“You think I look seventeen?”
“No. I was taking the piss. But you don’t look much older than twenty.”
“I’m twenty-four.”
Cole’s throat worked as he swallowed a mouthful of Heineken. I busied myself jamming the lid on the paint can and wrapping my brush, but eventually, I ran out of things to do, so I claimed my beer bottle and downed half of it in one while he studied me.
I narrowed my eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Why are you staring?”
“You’re interesting, and I figured it was okay, seeing as you stare at me all the time.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. I’ve seen you.”
“Then you must be staring too.”
“I can’t seem to help it.”
My brain did a backflip. Was he seriously saying those words, or was I speaking what had been on my mind for days without realising? Confessing that he’d filled my thoughts since I’d first laid eyes on him?
It made no sense to me whatsoever that I’d captured his attention as much as he had mine.
Cole set his beer bottle down. “Sorry. I’m not some leery weirdo, I swear.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“No? So why the stunned silence? Have you never had anyone check you out before?”
He was checking me out? Nah. He must mean something else.“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Cole tilted his head sideways. His gaze seemed to drill holes in my skull and expose my brain for him to dissect. “Have I got this wrong? This place is, like, queer central, but I didn’t mean to make assumptions about you.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, pondering if I could ever explain that Whisper Farm being so queer-friendly actually made it harder for me. That being surrounded by men who handled their sexuality so fucking efficiently made the fact that I didn’t have a clue how to handle my own all the more humiliating. “It’s not an assumption if it’s true. I... I guess I just don’t know what to do with it.”
Smooth, Tobes. Nice one.
Cole’s stare seemed to go on and on. I swallowed thickly. He was sitting so close to me I could smell him, and that the scent of the city still clung to his skin annoyed me. I’d spent a week and a half building a home for him—longer if you counted the months and months when I hadn’t known who the cottage would be for. I wanted him tofeelat home, damn it, but something told me it would be a while. That Cole was a complex soul, and it would take more than painted walls and a new oven to settle him.
“Toby?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry if I’ve freaked you out. I kinda thought you were digging this vibe between us too.”
“Oh, I dig it.”
“Yeah?” Cole reached out and tucked a wayward strand of my hair behind my ear. “So why do you look like you just found out I have webbed feet?”
A laugh spluttered out of me. “There’s nothing wrong with your feet.Trustme.”
Cole’s eyebrow twitched, as though he knew I’d spent a week and a half dreaming about rubbing my hands over his perfect arches and gorgeous toes. “Tell you what, just forget I said anything, okay? If we keep vibing, we’ll talk again. Maybe... if you want to. Or we can just carry on as we are. I like you, man. Something about you... I don’t know. It calms me.”
I didn’t want to calm him. I wanted to make his skin heat and his heart pound. And for him to sweat over me as much as I was him. “Sorry I’m such an idiot. I don’t really know what to do with blokes. I’ve never really—”Shutup. Are you really about to tell the hottest dude you’ve ever damn seen that you wouldn’t know what to do with him if he took his clothes off?