EARLY MARCH
There’d been no moretexts that made me second-guess if Ryan was flirting or not, and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed by that. It also made me wonder if I’d read far too much into that one text, which was likely, since Ryan Broadwater was very much straight. There’d never been a moment to make me consider otherwise.
While there’d been no specific texts that made me overthink, there’d been plenty that gave me a buzz of hope that our reconnection was real. Last night he’d messaged to let me know he had plans to come home at the end of the season. That was another couple of months away, and I could still hardly believe it.
I headed out of the store, calling out to Patrick that I’d grab him a muffin and coffee, and stepped out onto the main street. It was only just gone nine, yet there were plenty of people around. Since a new housing estate opened up just a couple of kilometers out of town, it meant there were a heap more people around, which was good for business, especially when it came to gardening, as the new residents were landscaping.
Cooroy was a great place to live. With only a couple of thousand residents, it was easy to know lots of the locals, and considering how long the store had been open, which was since before I was born, it was a staple. There were usually lots of tourists around too, though.
Maple Street had an old-school charm to it. As I passed the estate agents and the small clothing store, I appreciated the collections of “Hellos” a few faces I recognized sent my way. With the sun already pressing its heat onto the sidewalk, I kept to the shade the store canopies provided. While we were officially in autumn, that didn’t make much difference to our Queensland heat.
I headed into the bakery, my stomach grumbling and letting me know it was morning tea time. Ivy had been up every couple of hours. I’d taken over at five this morning so Amber, who was dead on her feet, could attempt to get a couple of hours of sleep before I left for work.
“G’day, Hattie.”
The rosy-cheeked woman glanced up from what she was doing, offering me a friendly smile.
“Morning. The usual?”
“Yes, please, plus Patrick’s.”
Hattie immediately organized our coffees and our snacks, calling over her shoulder, “How’s your morning going?”
“Not too bad. A steady stream. You know how it goes on a Friday.”
Friday mornings tended to be super quiet until around eleven, when customers visited thick and fast, usually preparing for their weekend activities.
“That I do.” She finished making our coffees while I angled to look out toward the street. A few people were milling around, parents with pushchairs, several elderly folks getting on with their day to buy their morning newspaper and fresh produce from the local grocer.
The normality of it all had me thinking of Ryan and the message I had yet to answer for no other reason than it had been a busy start to my day. I rolled my eyes at myself, calling BS. I had plans this weekend to head out again with Tallis, his partner, and a group of their friends. It was ridiculous, but I felt kinda weird saying as much to Ryan, sure he’d be asking questions.
Coming out, yet again, was endless as well as exhausting. Doing so to Ryan seemed a lot more significant than it had to anyone else, ever, including my parents. The possibility of him freaking out, especially knowing all the times we’d shared a swag and undressed in front of each other growing up, wasn’t something I wanted to deal with. But I would. I had to. Knowing he now planned to visit in a couple of months cemented the idea.
“Here you go, Nate.” Hattie placed the take-out cups in a cardboard carrier and the muffins in a bag for me. “Have a good one.”
“Cheers, Hattie, you too.”
I headed out, still thinking about Ryan, the unanswered text burning a hole in my pocket. A huff of breath later as I entered the store, I figured it was time to respond and get to the details. The cards would fall regardless, and I’d have to be okay with that. If Ryan was weird, he could go screw himself. Though even thinking that made my insides cramp uncomfortably.
“Don’t say I don’t do anything nice for you.” I smirked at Patrick as I handed him his coffee and muffin.
He snorted. “Cheers, mate.”
“I’m heading into the office to catch up with the quarterly statement. Give me a holler if you need anything.” I glanced at the wall clock. “Dad’s coming in early afternoon,” I reminded him.
“I best go dust off the paint cans then, huh?”
I laughed, thinking about Dad and how he had this weird obsession with dust. “Best had.” I continued into my office, closing the door before placing down my morning tea and tugging out my phone. Once seated, I reread the text, smiling as I caught a glimpse of an earlier message where he was bitching about dodgy bacon or something.
Me: Not a lot on tonight. Heading out to the Sunny Coast tomorrow night.
I smiled when dancing dots appeared. Ryan didn’t have a game Thursday night, so I imagined he was already home, ensuring he got a good night’s sleep for a fresh start tomorrow. The guy was nothing if not committed.
Ryan: Leave a guy hanging. *winky face* Anywhere decent to hang out on the Coast these days?
Before Ryan left, we’d just been on the cusp of adulthood, so we had never ventured out to bars or clubs. Instead, we’d tended to grab the occasional sneaky beer to have at a friend’s house or something. Ryan had been completely committed to making it in the pros, so he’d rarely drank anyway. Me? I’d been too shit scared to get pissed, afraid I’d end up a drunken mess and out myself.
Me: A few. Brissie’s better. Just heading out with one of the John Deere blokes who’s local, his partner—I hesitated over the use of partner, but swallowing back my nerves, I continued—and some of their friends.
