“Yeah,” Ben admitted, more as a breathy sigh than a real world. “Where’d you learn to do this?”
“Practice,” Sam murmured softly. “I’ve done this for men all over the world.”
An ugly spike of jealousy hit Ben in the chest. It was gone as soon as it came, but the memory of it remained.
He didn’t want to be jealous over Sam, and yet…
Some part of him wanted Sam to be his, and only his, forever.
That was a pretty big clue that Ben needed to stop worrying about what might happen, and tell Sam how he felt. He’d waited too long. How much longer was he going to wait? Until Sam had been happily married to someone else for twenty years?
Sam wouldn’t wait for him forever. It was a miracle that he was getting another chance now.
One mistake was understandable, even if the consequences had been dramatic. Squandering the chance to make things right would have made him unforgivably stupid.
“You ought to take your shirt off.”
Ben opened his eyes to see Annie standing in front of him. He blinked at her, startled by the suggestion.
“You’re getting oil all over it,” she continued. “And I bet you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of under there. Am I right, Sam?”
Sam laughed nervously, but didn’t respond.
Ben could tell that he felt trapped by the question, and he didn’t want Sam to be uncomfortable. Sam was doing him a favor.
Which left him with one option to get out of this.
He grabbed the back of his t-shirt, nudging Sam’s hands out of the way, and pulled it over his head.
Annie looked him up and down appraisingly as he straightened his back. “Nice,” she said, and then…
Then shewinked.
She walked away before Ben could react, not that he had any idea how to.
“What the hell was that?” Sam asked.
“I… have no idea. I think… I mean, she must have been trying to help, right?”
Deep down, Ben knew that wasn’t help. He wasn’t completely unaccustomed to being flirted with, usually before people thought better of the idea.
“Right,” Sam said, though he didn’t sound convinced.
He might even have sounded a little jealous, so at least Ben wasn’t alone in feeling like that.
“Wow,” Sam said as he finally put his hands back on Ben’s shoulders. “Have you been working out? Because I kinda remember you as skinny enough to count the ridges of your spine.”
Ben rolled his shoulders back, subtly showing off. It couldn’t hurt for Sam to think he looked good.
“I went through a phase,” he said. “Where I truly believed that working out would make me happier.”
“Did it?” Sam asked.
“I liked the endorphin rush after, but overall, not really. But it turns out that once you build muscle, some of it sticks around. Even if your only exercise after is walking to work.”
“Well…” Sam pressed his fingers into Ben’s shoulder blades, poking his way around the shape of the muscles there. “You look good.”
Ben’s face heated up, a blush spreading down his neck. “Thanks.”
