Most Ardently

by Gabe Cole Novoa

Darcy laughed, and Oliver was so shocked he couldn’t hide the surprise from his face. Darcy’s laugh was genuine; it rolled up Oliver’s spine and filled him with warmth. He couldn’t help but grin in return. “Well, I don’t still loathe it,” Darcy said. “It grew on me. I hope it will do the same for you.” “Be careful what you wish for,” Oliver said. “If I like it too much, I might want to come every week.” “Hopefully so,” Darcy said without missing a beat. Oliver’s face warmed. Was Darcy saying he wanted to spend more time with him? He looked at the taller boy carefully, taking in his wavy dark hair and sharp jawline. In contrast with the near chaos around them, he seemed so relaxed. Oliver didn’t have the chance to prod this line of conversation any further, however, because they’d reached the dining table. Darcy pulled a chair aside for him, and Oliver met his gaze with an arched eyebrow. Darcy’s face tinged pink, probably realizing that was more of an expected gesture for a woman, but he didn’t release the back of the chair until Oliver sat down. Darcy sat next to him, his face still a little red, but he was smiling softly, and Oliver was finding he really enjoyed Darcy’s smile. “Careful,” Oliver said softly, “if you’re too gentlemanlike, I might think you’re trying to court me.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Oliver could have kicked himself. What was he doing being so forward with Darcy? But he’d kept his tone light so Darcy could plausibly interpret his sta...