Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Owen

I t didn’t take me long to locate and mend the leak. From the state of the pipes, I suspected the whole system needed to be replaced.

The entire time I worked, I tried to come up with a reason why I needed Rory back in the kitchen with me. It was agonising knowing he was only a room away but I couldn’t chat to him.

I’d already made him uncomfortable though. Just brushing up against him under the sink had had him stiffening.

It’d had me stiffening too, but in a different way. All it had taken was his head tilting towards mine and the realisation that there was nothing between us but a few inches of air and I’d been hard as a rock.

From how Rory had scrambled out and practically fled though, the feeling wasn’t mutual. It didn’t matter if I was interested, Rory wasn’t.

What was more, I was making him uncomfortable and I hated it. My mam had drilled the importance of consent and respect into me at a young age. When I’d come out to her as bisexual, she’d reminded me that the same principle applied regardless of gender. It hadn’t been needed, but she’d given it all the same .

So, while I would’ve loved having him back in the room with me, I refrained from coming up with a reason. Instead, I focused on getting the job finished as quickly and efficiently as possible.

With everything fixed, I cleared up the mess I’d made. Rory had tried to mop up the flood with a few towels, so I used them to wipe up what he’d missed. If nothing else, I could make sure he had water and a clean space to enjoy Christmas in.

After flicking the stopcock back on and checking the water flow, I was satisfied that everything was sorted. Grabbing my toolbox, I followed the noise of the TV down the short hallway.

A small grin tugged at my lips as I took in the festive sight. A fake tree stood in the corner, covered in all sorts of ornaments. There didn’t seem to be a theme. I could see candy canes, baubles, even Disney characters, and he’d added some red and gold tinsel in an almost nineties throwback. Strangely, together it all just…worked.

It wasn’t just the tree that had been decorated. Fairy lights in the shape of gingerbread men wound around a bookcase, while candles flickered in hollowed-out ceramic houses, setting a beautiful glow around the room. There were even several Christmas gonks arranged in a corner. Rory was curled up on the sofa, a cheery red blanket covered in reindeer over his lap.

“All done.”

Rory jumped, startled. “Great!”

He got to his feet fast. Too fast. I saw what was about to happen a second before it did. The blanket that had been on his lap was tangled around his legs. As he tried to take a step, it tightened, sending Rory careening forwards.

Dropping my toolbox with a clatter, I leapt towards him with my arms outstretched, and he gave a gentle oof as I caught him. His weight threw me off balance, so I hauled him against me to steady us both. He gripped my biceps as he swayed into me, his chest pressed to mine.

“You okay?”

“Yes.” He blinked up at me, looking startled. He was fucking adorable, from his tousled curls to his full lips. “Thank you. I’m not sure why I keep making a tit of myself around you.”

Chuckling, I forced myself to let him go. “At least you weren’t holding hot coffee this time.”

“Small mercies.” He stepped back, folding his arms over his chest almost protectively. He eyed the distance between us before taking three more steps back.

“I won’t touch you,” I said gruffly, unable to stand his discomfort another second without reassuring him. “I’m sorry I did then, but I didn’t want you hurting yourself.”

Fuck, this was so embarrassing. Not only did the man I liked not want me, but I was making him uncomfortable. It was time to retreat to lick my wounds and give myself a very stern talking to.

“What?” Rory looked at me, dumbfounded. “I don’t?—”

“It’s fine,” I said quickly, picking up my toolbox. I didn’t want him trying to make me feel better, that wasn’t why I’d said it. “Everything is fixed. If you’re paying the bill, it’s on me. But if it’s on your landlord, just text me his number after Christmas.”

“Owen, wait?—”

I was already at the door, pulling it open, but the sight that greeted me had me freezing. Ironic, given what was happening outside the front door.

“Oh.” Rory’s voice drifted over my shoulder, filled with wonder. “It’s snowing.”

Indeed it was. Wales didn’t often get snow—nothing worth writing home about, anyway. This storm had been talked about for days, but none of the weather people had been able to agree on where we would see snow or how much.

The answer was, right here, and a lot , apparently.

I braced myself for the drive back down the mountain. Given how rarely we saw this weather, it was safe to say I didn’t have winter tyres on the van. Nor was it likely the road had been gritted since it wasn’t a main one. Still, I’d take it slow and steady, and hopefully get back in one piece. “I’ll be off now, before it gets any worse. ”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait it out here? There’s probably a shit-tonne of black ice everywhere now too.”

“It’s fine.” There was no way I was forcing my company on him a moment longer. “I’ll take it steady.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see Rory biting his lip, arms folded over his chest. I nodded curtly in farewell before carefully making my way to my van. I put the tools securely inside, then climbed into the front seat and turned over the engine. It made a whirring noise before shutting off with a loud clunk. From the doorstep, Rory winced.

Why hadn’t he gone inside? The man was going to catch his death.

Inhaling deeply, I tried again. Once more, the engine struggled before turning off.

The third time, nothing happened at all.

There was a gentle tapping on my window. “Um, Owen? I think you should come back inside.”

I pulled the key out with a sigh. What was the likelihood of getting RAC up a mountain on Christmas Eve during a snowstorm?

Probably as likely as you being close to Rory and not getting turned on.

Well, fuck.