Harrison groaned and dropped his head in his hands. He needed to admit that, despite barely knowing Jett, he was enjoying his company. It was funny to think that if he still had his place with the Sunbursts, they could have quickly become friends.
HelikedJett Fraser.
Arlo would never let him live it down.
And when he stood and leaned over the edge of the rink, watching for the moment Jett saw him and his expression lit with asmile, he knew he was fucked. His insides were squirmy, and his heart got jumpy behind his ribcage whenever Jett looked his way.
Jett made a hard stop in front of him, waiting impatiently for that direction and praise that Harrison wouldn’t give unless he earned it.
“Grab a puck and let’s get started,” said Harrison. “Judging by what I’ve seen so far, we have a lot of work to do.”
Most guys would have told him to go fuck himself, but Jett laughed and grabbed one of the pucks sitting on the ledge of the wall, completely unbothered by the insult.
And that was one of the many things that Harrison was starting to like about Jett fucking Fraser.
Harrison
“I’m going to cook for us tonight.”
Harrison looked up from the pages of his book, levelling his gaze on Jett, leaning over him like he could scare him into agreeing.
It had been four steady days of learning how to live with each other, and so far, Jett was an okay roommate. He didn’t make a mess, was quiet, and respected Harrison’s space. Why he was trying to change the routine, Harrison didn’t know, but it didn’t bode well.
The cooking was Harrison’s job because it was his kitchen. He wasn’t as good as Arlo, but he could make meals that tasted great and were healthy. Jett did not need to offer, so he felt inclined to reject him.
“Nope.” Jett jabbed a finger at him, eyes narrowed to appear dangerous, but it only made him look like a stubborn brat. “If you won’t let me do it here, I’ll make a pit outside and try old-style barbecuing, and no one wants that.”
Harrison put his book on the side table and rubbed his hands over his face. “Fraser, why are we doing this? It was turning out to be such a peaceful day.”
“Bro, if the thought of someone cooking for you is this upsetting, I would suggest talking to a therapist about your control issues.”
Harrison dropped his hands and stared at Jett, holding his gaze until he began to tremble. Minutes ticked by and neither of them spoke, but Harrison wouldn’t give up until—
“Jesus!” Jett threw his hands into the air, signalling his defeat in their staring contest. “I’m making supper, no matter how scary your glare is. And if I need to call Arlo as backup, I will.”
Jett left before Harrison could protest, which was for the best because the Arlo threat was not one he could take lightly. It was bad enough he had to deal with Fraser, but having the two puckheads ganging up on him wouldn’t be the best strategic move.
Resigned to his fate, Harrison slumped into his chair and turned the settings on his heating pad higher, pre-emptively rallying his strength to fight the inevitable fire Jett was about to start in his kitchen.
To calm his nerves, he turned the TV on the News station and tried to pay attention to the stories happening around the province. There wasn’t anything new; a heartfelt animal story here, New Brunswick complaining about something there, and companies getting sued or called out for being crooks.
All very mundane. All very boring.
A crash made him jump, and Harrison gripped the arms of the recliner, forcing his eyes to stay on the TV.
“Shit!”
There was another series of bangs and then silence.
Harrison waited, but when there was no explosion or smell of burning walls, he figured he was in the clear.
He could hear Jett shuffling, his frantic pacing suggested that he’d downed five cups of coffee and two energy drinks. Harrison wondered if the goldendoodle was on any medication, because if he was, it was ineffective.
Another crash, followed by multiple things tumbling to the floor, made him cringe, but Harrison refused to look.
“Stupid, friggin potatoes,” Jett muttered, and there was more noise as he picked the potatoes up and threw them in a bowl? The sink?
Harrison retrieved his phone from the side table under his book and located his messages with Arlo.
