Chapter One
The moment Sam got out of the elevator on the floor Ben’s office was meant to be on, he started to feel like he was making a terrible mistake. This was a long, long way from the noisy, darkened newspaper offices he’d been used to back when he and Ben had been inseparable.
This place wasnice. It had a huge window letting light in, and people seemed to have permanent desks, and everything was bright and colorful and no one was shouting. This was a world he didn’t belong in anymore.
He’d come all this way now, though. There was no point in stopping at the final hurdle.
“You look lost,” a young, pretty woman said to him. Sam felt lost, so that wasn’t really a surprise.
“I’m looking for Ben Osborne’s office,” he said. It was too late to turn back now.
“Third door along,” she nodded to a row of evenly-spaced doors on the opposite side of the building, each one with a neat brass plaque in the middle. “Good luck.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, not sure why he was being wished luck by a total stranger. Kids these days were weird.
He hated that he was thinking of an adult with a job as a kid, but he had a solid fifteen years on her, by the looks of it. Maybe a little more. Their age gap was probably old enough to vote.
A lot of the people milling around were about the same age. Thirty-seven hadn’t felt all that old until right this moment.
Steeling himself, Sam crossed the open-plan space to the row of doors, finding Ben’s name engraved on the third plaque along, as expected. He took a deep breath as he reached out to turn the handle, closing his eyes to beg the universe that Ben would be happy to see him.
Sam wasn’t sure he could survive being rejected right now. Especially not by Ben.
He opened the door without knocking and slipped inside, catching a glimpse of a figure bent over the desk, still too nervous to look directly at him.
The office was exactly as he expected it would be. Darkened, lined with shelves full of books and archived copies of the magazine, with a well-worn couch off to the side and no chair in front of the desk so people couldn’t make themselves comfortable.
Everything about it screamed Ben.
The only thing he couldn’t quite figure out was the whiteboard with9 daysprinted on it in Ben’s handwriting, underlined three times and circled. It must have meant something to Ben, though.
“You gonna tell me what you want, or are you just gonna stand there?” Ben asked without looking up.
Sam finally looked over at him. He’d grown his hair out, so long that it was almost brushing his shoulders. His shirt was rumpled, and his posture was terrible, and he looked as though he hadn’t shaved this morning.
He was more like himself than he’d ever been. He looked like Sam had always imagined him at this age.
“I missed you, too,” Sam said, managing to stop his voice from faltering as he spoke.
Ben looked up, and then blinked at him. “Holy shit,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing. “Holyshit,” he repeated.
Before Sam could respond, he was being wrapped up in a bear hug, strong arms squeezing him tight. So tight it was difficult to breathe.
Ben’s frame had filled out over the time Sam had been away, a big change from the skinny boy he’d once known. Ben looked settled into his body now. Comfortable.
Beautiful, honestly. He was so attractive that Sam wasn’t entirely sure how to react.
He smelled of citrus and cedar, his hair brushing against Sam’s nose as he backed off.
“You look great,” Ben said.
Sam’s stomach sank. That was a lie, and he knew it. The scar on his face suddenly felt bigger and more obvious than ever.
“Thanks,” he mumbled. There was no point in getting into a fight. Ben was just being polite.
He’d never been polite before in his life, as far as Sam knew, but people changed. Ben had obviously changed.
Besides, they were strangers now. That had been so easy to forget.
