Page 7 of Havoc for the Holidays

The call ended and I had to clutch my stomach for how hard I was laughing. I flopped my back down on the couch and continued to chuckle off and on as five minutes became ten minutes and ten minutes became twenty minutes. I'd just about given up hope on him calling back when my cell started buzzing on my chest. Sure as shit, when I lifted the phone, his name appeared on the screen. I swiped to answer without bothering to sit up.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't peep-show Ollie. I didn't think you'd call back.”

“Oh God,” Ollie groaned. “I'm so sorry. I never… it was… she knows not to play with my texts when I let her use my phone but… she forgets sometimes.”

“She was disappointed I wasn't Nana. I didn't know she was about to burst in on you in the shower when I asked her to put you on.” I intentionally refused to apologize for the abrupt invasion of his privacy courtesy of his daughter. Truth of the matter was that I wasn't sorry at all. Despite myself, I entertained images of his damp hair and flushed skin covered in water from the shower as we talked. Sue me—I only had so much restraint.

“Yes. We had a long talk about bathroom rules. Again. It's… a work in progress.” A shaky laugh followed his words. “Was there… is everything… um, did you need something?”

“It would be apropos to ask for another peep-show, wouldn't it?”God. Reel it in, Ez.I cleared my throat as he sputtered. “I'm sorry. I actually called to see if you could recommend an accountant and perhaps inquire about that tour you offered?”

“Oh.” The phone went so silent, I checked to see if the call was still connected. When I pulled it back to my ear, I caught the tail end of a wavering sigh. “Yes. I m-might have time t-tomorrow?”

My smile spread and spread until I didn't think it could spread any further, and then it grew wider still. “If you do have time tomorrow, what time might that be?”

“Oh. Um, noon? We could meet at the… uh… coffee shop? You're familiar with it?” The sound of rustling and footsteps carried over the line. It sounded a lot like he might have been pacing.

“I am indeed. That sounds perfect.” I paused to listen to the whisper of another sigh before continuing. “I'm looking forward to it. Thank you, Oliver.”

“Yes,” he squeaked before coughing in an attempt to cover up the sound. “Me too. Tomorrow. Right. Okay, bye.”

“Goodnight, Ollie.”

“Oh. Right. Goodnight, Ezechiel.”

I hung up with a quiet sigh of my own. Suddenly, I was feeling quite optimistic about the new direction my life was taking, thanks to a certain young man with an incredibly adorable amount of awkward shyness I was looking forward to exploring. Still smiling, I hurried to shut off all the lights and head to bed. Tomorrow would come even faster if I went to sleep, and I really, really wanted it to be tomorrow. The strange blossoming warmth in my chest was foreign, but not at all unpleasant as I let my eyes close to relive the the conversation with Ollie replay in my head.

Chapter five

Ollie

Iwas a bundle of nerves all morning and I had only myself to blame for it. This wasn't a date. This wasn't even a casual gathering of friends. It was simply a tour of the town for the benefit of a newcomer. Unfortunately, my overactive imagination ran wild with all the possible reasons this was a terrible idea. Most notable among those reasons was the fact that I was more than a little attracted to Ezechiel. Sure, I'd felt attraction to all sorts of men and women over the years, but this was a whole different can of worms. This attraction was intenseand persistent and rendered me a babbling fool. It was truly a recipe for disaster.

It was also probably worth noting that I hadn't been on a date since I took Rebecca’s mother to our Junior Prom. Judging by how that night turned out, my track record was looking pretty abysmal. Not for the first time, I wondered if I was making a terrible mistake as I waved through the windshield while Becs skipped up the front steps of Lincoln’s home. His gorgeous, two-story Victorian home with the colorful harvest season decor and the Happy Thanksgiving banner strung from the roofline of the covered porch. The sting of inadequacy needled at my chest as I backed out onto the road to head toward the coffee shop.

Weekend tourist traffic filled the length of Main Street as I cruised through in search of a parking spot. They were a hot commodity when the town was as busy as this, so I ended up behind the grocery store my best friend owned. I had half an hour to kill, and lots of nerves to battle, so naturally, I did what every hot mess disaster does when his life is on the cusp of disaster. I called my mom.

“Ollie, my love!” Her chipper smile filled my phone screen as she waved and hurried to find my dad.

“Hi, Mom. How are you?” I neatened my hair in the front-facing camera.

“Oliver Branson, you styled your hair?” Her movement abruptly stopped as she squinted at her phone. “Are you wearing lip gloss?”

I hastily wiped the tinted balm from my lips with my coat sleeve as the blush rose in my cheeks. “N-no.”

“Oh my goodness gracious… are you… Ollie are you seeing someone?” Her hand flew to his chest to clutch at imaginary pearls. “Oh, baby! Gary! Gary, Ollie has a date!”

“Mom!” I let my head thunk backward against the headrest. “It's not. Oh God.”

“Ollie, you never style your hair or wear lip gloss. You didn't even do that for the family photos last time. Oh please, tell me a name.” Her excitement and delight was mortifying. Especially since she was one hundred percent right.

“Please don't get your hopes up, Mom. It's not like that. I don't think it is. I'm probably imagining something that isn't there because I'm hopeless.”

“Name?”

With a beleaguered sigh, I gave her the answer she was looking for. “His name is Ezechiel. He’s Becs’ new dance instructor, which is why this is a terrible idea.”

“Or a wonderful one. Baby, this is a good thing. Even if it doesn't work out how you hoped, you need to take time for yourself. You need to be young sometimes. The world won't stop spinning if you have a little fun.”

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