It should have been a sweet moment. It shouldn’t have made Ben want to grit his teeth and yank his hand back from Kevin’s grip. Shouldn’t have made him feel like he was trapped.
“First racers, on your mark…,” Calvin said, and Kevin let go of Ben’s hand as if he’d forgotten they’d even beenin contact. He edged forward, all his attention focused on the race.
Apparently Kevin was taking the stroller obstacles pretty seriously.
And so was Liam, Ben discovered as he drew back into the crowd of onlookers. All the participants were fully engaged, yelling advice and encouragement, and otherwise acting as if they were in the finals at the Olympic Games. Calvin had chosen extremely competitivepeople for this event.
Made sense that Liam was acting that way—he’d always been driven and intense. But Kevin?
The first three contestants made it through the course without injury, although one runner from each team spilled the doll out of the stroller and had to race back to the top of the course to restart the run. Liam and Kevin started out neck and neck. Liam had a good initial sprintbut took the first corner too fast and almost lost the doll, then had to waste precious seconds trying to get it flipped all the way back into the stroller. Kevin took a more balanced approach.
Calvin was commentating on the action like a demented sports announcer, and almost everyone at the party was gathered and cheering for one team or the other or both. The racers reached the far end almostin unison and grabbed their beverages—beer for Liam, a can of ginger ale for Kevin—and that was where Kevin lost his edge. Liam chugged his bottle like a frat boy while Kevin took a gulp, winced, took a sip, looked pained, took another sip, made another face, took a sip—and Liam was off. His team roaring, the crowd electrified, all eyes on him as Kevin took one more sip, then set his can down onthe messy, liquid-strewn table, on its side.
The base of the can was turned toward the crowd, and there was so much activity, so much commotion as Kevin grabbed his own buggy and took off after Liam, only a stride or two behind. Ben couldn’t really see, not for sure, that there was liquid spilling out of the can.
And Kevin didn’t waste any time worrying about it. He made up time as he and Liamweaved their way through the bags of disposable diapers, and he had almost caught up when they hit the final turn, charging around the huge stuffed elephant Calvin had said would belong to Tamara when the party was over.
They were close, but Liam was ahead, and there was no reason he wouldn’t stay that way. He stretched out almost horizontally, the stroller keeping him upright as he sprintedfor the finish line, his entire body driven and focused on its goal, its destination, its home—
And Kevin collapsed to the ground with a yelp of pain. He was clutching his ankle as Liam blazed across the finish line and was absorbed into the arms of his jubilant teammates. Kevin looked up, caught Ben’s gaze, and looked down at his ankle, shaking his head.
Ben did his duty, but he didn’t rush.He edged through the crowd, made his way down the lawn, and crouched next to Kevin. “Twisted it?” he asked as neutrally as he could manage.
“I guess, yeah. There was a hole—not a hole, I guess, but an unexpected dip.” He forced a smile. “It’s not like we can expect Calvin’s backyard to be equipped for Olympic sprinting.”
“Olympic stroller racing,” Ben corrected absentmindedly. “Oh well. Yougave it a good try. Want to get up and walk it off?”
“I’m not sure I can just walk it off.” Kevin poked gingerly at his ankle. “I wouldn’t have stopped running if it was just something minor, you know.”
Ben thought of the ginger ale can—it’d be empty by now, certainly. And it didn’t matter anyway. So what if Kevin hadn’t totally finished the drink? So what if he’d taken a fall and was fakingan injury in order to cover up his loss? Ben couldn’t be sure any of that was true, and even if it was… so what?
“What do you want to do?” Ben shifted around so he could sit on the grass next to Kevin. “Do you need to go to the hospital? Or just ice it? Do we need to leave?”
That was when he noticed the shadow falling over their legs and looked up to see Liam peering down at them. “Everythingokay?” he asked. His face was gently flushed, his hair tousled, and Ben had to force himself to turn away. He couldn’t see Liam like that, not without—well. He just wouldn’t look at him, and that made everything simpler.
“I’ll be okay,” Kevin said. “It’s too bad it happened—I think I had you.”
“You think so?” Liam didn’t sound angry, or even frustrated. The patronizing bastard sounded amused.“We’ll have to have a rematch someday.” Then something changed, shifted in the air, and Ben knew without looking that Liam’s attention had turned to him. “Calvin wants you, Ben. Apparently you’re surprisingly good at the boring games inside. Even though I’ve won a lot of events out here, Calvin says you made up enough points on the other stuff that we’re tied. He’s got some sort of head-to-head—”
“No.” Far too much emotion in that word, and Ben took a deep breath before saying, “I don’t know what Uncle Calvin’s up to, but—no. I’m done.”
“Done… at the shower? Like, Kevin needs you to go nurse him back to health?”
“No. Done with the games.”
Liam knew what Ben was saying—Liam always knew. But he pretended otherwise. “That’s not cool, man. Calvin’s put a lot of time into all this. I knowit’s kind of surreal, but there’s just one more game, you might as well—”
“There’s never just ‘one more game’ with Calvin.” Ben knew it too well. “He’ll always keep pushing, testing, until somebody says ‘no.’”
Still, Liam played stupid. “I think he means it this time—he’s got the trophy all ready to present. There are quite a few trophies, actually, with all kinds of different titles. He’s puta lot of work into this, Ben. Be cool, okay?”
“Cool?” Too loud, and it all got worse when Ben pushed himself to his feet and glared at Liam. Adorably, sexily disheveled Liam. But Ben wouldn’t think about that. “There’s nothingcoolabout this! About him inviting you, you being here, him setting up all these contests—pressuring poor Kevin into this stupid race! And now Kevin’s hurt, and you’restillhere, and—”
“Keep your voice down,” Liam said. A suggestion, calm and pleasant. “Kevin’s not really hurt—you know that. And the rest of it? What did you tell me about that disgusting coat he loaned me? Messing around with people is Calvin’s weirdass way of showing affection. That’s all this is. Don’t build it into something bigger.”
“Donottell me how to handle my uncle!”
“Ben.” Forthe first time, Liam let a little emotion into his voice. “You’re losing it. If you don’t want to do the last game, fine. I’ll—” He cast a derisive look in Kevin’s direction. “I’ll tell him I pulled a muscle or something, okay? Fake injuries for everyone. Just chill out. This has been a really nice party for a lot of people you care about. Don’t mess it up.”
