And that was too much. “Calvin said that?” One more effort at self-control, but it was no use. “Oh, man. That jacket—I got totally drunk after graduation and puked all over it. I mean, there was puke in thepockets. It was everywhere. And I couldn’t make myself wear it after that, so Calvin used it for—I don’t know, he usedit foreverything. Like, at least one cat has had kittens on that jacket. Blood and feline vaginal fluids soaking right into it. And I’m pretty sure he used it as a big rag sometimes to mop up whatever disgusting crap came along. He—I never knew why he didn’t just throw it out. But I guess—” Ben struggled to keep a straight face, but it wasn’t easy, not with Liam looking as queasy as he was. “Iguess he was saving it for a special occasion.”
“Feline vaginal fluid,” Liam echoed.
“Don’t forget the puke. And you remember Casper? When he got older he couldn’t always make it through the night without pissing on himself, and I’m pretty sure Uncle Calvin had him use that jacket as a dog bed.”
Liam nodded slowly, processing, then frowned at Ben. “You were never a big drinker. You got so drunkyou puked on yourself? After graduation. That was—”
Just after Liam and Ben had broken up. Instead of leaving for their long-planned backpacking trip across Europe, Ben had spent his summer in the magical land of drunken self-pity. Yeah, drowning his sorrows and puking on himself hadn’t been a one-time occurrence. “Uncle Calvin put up with a lot from me. Cleaned up a lot of my messes. No ideawhy he decided to keep the damn jacket, though.”
“It wasn’t—it wasn’t actively disgusting last night. He must have washed it.”
“At least hosed it off and hung it out to dry.”
“I thought—” Liam shook his head. “He sounded like he’d forgiven me. Like he wasn’t mad at me about it all. I thought we were okay, him and me.”
And he seemed genuinely hurt to think otherwise. “Liam.” Ben waited untilLiam looked at him. “He didn’t give you the jacket because he was mad at you. Uncle Calvin doesn’t mess around with people he doesn’t like. It’s his weirdass way of showing affection. You know this.” Or at least he’d used to know it. “He cut my hair in my sleepthree different timeswhen I was a teenager. It’s not like he was trying to make a point—he didn’t care how long my hair was. He was justbeing a brat. Or remember when we came back from school that first fall and there were those damn birds stalking us? Staring at us through the bedroom window all the time? Uncle Calvin trainedmultiplebirds of a variety of species to perch on that windowsill and stare inside. The cranky old coot just has too much time on his hands—it’s nothing to do with being mad at you.”
Liam eventually nodded.“Sorry. I’m all—I don’t even know. I’m a bit of a mess these days. But, yeah, okay, I do know that about Calvin.” He sipped his coffee, peered into the mug as if looking for answers to universal questions, then nodded again. “Yeah. If you’re sure Seth will be okay with it, I’d like to come help with the raspberry bushes. Or whatever else needs to be done.”
“I can safely predict that you and Iwill handle the raspberries and Seth will do anything else he can think of to avoid going near them. He says it’s a redhead thing and his skin is more delicate than normal people’s, more vulnerable to scratches. But probably he’s just a weenie.”
“If you could arrange to fight with him about that, then I could be on his side, and I’d earn some points that way. Any chance of that happening?”
“Me fighting with Seth while I’m doing his raspberry pruning? It’s practically guaranteed.”
“Okay. If you’re sure—”
“It’ll be fine. Let me find you something to—oh. I guess myself too.” How had Ben managed to ignore his own state of partial dress for so long? How was it still so damn easy to be comfortable with Liam, even after all the crap and all the years? “Let me find both of us somethingto wear. Guaranteed puke-free.”
“Also no feline vaginal fluids, if that can be arranged.”
“Trickier, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Ben took his coffee with him as he retreated to his bedroom. His hand trembled a little as he set the mug on his dresser.
Liam Marshall was in his kitchen. He was drinking coffee, and he was going to go over to Seth’s and prune raspberry bushes. This was all real.It was happening.
What if Liam came to the bedroom door just then? If he stepped inside, set his own mug on the dresser, stood in front of Ben, reached for the ragged hem of his shirt, lifted the fabric over his head….
Jesus Christ! None of that was going to happen! And if Liam lost his mind and started it, Ben would absolutely end it. Absolutely.
He yanked a drawer open and pulled out a pairof jeans, then another. Liam wearing his clothes. It was just a practical thing, and Ben couldn’t let himself obsess about it. When the day was over, Ben would throw the jeans in the laundry all jumbled up with other clothes, wash it all away, not do anything creepy—
There was a knock on the half-open bedroom door. “Ben?”
Ben’s stomach flipped. It was happening. Liam was—
“Do you have clothesfor me?”
Right. Clothes. Raspberry bushes and other menial chores. “Yeah, hang on.”
And then the devil took over. That was the only excuse—certainly it wasn’tBenwho stepped out of his shorts and pulled one of the pairs of jeans on, doing the fly up only partway, leaving the button undone. It couldn’t beBenwho was in charge of pulling off his T-shirt and opening the bedroom door half-naked.
He was about the same size he’d been in college, but everything was tighter, now, the baby fat totally gone. Maybe he wasn’t like some model or something Liam might date in the city, but he was in good shape.
And judging by the way Liam froze and then jerked his gaze away, he had the same weakness for Ben’s exposed skin as he’d had years ago.
Or else he was shocked and embarrassed on Ben’s behalf.Mortified that Ben was debasing himself this way.
