ass.

Maybe it was good that I had to go to work today because had I not, I’m not sure I would have stopped myself from touching Joel like I wanted to.

Now that Joel knew I was gay and we’d kissed again, it was like my mind had found permission to think of all the possible scenarios in which I wanted Joel. On me, under me, in me, around me, fuuuck!

Yesterday when we came back from the beach, we went to my place, planning on watching a load of crap TV, eating cake, and working on the plans for our road trip. Joel had gone to his apartment to grab some sweatpants and a T-shirt while I’d been in charge of rustling up a cake.

By the time Joel had come back, the cake was nearly ready to go in the oven, so he grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the kitchen table watching me work.

“Wow, you work fast. What are you making?” he asked.

“Thanks.” I smiled. “I’m used to doing it, I guess. I’m making a chocolate-and-vanilla marble cake.”

“Can’t wait. When is it going to be ready?” Joel asked impatiently.

“We had bifanas not that long ago. How are you still hungry?”

“Who said I was hungry? It’s cake. There’s always room for cake. Besides, I need to test the quality of your baking. I hear it’s the best.”

I felt my skin warm at the compliment.

In the safety and comfort of the walls of my apartment, I was comfortable talking and even flirting with Joel. It felt good, natural, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t just because I was attracted to him. We were first and foremost friends, and the ease with which our relationship had worked when we were kids hadn’t disappeared in adulthood.

For the rest of the day, we talked, drank beer, and finally caught up with the missing years. We also ate cake, and I found out that Joel was right. For him, there was always space for cake, and the proof was in the plate of crumbs that was still sitting in the sink when I left this morning.

True to Joel’s suggestion, we weren’t alone last night. He slept in my bed right next to me, and I fell asleep fast and deep like I hadn’t in a long time. We hadn’t kissed again, but we held each other close.

I usually slept on my side, facing the door, but this morning when I woke up and opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the ceiling and then felt a weight on me, warming me like a blanket.

I’d looked down and saw Joel wrapped all around me, his head on my chest, his arm had come around my torso, trapped under me, and his legs snaked around mine. I felt his morning erection against my thigh while mine was trapped against his leg, and I’d wanted for nothing else but to pull him even closer, wake him up with kisses, and take care of our growing problem.

Needing to get up to go to work was the only thing that was stopping me from giving in.

I’d carefully disentangled myself from Joel, leaving him mumbling in his sleep—something about cake—and took care of myself with a quick shower. I left a note asking Joel to join me in the café later and left.

It was almost ten in the morning when Joel came through the café doors, looking rested and having the biggest smile on his face. It suited him, being happy. His eyes were always a little bluer when he smiled.

“Hey, bom dia , sleepyhead.” He looked around as if checking there was no one around. My heart warmed at the thought he was mindful of my secret. “It’s just me here. We had a quiet spell, so my aunt went out to run some errands. My uncle is closing, so he’ll be in at lunchtime. Have you had breakfast?” I asked.

“Yeah, I went home for a shower and had something to eat too. Although I wouldn’t say no to a fresh custard tart, and I’m not even ashamed to ask for one.” He winked.

God, this man was going to be the death of me.

“Anyway, you left me a message asking to come here.”

“Yes, thanks for coming. Are you busy today? I was hoping to recruit your help,” I said, hoping he’d say yes.

“My help? Yes, of course. What can I do?” Joel sounded excited, and that made me feel much better about asking for his help. Truth be told, I was also looking forward to spending the day with him.

I didn’t have any outstanding cake orders and no events, so my work for the day consisted of making five hundred custard tarts to freeze. I always preferred to bake them fresh each day, but there wasn’t much difference in the resulting product. This way, I could be away from the café without it having an impact on our primary product offering. With Joel’s help, I was hoping to be able to finish it all in time for us to go away tomorrow.

As soon as my aunt came back from her errands, I took Joel into the kitchen and explained what I needed help with. He wouldn’t be required to do anything very complex, but measuring ingredients and cleaning stuff as we went along was vital to the speed of the process.

We moved around with ease as we did our respective tasks, occasionally touching a hand or an arm while reaching out for something and smiling at each other. I felt relaxed and happy despite the heavy workload.

My aunt came into the kitchen to grab something just as a new song played on the radio, so in one stealthy move, I caught her and made her dance with me.

“David! Put me down,” she said with a shriek. “What’s come down with you?” She put her hand on my forehead as soon as I stopped twirling her around. Joel was leaning against the worktop, laughing at us.

“Nothing, aunt, just happy to go on holiday tomorrow. It’s been a while since I’ve been away, and I’m in a good mood, I guess,” I said, giving her a big kiss on her cheek.

“I’d give you a holiday every day to see you this happy.” She put her hands on my chest and looked up at me as though seeing me for the first time in a long time. “You boys have fun on your holiday, and don’t you worry about the café, okay? I’ve got it covered here.” She gave me one last hug before returning to the front of the café.

We went back to work in silence for a while with only the noise of the radio in the background. The result of our work was all over the kitchen. There were bags of flour, sugar, cartons of eggs, and a variety of other ingredients on one end of the kitchen. On the other end, the trays with custard tarts ready to go in the freezer were piling up high.

Around two o’clock, we took a break. My arms needed as much rest as the pastry dough I put in the fridge. While I was there, I also took out what I needed to make us some sandwiches and asked Joel to get us a couple of sodas from the chillers out front.

We were eating our lunch and discussing the route we would take tomorrow when my uncle walked into the kitchen. He looked at us, and I felt my back go rigid at the look on his face.

“Good afternoon,” he said, greeting us, but I could hear the strain in his voice. He was trying not to show his disapproval at Joel’s presence in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Joel stood up to greet my uncle by offering his hand to shake. “Olá, Mário. I came to help David while he’s making the custard tarts. I’m not a baker, but I have mastered the scales and the art of cleaning.” I could see Joel was trying to deflect the situation by injecting some humor, but I knew it wouldn’t wash with my uncle. He just nodded, and without shaking Joel's hand, he went out front to start his shift.

“I’m sorry.” Suddenly I lost my appetite, so I got up to carry on with the work. The earlier I finished it, the earlier I could go home and away from my uncle.

“Hey,” Joel said, getting up to follow me, “I get it. It’s fine. Look, he’s a jerk, but he can’t deny we’re here doing hard work, so let's ignore him.” He grabbed the scales to start measuring the ingredients for my next batch of custard. “Just think, this time tomorrow we’ll be exploring évora.”

Joel was right. Living on the coast was great, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Let’s face it. I got to run on the beach anytime I wanted. However, I had only been to the town of évora once on a school trip, and there was one place I still remembered well, the Chapel of Bones. As creepy as it was, I wanted to take Joel there.

Being further inland, évora, the capital of the south-central Alentejo, also had a different climate. The temperatures were always much higher than in the rest of the country. I could imagine Joel and me chilling out in a taverna, cold beer in hand and not a custard tart in sight. That thought was like a fire lighting up inside me, and I got a renewed rush of energy.

By around five in the afternoon, I was setting the last few trays of custard tarts in the freezer, and Joel was tidying up. I could almost taste freedom when my aunt came into the kitchen looking worried.

“What’s up, Tia ?” I asked, the concern showing in my tone.

“We have a customer that is asking for a big favor. I said we couldn’t do it, but he is desperate. I told him I couldn’t make any promises but that I would ask you.”

“They want a cake for today,” I said, already predicting that would be the urgent request.

“It’s his niece’s birthday party tomorrow. He was meant to get a cake, but he forgot. He looks so apologetic I’m almost tempted to bake the cake myself—”

“No!” I interrupted, and my aunt laughed. “I have five hundred custard tarts in the freezer. I’m not risking a fire in this kitchen. Tell him we’ll do it, but it’s one tier only, and the decoration is up to me. He only gets to choose the flavor and theme color. He can pick it up tomorrow morning.”

And with that, I started preparing the baking tins, but not before I looked at Joel, who witnessed the exchange and was staring at me like I’d grown an extra head.

“What?” I asked.

“Wow, you look hot when you’re bossy,” he said, and immediately his cheeks went red as though he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“Oh, yeah?” I walked over to him and got as close as I could get without touching him. I looked up at him with my lips so close to his I could feel his erratic breath. “Boss says you’re staying. I want this baking tin greased and floured. You’re not leaving this kitchen until we’re done.” Then I turned toward the pantry to get the ingredients. I only heard Joel whisper “Yes, Sir.”

It was closer to midnight when I finished the cake. Joel and I looked like the walking dead. I couldn’t even be bothered to do a deep clean of the kitchen like most days. It wasn’t dirty; it would have to do. Even my uncle, displeased as he was about Joel being in the kitchen with me, thanked me for all the work and told me not to worry about the cleaning. He’d do it in the morning. So I took the olive branch and left the café with Joel, my legs aching as we walked home through the quiet streets.

We were nearly there when I asked Joel if he could stay with me tonight.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I sleep better with you here. I need sleep. Please, Joel.” I was so tired my speech was slurring; I didn’t care if I had to beg.

“Okay. I’ll just grab a few things from home and will be up in a few minutes. Leave the door open for me,” he said and crossed the road toward his apartment.

I went up to my apartment, making sure to leave the door unlocked. I had a quick shower, brushed my teeth, put on a pair of boxer shorts, and got into bed. Joel still hadn’t come up by the time exhaustion overtook me, and I fell asleep.