Using the doggy distraction, Jason pounded past all hallway inhabitants and threw himself under Owen’s bedcovers. Then thought his mad dash might have raised eyebrows and died inside as he called out wantonly, hoping Owen would play along, “Waiting for you, honey.”
“Be right there, sweetheart.” Good man.
Less than a minute later, Owen, dressed for bed, shut his bedroom door behind him. Jason held his breath and counted a dozen padded footsteps before cooler air funnelled under the blankets and Owen squeezed in beside him. The space was narrow and Jason had left as much of it for Owen as he could, which left him teetering on the edge.
“I’m so sorry,” Jason whispered across the darkened pillow. “I only wanted to see you in leotards.”
Owen laughed and hauled Jason in by the hips until he was crammed against a shuddering chest. “You got a lot more than leotards.”
“A lot less, you mean.”
“Sure about that?”
Jason considered. “It was quite an eyeful.”
More laughter shook the bed. Jason’s too, this time. Soft cotton and bergamot suffused each breath, and his limbs relaxed, twining between and around Owen’s. He looked up, finding Owen’s eyes in the dark. “I do have a serious question, though.”
Owen tightened his hold. “What’s that?”
“Were you humming Rebecca Clarke’s ‘Piano Trio’?”
Breath whooshed over his temple. “I’d like a list of criteria for what you consider serious, Jason.”
“That piece put me on the international stage. Is it one of the things that gave me away? Did you recognise me as a musician?”
“Yes.”
A silly wee shiver. Did Owen find music magical? Jason’s music? “Have you seen me perform?”
“I was at a concert in Melbourne a few years ago. I noticed your uncanny resemblance to Carl then, but dismissed it as coincidence. Only, when you helped Jane with her crossword . . . Adagio. Carl would never have come up with that on the spot. I already had suspicions and then, at the station, I was certain that evening hadn’t been a trick of the light. There was another one of him.”
“I’m not another him.”
“No. No, you are not.”
“What was the other thing that gave me away?”
Owen’s lips rose at each corner. “You know, I’d love to hear you play again.”
Jason thumped lightly against his chest. “Unfair. I’m all taut with suspense.”
“Join the club.”
A sudden thought. “Is that why you chose Trinity for our date? Were you hoping I’d perform for you?”
“I could see you itching to.”
“There were a few moments.” His teeth clenched—Hayden, showing off his latest prize in front of the one he’d discarded. “But, you know. Carl.”
“Another time, then. When you’re not pretending to be your brother.”
“How about I bang out something on my instrument tomorrow?”
“Sounds too hot to Handel.”
Jason laughed. His fingers flexed and danced on Owen’s chest, over his arm, down to his hip. Beethoven. “I’m thinking ‘Romance no. 2 in F major’.”
“I do like romance.”
Jason hummed, continuing to play over Owen, up and down. “Thank you,” he murmured as his fingers grew heavy. “For tonight. All of it.” Caring for him at the hospital, taking the blame, not freaking out at Jason’s . . . growing curiosity. “You’re the most understanding fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.”
“I’m the only boyfriend you’ve had.”
Jason smiled and slipped his fingers under Owen’s upper arm. “You must’ve had a few, though.”
“Yes,” Owen said slowly.
“Go on.”
“The last year at school, before I started at the academy. He tutored me in math.”
“Then you tutored him in the ways of love. Jock meets nerd, I can see it. Didn’t last?”
“Did I forget to tell you about my other secret boyfriend?”
Jason pinched his nipple, and Owen rumbled with laughter.
“He was heading to uni. We went our own ways.”
“Who came next?”
“A distant cousin.”
Jason giggled.
“Look, it was a surprise to both of us.”
“That Christmas was awkward.”
“Needless to say, things got strained, and we weren’t in love enough not to care.” Owen shifted. “After that, there were a lot of casual hook ups. Until Hayden. No need to scowl.”
“I’m not scowling.” He was totally scowling. He cleared his throat. “Tell me that story.”
Owen pressed his lips together, humming, then, “He was dog-sitting part-time and there was a leash incident at the park which . . . anyway, I got called over, and he was running around laughing, trying to corral the dogs, and I helped. The next day he thanked me again, sans dogs.”
“Sounds romantic.” Jason began a new tap-tapping rhythm over Owen’s chest.
“I fell hard and fast. Two years later, it was all over. I never quite understood.”
Fingers softened. “I’m sorry.”
“Life seems to have other plans for me.”
“You’re taking it too well.”
“Now, I am. Yes.”
“Would you get back with him if he came begging?”
A long pause. Very long. Then, “You’re really pounding out that tune on me.”
Jason drew his hand back. “You know what? Enough about the past. What does your future look like? What do you want?”