Page 20 of Backward Motion

“Good with his hands,” Sam quipped, and his cheeks flared. He bent to unravel a plastic garland of leaves in red and yellow, hiding his face. “So, is that, um, how you meet—God, how does one even go about meeting guys here?”

“Thistle Inn hosts a rainbow disco on the second Thursday of each month.”

“Really?”

“No, Sam. It’s Oakdale.”

Sam let out a snort. “You poor thing, stuck out here in gay no-man’s-land.”

Connor prickled with a sudden defensiveness. He didn’t want Sam to think he was some wide-eyed ingenue. “If you’re suggesting I’ve been hanging around, pining like a closeted nun, you can relax. The apps help.”

“Are there lots of other guys in town?”

Connor took one end of the garland from Sam and brought it up to where he’d reattached the string of lights. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know. I give Oakdale a wide berth, and I’m careful with photos.”

“You’re lucky on Grindr, no one’s interested in your face.”

Connor laughed. He wasn’t familiar with Sam’s brassy side. He must have been dialing it down before for Connor’s sake. Connor liked their newfound complicity.

Sam held the garland taut while Connor began pinning it to the window frame with a handful of nails. “I’ve refused to log on since I got back,” Sam said. “I’m afraid of what I’ll find.”

“It might have saved us an awkward conversation.”

“Or resulted in us having an even more awkward one.” Sam flashed Connor a cheeky smile. “But for the record, the other night wasn’t awkward,” he said, his tone softening. “Not in the slightest. And I wanted you to know, I respect where you’re at. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Connor remembered how quick he’d been to assume the worst after running into Sam’s mom at the supermarket. Of course Sam understood. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to put you in that position. I know it’s not ideal.”

“No, it’s fine, really.”

Connor finished hanging the garland and took in the state of the display. The leaves were a little crumpled from the packaging, and the window wasn’t big enough for the length of the lights, so they trailed off unevenly on one side.

Beside him, Sam’s face lit up. “I didn’t even ask if you’re seeing someone!”

Connor felt a familiar pang. The problem with hiding was that eventually, whoever he was with wanted to come home to meet Mom and Dad, and Connor had no choice but to disappoint. “Not currently. You?”

Sam shook his head and picked up a wreath of orange pinecones. He busied himself trying to unfix the tag.

“Well, if you do decide to explore your own backyard, I can steer you away from the pitfalls,” Connor offered.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Sam said with a curl of bitterness. He gave the tag another yank, but it refused to come loose.

Sensing his frustration, Connor eased the wreath from Sam’s hands and snapped the tag off with a flick of his wrist. “Why’s that?”

Sam took it back with a sigh. “I got out of something recently, and I don’t think I’m cut out for exploring.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not.”

Connor saw the way Sam’s eyes darkened. “What’s next?” he asked, switching gears.

Sam looked at the pile of decorations by his feet. “Maybe we can prop the wreath on the sill next to the scarecrow.”

“And the pumpkins? If we carve them, I could throw a bulb inside and hook it up to the mains.”

“Pretty sure that’s a fire hazard. I can see Mary’s face now. We’ll have sullied the good name of the festival for years to come.”

“Yeah, and I don’t think my dad could handle me burning any more shit down.”