Page 27 of The Quirky Vet

"Oi. What's up?" Linus's voice rings out. "We've been ringing the doorbell for ages."

Muir jerks back, but I stay frozen in place, my mind struggling to process the moment that was just ripped away from me. I was on the verge of kissing my best mate.

Slowly, I turn to see Linus and Ryde approaching from the side of the house. Ryde whispers something to him, and they both stop in their tracks.

"We can give you a few minutes," Ryde calls out.

It's too late.

Whatever that moment was has been broken. I don't think Linus and Ryde disappearing is going to change that.

I check in with Muir. "Are we good?"

He locks eyes with me, swallowing hard. "Yeah. We're good."

"Come on, fellas." I wave the guys over, trying to summon some enthusiasm in my voice. "Let's get this bucks' night started!"

5

Muir

"Here we are," Fitz says, cutting the engine on his ute.

It's Wilby and Col's big day, and we've just pulled up in the designated parking area out the back of Wilby's family home.

It's been an interesting few days.

The bucks' party itself was fun but mild. Nothing too interesting to report and definitely no strippers, much to Wilby's disappointment.

It was nice meeting Wilby's biological father, Gus, and Gus's partner, Tate; Col's dad, Hig; and Col's best friend, Brant, who also happens to be Col's dad's partner—that's a bloody story and a half.

We sat around the massive fire talking, laughing, and eating.

I kept my composure as best I could, fully aware that my behaviour has raised some eyebrows at work. But it was hard to stay cool when my insides were burning hot. And it had nothing to do with the massive bonfire and everything to do with what went down between Fitz and mebeforethe guys showed up.

The way he latched onto my hand. The way I didn't want him to let go. The way he looked at me, with a mixture of curiosity and…something deeper lurking in his eyes.

But what?

I'm so used to being able to read his face and instantly know what he's thinking or feeling. Not this time.

As promised, he didn't freak out, but I wouldn't have blamed him one bit if he had. It's a big thing to drop into a decades-long friendship. But if he was blindsided, he certainly didn't show it.

At least not that night.

As we sat around the bonfire and shot the shit, things felt good, like they'd returned to normal, like me opening up to him about my feelings had pierced the bubble of awkwardness that had enveloped us since our trip to the Goldie.

But these past few days at work have been another story.

The lingering sense that something's not right is back. But this time, it's coming from him.

On the surface, everything seems fine. We chat. We muck around. We come up with ideas for TikTok videos.

It's all very normal, very us, but…I don't know.

I get the sense he might be freaking out but doesn't want to say that he is. I can't tell if it's because he's had time to process my revelation and it's making him feel a certain way, or if he's just sick and tired of keeping this whole situation from our friends.

I know I am.