Page 17 of For Fake's Sake and other stories

“I couldn’t miss out on this, Ollie. It’s too important, and as your boyfriend, I wanted to support you.” He looks at me shyly. “If you want to be my boyfriend, that is. I mean a real boyfriend who will hold my hand and kiss me when he wants to.”

“I do. I want to be your boyfriend so much.” For the first time, I press my lips to his.

When Jack told me what Ollie was going to talk about and that he would go with him because he knew it would be a nerve-racking time for him, I was shocked. “That’s not what we’ve been working on.”

“I know. He was going to keep it quiet in case he chickened out. Then he would do the one you two had practised.”

“I need to be there. I want to be there for him, with him. Do you think he’d be okay if I took your place?”

“Honestly, no, I don’t think he would be. But I don’t care what he thinks. I want you there for him. He wants you, Kit, but he doesn’t know how to tell you that. He’s never had a boyfriend, not one he really likes. He’s had a few short-lived relationships, but you might be more than that to him, and it scares him.”

So here I am, listening to the best speech I’ve ever heard, and thanks to my mother, I’ve heard a lot of them. The tension in the room is palpable. He has everyone captivated as he speaks enthusiastically about programmes that are working in schools across the country. But he also has them crying at the pain of the schoolboy who was let down. Everything inside me is chanting, “don’t let it be him, don’t let it be him.” But of course it was. He couldn’t make that up. Monty’s standing to the side of the platform, his face an ugly shade of green as if he’s about topuke. Is it from guilt or anger towards Ollie for ignoring his instructions?

Ollie looks around the room, scanning the faces of the audience until he sees me. He blinks a couple of times and announces the name of his foundation. I can’t get to him quickly enough.

He jumps into my arms, and I hold him tightly. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Ollie. You’re amazing.”

When he presses his mouth to mine, my heart beats so hard I feel like we could soar away. It’s a long kiss full of hope and love and everything.

“Can we get out of here?” he asks.

“Absolutely, let’s go.” I grab his hand, but before we can make our escape, a tall, distinguished man in his mid-forties approaches us. Ollie trembles, but he doesn’t back off.

“Mr Stansbury, my name is Henry Garvey. I’m the new head. Thank you for your speech. I’d like to talk to you more about your suggestions and foundation, but here is not the place. Can my secretary call you?”

“Yes, of course.” Ollie takes a card out of his wallet and hands it over. “Mondays are a good day for me.”

“I’ll be in touch.” He shakes Ollie’s hand and walks away.

“Where’s Jack?” Ollie asks.

“He left after your speech, said he wanted to give us time together.”

“And what sort of together time do you have planned?” He licks his bottom lip, then captures his tongue between his teeth.

“I was hoping for some more kissing. And perhaps we could do a few more things boyfriends do together. I mean, we’re way past the third-date rule.” I wink.

“You’re right. You place or mine?” His eyes are bright with excitement.

“Mine. Adam is away.”

“Perfect.”

“Yes, you are.”

Cabs are lined up outside the hotel, and we grab the first in line. I tell the driver my address. As we drive quickly through the quieter London streets, I lean back on the bench seat and look at Ollie. He’s biting his lip as if he’s not sure what to do or say next. I know him better than I’ve known any of my ex-boyfriends. He’s nervous.

“Ollie.” I take his hand, which is resting on the seat between us. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do it all tonight. I’m sorry I was such a dickhead and didn’t simply ask you out the way I wanted to. I’ve fucking missed you.”

Exhaustion is written all over Ollie’s face. He has dark rings under his eyes, and a frown mars his smooth forehead.

“I’ve never missed anyone the way I’ve missed you, Kit. I don’t know where or how to start saying sorry for pushing you away.”

I tug his hand, and he shifts on the seat. “Come here.” I pull him harder. “We have both been bloody fools. I don’t want to go over and over it, though. I want to start afresh with you. I’m not letting you go, Ollie. I’m falling way too hard for you to walk away again.”

“Yeah, me too. I have to learn to trust because you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“Excuse me, gents. I hate to interrupt your declarations, but do you want to get out now?” The cabbie turns to us, smirking, and points to the building. “I think you’re home.”

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