8
Two days of hell. Unable to stand the silence any longer and desperate to know why he was unable to contact Spence, Ben made the decision to go to his house to face him in person.
He waited until the early evening when he knew Spence should have finished work for the day and was most likely home. Apart from the nights when he was hanging out at Ben’s place or when he chose to go for a run, Spence was usually home during the working week. He sometimes spent the evening watching a movie or cruising the internet, but more often than not he read. Ben smiled at the thought of Spence curled up in a comfortable spot with the latest thriller in his hand.
Now that he had a plan, Ben felt lighter, relieved that he was taking action and not just dwelling on Spence’s lack of communication. He’d obviously thought the worst after waking up yesterday morning and finding the space next to him empty and cold. All sorts of thoughts had raced through his mind, the most sickening of which was the idea that Spence was upset about what had happened between them.
What if Spence had regrets? What if he was appalled by Ben’s actions? Oh God, what if he’d thought Ben had forced himself on him?
Ben had been unable to think of anything else for the past two days, replaying every wonderful moment of that night one minute and then worrying over Spence’s disappearance the next. Why the hell was every call going to voicemail, and why wasn’t he responding to texts? But as he remembered how Spence had touched him, the magic of his gentle embrace and the passion that they had shared, he knew that Spence had wanted it as much as he had. There was no way that he had imagined Spence’s response, the force behind his kisses, and the hardness of his body pressed tightly against Ben’s own. His groans of pleasure and soft murmurings were further evidence of just how much he had enjoyed Ben’s attentions. Even now, as he relived those details, Ben felt himself hardening, his body responding to the remembered sounds and smells that had accompanied their union. Reminding himself of howgoodthey were together gave him the confidence to go and see Spence, to confront him and make sure he understood the type of relationship Ben wanted.
In his heart of hearts, Ben knew that Spence wanted him the same way.
His confidence remained buoyed as he walked up the path to the Hendersons’ front door. He rapped briefly before taking the handle and twisting. As expected, the door was unlocked, so Ben pushed it open and called out a “hello” as he wandered up the hallway.
“Anyone home?” he called. “It’s only me.”
“In the kitchen, Ben,” Mrs Henderson called from the back of the house. “Come on through.”
Ben entered the warm and sunny room. Although it was early evening, the late afternoon sun was still streaming through the windows, highlighting the subtle floral wallpaper and reflecting off the stone benchtop. Mrs Henderson was standing at the sink, peeling vegetables. A pile of peeled carrots was waiting to be sliced, and there were green beans in a bag waiting to be tackled next. A succulent aroma hinted that roast beef was on the menu, and Ben’s mouth started to water at the thought of Mrs. Henderson’s cooking.
“Hi, Mrs H.”
“I’d give you a hug, sweetie, but I’m up to my elbows.” She smiled at him and indicated her hands. “Pull up a stool and take a seat. I guess you’re here looking for Spence?”
“Yeah.” Ben grabbed a stool and sat at the breakfast bar. “He hasn’t returned any of my calls since yesterday, and I was getting worried. Is he here?”
She looked up from the carrots, her brow furrowed. “No, he’s not here.”
“He’s still at work?” Ben queried.
Mrs Henderson put down the carrot and the peeler she was holding, exchanging them for a tea towel. She wiped her hands. “Spence has gone away for a while, Ben. I wish he’d let you know.”
“Away?” Ben looked at her in surprise. “Away where? When will he be back? What about work?”
“Actually, I’m not sure when he’ll be back, sweetie. He’s taken a bit of time out. He said he had a few things to sort out and needed to clear his head.”
“He’s not answering his phone or replying to my text messages. Can you tell me where he is or give me the number there? I really need to speak with him, Mrs H. It’s important.”
“He doesn’t want to be contacted, Ben.” She looked at him sadly and came around the bench to place her hand on his forearm. “Just give him some space, sweetie. I know he’ll come around. He’s struggling with the direction his life is taking at the moment and needs to make some important decisions. I know he is worried about your friendship, and I’m sure you’ll be the first person he contacts when he gets back.”
“Worried about our friendship?” Ben echoed, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.
After a while, he realised she wasn’t going to give him any more information no matter how much he pleaded, so Ben gave her a hug. It was obvious there was no point in hanging around.
As he walked to his truck, she called to him, “It really will be all right, Ben. I’m sure things will work out for the best.”
Sliding into the front seat, he wasn’t so sure.Oh God, I’ve really screwed things up. What if he decides he doesn’t want to be friends anymore? What if he’s so upset with me that he can’t bear to look at me? What will I do without my best friend?
* * *
By the timeSaturday came around, and after a craptastic week of work and the inability to shake Spence from his thoughts, Ben jumped at the chance to visit his mother. At least the weekly visit to do jobs around the family home gave him something else to think about, and he really needed to focus on something besides his own problems for a change. Despite finally receiving a brief text message from Spence saying he’d had to go away for a while and would be in contact soon, Ben still worried. What did that even mean? Why did Spence have to leave?That damn message said nothing!He was falling into a dark place with all the worry and regrets.If only I could take back last weekend, have a do-over.But then again, the idea of not even having those memories was torture.
He took a deep breath and got out of the truck. The plan was to spend a few hours in his mum’s garden—mowing and weeding and forking over the compost—before heading back to his place to do some more work on the apartment. Cameron was swinging by to help with the floorboards, and Ben was really looking forward to hanging out with him. More distraction. They’d work for a while, but he’d bought beers and they’d get a pizza delivered. It might actually turn out to be a good day—well as good as a day without Spence could be.
Ben headed straight into the house and headed towards the kitchen. “Mum? I’m here.”
His mum greeted him with a smile in her voice. “Just in time for a cup of coffee. Or would you prefer a cold drink?”
