Oliver loves playing piano, which is a good thing since he was pushed hard by his parents since his child prodigy days. He's carved out a spot at the top of the classical world, featured as a soloist and headlining shows of his own, although he has no illusions about the degree to which his good looks and an open-shirt album cover early in his career have contributed to his popularity. Many of his fans wouldn't be there if he was an unattractive fifty-year-old playing the same music. So he's pretty jaded about people wanting to be with him, and he's not dated for over a year. Still, he has it great - money and music, travel and acclaim, and if he wanted a woman, he could find one.
Then pediatrician-in-training Jamie moves in next door, with his sunny smile and his two dogs, and his attractive abs, and his friendliness. And somehow, gradually, as friendship grows, Oliver comes to realize he wants more than he's ever had, like maybe his own person to come home to. Except Jamie first met Oliver when he thought he was straight, and that's difficult to undo. And Jamie has found a new boyfriend, while Oliver dithered.
This is a slow, slow burn, which I enjoy. I liked that the straight-to-bi/gay realization wasn't traumatic. Oliver went to Juliard, he knew enough gay musicians to be comfortable, and when he begins to rethink his own sexuality, it's not a huge crisis. His biggest issue is shyness, discomfort, a fear of upsetting a friendship he's come to count on. The progression of the slow burn makes me want to smack Oliver but it feels plausible, in a person who has been a people-pleaser all his life due to cold and demanding parenting, and who would rather take the easy road of doing nothing than do something wrong.
The best friends are great, the dogs are fun. This is a pretty simple undramatic story, but it carried me along. The ending is a sweet hug of an HEA, and this goes on my comfort-reread shelf.