Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Owen

A n hour later, I was crammed onto Rory’s tiny sofa. It was so small that I was forced to lie on my side, my knees practically tucked to my chest. Several springs had made their home in my ribs, making it possibly the most uncomfortable place I’d ever slept.

Rory had offered to share his bed or for him to take the sofa. I’d said no to both. As my cute barista was learning, my stubbornness was unmatched. Once I’d put my mind to something, there was nothing anyone could do to change it.

Now though, I kind of wished I’d caved. I could be in Rory’s bed right now, snugly tucked in with the man of my dreams mere feet away.

And that right there is exactly why you’re not.

It had been a revelation to learn that, not only did I not make Rory uncomfortable, but he thought the same about me. It gave me hope. A secret and possibly quite foolish one.

Was Rory nervous around me because he had feelings for me? Or, at the very least, found me attractive?

If that was true, why hadn’t he accepted my invitation to dinner?

I lifted the blanket slightly higher, trying to will my body to stop shivering. It wasn’t Rory’s fault; he’d given me several thick blankets. The problem was the snow. It was piling up high against the house now, the icy chill finding its way in through every crack and crevice. I was willing to bet an entire month’s pay that the landlord hadn’t had the windows in this place upgraded in at least two decades. At this point, I’d be amazed if they were even double glazed.

Soft footsteps sounded on the staircase a few seconds before a rumpled Rory appeared in the doorway. He was wearing flannel pyjama bottoms and a long-sleeved sleep shirt. Arms folded over his chest, he bounced on his toes to try and ward off the cold. The whole picture he presented had my heart aching. What would it be like to tuck him into my arms and keep him warm?

“Come on,” he said simply, jerking his head towards the stairs. “I can hear your teeth chattering from upstairs. You’re going to share my bed.”

“Am not.”

Rory studied me for a second before shrugging. “Suit yourself.”

He strode across the room, snagging a blanket from the basket and dropping into the armchair. My eyes widened. Not only was it far too small for a man Rory’s height, but it looked in even worse condition than the sofa. “Umm…what are you doing?”

“Sleeping here.” He wriggled in the chair, trying to get comfy. “If you’re going to be stubborn about sharing a bed with me, I’ll sleep here. You can either go get in it and I’ll take the sofa, or we can both stay down here and be miserable.”

Game, set, and match to Rory.

I smiled despite myself. “And I thought I was stubborn.”

“I’m not stubborn, I’m practical. If you sleep down here, you’ll be practically frozen by the morning.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, getting to my feet and wincing as my muscles protested. Not a single part of my body had liked being wedged in like that. “Don’t know how I didn’t pick up on your stubborn streak. I should’ve realised you shared that trait with me when you tried to insist on paying me or continuing to walk to and from work. ”

I held out a hand, praying he’d take it. He hesitated a moment before sliding his smaller one into mine. Warmth spread from where our skin touched, igniting a fire inside me that even the snow outside couldn’t dampen.

“Again, I say practical, not stubborn.” Was it just my imagination, or did Rory sound a little breathless?

He didn’t release my hand, using it to lead me up the stairs and into his bedroom. My heart began to race in my chest, my mouth drying out.

Nothing is happening, I told myself sternly. You’re sharing a bed out of convenience. That’s all.

Rory didn’t drop my hand until we stepped into the bedroom. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” My voice came out huskier than I’d intended. “I’m not bothered by you touching me, Rory.”

Even in the dim light, I could see the blush extending all the way to the tops of his ears.

Not wanting to embarrass him, I gestured at the bed. “Do you have a particular side?”

“Um, no,” he said, almost shyly, walking around the bed to get in the other side. “I’m not used to sharing, so I kind of tend to sprawl.”

“Well, I’m a cuddler.” I slid into the bed beside him, my muscles practically weeping in joy at the soft mattress. “So sorry if you wake up with me wrapped around you.”

Rory gave an almost inaudible groan. My blood rushed south as I imagined him making that noise in a different context.

“That’s fine by me. You’ve designated yourself as my taxi driver for the foreseeable future; if you want to take payment in cuddles then go for it.” He winced. “Forget I said that. I’m not weird, I promise.”

I reached over to brush the hair out of his eyes. “I don’t think you’re weird, Rory. Cute, yes. Adorable, absolutely. But weird? That’s not a word that comes to mind when I think about you.”

“You…you think about me? ”

I swallowed hard. With snow muffling the already silent night, it was like we were the only two people in the world. It made me reckless. “More than I probably should.”

“I’m so confused,” Rory whispered.

Before I could ask him what he was confused about, he twisted suddenly onto his side, facing away from me. “Night, Owen.”

I stared at his back for a few minutes, wondering what had just happened. “Night, Rory.”

Thirty long minutes passed with neither of us getting a wink of sleep. Rory was shivering so hard the bed was shaking.

As for me? I was torn between replaying our earlier encounter to figure out what I’d done wrong and fighting to not pull Rory into my arms.

Now though, I couldn’t stand it for another second longer. Reaching across the bed, I snaked one arm around Rory and rolled him towards me. He faced me with a startled yelp that was quickly muffled by his face being buried against my chest.

I wrapped both my arms around him, making sure he was fully covered by the duvet. “Don’t freak out, it’s just for warmth. If we don’t get warmer, neither of us are going to get any sleep.”

Rory huffed, lifting his head so he could speak. “I’m not going to freak out, Owen. In case it’s escaped your notice, I’m gay. Being cuddled up to a burly, attractive man is how I fantasise about going to sleep most nights. It’s you I’m worried about.”

The hope I’d been feeling was overtaken by confusion. “Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re straight,” he said, as though it was obvious. Suddenly the whole reason behind our misunderstandings became clear. “Straight men don’t generally feel comfortable cuddling up to gay men.”

“Okay, first, talk about toxic masculinity. I’m sure a lot of straight men would have an issue with that.” I pulled back so I could see Rory’s face clearly. “Not that I’d know, because I’m not straight.”

Rory’s lips parted in shock. “What?”

“I’m not straight.” I pulled Rory closer, letting my hard bulge brush against his. “And just so we’re on the same page, I too have fantasies. Mine just involve an adorable barista.”