He was still pissed at him, but he would get over it. Arlo was the only person he had left, and he would only have him until he joined the NHL. There was no point in pushing the kid away, even though it might hurt less if he tried.
He also didn’t want Arlo to see him like this because he knew it would worry him. And because Arlo was such a soft-hearted guy, this would terrify him.
With his leg seized and his body numb, it was difficult to push himself up to turn the water to a warmer setting, but he did it.
“You want me to make something for us to eat?” Arlo’s voice said into the bathroom. “I owe you an apology.”
“Yes, you fucking do,” said Harrison, trying to hide his chattering teeth. “I want burgers on the barbeque, beer and a shit-ton of fries.”
There was a pause before Arlo said, “You’re lucky I owe you abigapology, because now I have to go into town to get supplies, and I’ll feel like a dick if I don’t follow through.”
“Why are you still standing there yapping then?” said Harrison. “Take the damn Mustang so I don’t have to deal with a repeat of today, because that won’t end well for either of us.”
“You’re such a grumpy, old prick.”
The sound of Arlo walking away gave him a hint of relief. Now he had time to clean himself up and fight off the hypothermia before he returned.
He had to use the bar in the shower to get back on his feet, but once he was standing, he leaned against the wall, waiting for his skin to turn from bloodless white to red. It was like being poked by a thousand needles after ten minutes of defrosting, but he stayed where he was and ignored the pain in his leg. When it became unbearable, he knew it was time to get out.
His limbs were stiff, but he could move. Harrison dried off and limped to his bedroom, grabbing his bottle of ibuprofen off the dresser and shoving four into his mouth, swallowing quickly. By the time he dressed, stumbled back into the living room and dropped himself in his chair with his heating pad, Arlo was pulling in the driveway again.
Arlo’s blue eyes found him when he walked through the door, and he winced.
“Yeah, I heard it’s going to rain. Is it aching badly? Do you want me to grab some Advil?”
Harrison grunted dismissively. “I already took some. Get cooking.”
The sound of disbelief that left Arlo’s mouth made him laugh.
In his head, of course. He wasn’t about to show that things were forgiven just yet.
Arlo was a brat, but he would make someone a good husband one day. He knew his way around the kitchen, and hockey would make him rich. He would have men lined up for him once he was ready to date.
“Oh, dude,” Arlo said, pausing his frantic onion cutting. “There’s this new anime I want us to try tonight. I think you’ll like this one.”
Ifhe was ever ready to date.
Arlo jogged to the living room, flashing Harrison a charming Killinger smile as he stole the TV controller from him and turned on his anime. He cackled his way back to the kitchen, leaving the controller out of reach so Harrison couldn’t change it.
Harrison was forced to endure colourful drawings on the screen, waiting for Arlo to finish with the food. He attempted to pay attention to all the information his cousin continued to provide him with about the plot, but it was impossible. The kid seemed unaware that talking over the showmade watching it pointless. He wasn’t old, but holy hell, he didn’t understand anime.
Arlo was an odd contradiction. He was a nerdy, geeky, foul-mouthed jock. He played hockey like he came out of his mother wearing skates, and he was just as scrappy as Harrison had been, but he was into cooking and nature documentaries.
Fucking weirdo.
When the cooking was done, Harrison was handed a healthy amount of food and a bottle of beer, and Arlo threw himself onto the couch, already biting into his burger.
“Whas wid oar ace?” Arlo said with his mouth full.
Ah, there was the fuckboy returned from the dead.
“Chew your food. Christ’s sake.” Harrison took a bite, waiting for Arlo’s one brain cell to focus on eating before he reached over and snatched the remote off the table.
He chose to ignore the eyeroll Arlo sent him when he changed the channel to his favourite James Bond movie. Anything but giant, naked people running around and eating other people, thank you.
Harrison wasn’t in the mindset to care about the movie, but he tried his best to stay engaged. If he looked like he was into it, there was a 90% chance that Arlo would shut up and not ask him the question that he knew he was dying to ask.
“So…what happened after Jett Fraser hopped in your car and you took off together?”
