“Okay, yeah, I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to talk about either one of them.” Except he kind of did. Well, not aboutLaura. “Liam offered to pay? He went to the garage?” Because he thought Ben was pathetic and needed charity, and because he didn’t want the nuisanceof talking to Ben again. Whatever the hell Liam was doing in town, it had nothing to do with Ben. This proved that. If he’d wanted to see Ben again, this would have been a great excuse, but he hadn’t.
“Rissa said she wouldn’t take payment from him without your permission. So I think he may be trying to talk to you to get your permission. Possibly pretty soon.”
The doorbell rang.
Ben lookeddown at himself. Ratty T-shirt, old cutoff sweatpants. He knew his hair was messy, he hadn’t shaved, he had morning breath, and he fully expected there were some creases on his face from the pillow because he’d been really, really asleep when the phone rang.
“Is Liam Marshall ringing my doorbell?” he asked in a small voice. “Rissa gave him my address?”
“No, but it’s not like he’d have troublefinding someone who would. Everyone knows you, and—well, he’s Liam Marshall. People like helping him out.”
“This town needs to do some thinking about its priorities. And maybe have a review of privacy legislation.” He looked frantically around the room. Should he hide? Was hiding an acceptable response? But if he hid, Liam would go away, and—oh, God, what was he thinking? He wanted Liam to goaway. Heneededto want Liam to go away.
“Are you going to answer the door?” Seth asked. “Damn, I wish I had a video of this. Can we FaceTime?”
“No. Go away.”
“Are you going to—” Seth started, but Ben hung up on him.
Liam Marshall was at the door. The door of Ben’s house. Their previous meetings had been public, unplanned, rushed, chaotic. This one was… what the hell was this one? Still prettychaotic, if the churning in Ben’s gut was any indication.
Shit. He needed to make a decision. Answer the door or hide under the bed? No, not under the bed. Too dusty. The closet—
And strangely enough, that was what got him moving. He wasn’t in the closet. Never had been, never would be. He wouldn’t hide who he was, and he wouldn’t hide from Liam Marshall.
He resolutely refused to glance intothe mirror as he passed the open bathroom door. He didn’t care what he looked like. This was going to be a conversation about financial restitution, not fashion.
He yanked the wooden door open and scowled through the screen door out into the bright sunlight. Liam was backlit, the sun forming a fucking halo around his too-perfect face. Because of course that’s how it was. Stupid sun. Just onemore vote for the sainthood of Liam Marshall.
“What?” Ben said, and this time his voice was much more growly than it had been on the phone.
“I’m sorry—did I wake you?” Liam looked shocked by the possibility. “Is it still early? Shit, I’m sorry. I woke up a long time ago, and the garage was open, and the bakery was open….” He held out a brown paper bag. “I guess I didn’t look at the actual time.I brought you cinnamon buns. I don’t know if you still like them. I can just leave them, though, and you can go back to sleep. Sorry.”
“You say ‘sorry’ a lot.”
Liam frowned. “I guess I have a lot to apologize for.”
“But ‘sorry’ isn’t magic. It doesn’t actually change anything.” This was a much deeper conversation than Ben had intended, but now that he’d started it was hard to stop. “It’s just—youshould stop doing the things you need to apologize for. Shouldn’t you? Rather than just doing them and thinking that an apology will make everything better?”
“Right.” Liam stepped backward. “Sor—” He grimaced. “Should I just tell you why I’m here, or would you rather I left and came back later?”
Ben knew better. Ofcoursehe knew better. But he pushed the screen door open anyway. “I’m awakenow. I’ll make coffee. Have you already eaten?”
“No.” Liam stepped forward cautiously, clearly looking for a trap, which was a pretty good idea on his part. “But I don’t want to intrude.”
For a quick moment, Ben wished he’d had company the night before. Someone really hot, someone casually affectionate—he’d stroll out from the kitchen wearing nothing but boxer briefs, showing off his rippedbody and big bulge, and he’d have a mug of coffee for Ben and he’d nuzzle in over his shoulder and kiss Ben’s neck and whisper, “Is he staying, or do I get you to myself?” And then—
Well. None of that was going to happen, damn it. “You’re not intruding,” Ben said, although it was obviously untrue and he wasn’t going to try too hard to pretend otherwise. “Come in.”
As soon as Liam stepped inside,Ben wished he’d suggested they stay out on the porch. It was too strange, too damned intimate having Liam in his house. But Liam strolled in as if everything was totally natural, totally fine, and he glanced around, then smiled. “This place suits you. The colors and everything. It feels like—likeyou.”
“You have no idea what I ‘feel like.’ Not anymore.” Ben turned quickly and headed for the kitchen.What the hell was he doing? If he was going to let Liam into the house, which he’d already done, then he needed to be a better host. Not gracious, maybe, but at least not bitchy. “Sorry,” he said, and Liam snorted. Yeah, okay, itwasn’ta magic word.
“I don’t need to be here,” Liam said. “If you don’t want me here, say so. I went by the garage and asked to pay for the repairs to your car butthey wouldn’t take my money without your permission. I just wanted to ask you if that was okay. And if it’s okay, can you call the garage? Then I can get out of your hair.”
And in true preteen angst-monster fashion, Ben hated the idea of letting Liam leave. Letting him walk away again, to be gone for another fifteen years? God, it was unthinkable. “I’ll make us coffee,” he said, trying to soundcalm and less likely to snap Liam’s head off. Shit, trying to make himself attractive, acceptable, like a desperate fifties housewife trying to lure her cheating husband back to the nest. Was that what he was doing? Was hethatpathetic?
“Shit,” he said, and he turned to face Liam. “What’s going on? I feel like—well, okay, I was just all bitchy about you not knowing, but fuck, Liam,Idon’t knowwhat I feel like, not anymore. Why are you here? I don’t mean at the house—no, you can’t pay for the car repairs. So if that’s all this was, we’re done. But if you’re going to stay, I want to know why you’re in North Falls. You’ve been away a long damn time, you know. What are you doing here now?”
