Ben lifted his mug up a bit. “No, mate, we’re good.”
“Okay, then,” he said walking over to them. He was all broad shoulders and stubble, dark eyes and warmth, and fuck it all, Patrick was in such deep shit. “I’m just going to go and get changed while the kettle boils.” He met Patrick’s gaze and smiled again before heading off to his bedroom.
Patrick swallowed.
“Oi,” Ben whispered and poked him with his toes. “Close your mouth. I don’t want any drool on my cushions.”
“Oh piss off. This is all your fault.”
Ben leaned forward a little and motioned for Patrick to do the same. Patrick barely resisted rolling his eyes, because it wasn’t like Will would hear them. He had his bedroom door shut, and they weren’t exactly shouting, but he shuffled along the sofa and leaned forward anyway. “What?”
“Look, I wanted to say….” He paused, and Patrick felt a flare of excitement about what Ben could possibly want to tell him. Maybe he had some inside tips about how to get into Will’s pants and—yeah, justno. That was wrong on so many levels.
“What?”
Ben grinned and sat back in the chair. “Don’t have sex in my bed.”
Patrick looked at him, wrinkling his nose. “What? I’ve just bloody got here. It’s not like I’ve got someone lined up for the minute you leave.”
The door to the guest bedroom started to open, and Ben nodded toward it. “I’m just saying, do it in Will’s bed and not mine.”
Patrick almost choked on his tea, making Ben laugh as the door opened and Will walked back out. His brother could be such a dick sometimes. How had he forgotten this? Patrick’s cheeks were on fire; he felt the heat seeping down toward his neck, and—fuck it—he was going to have sex all over his brother’s room if it killed him.
“What’s so funny?” Will asked, straightening out his unfairly fitted T-shirt.
Patrick shot Ben a warning glance, hoping Ben wouldn’t embarrass him any more. Ben winked at him and gave a tiny shake of his head, making Patrick relax enough to finish his tea.
“I was telling Patrick that he’s on litter tray duty while I’m gone.”
Will eyed the cat now sprawled on her back beside Patrick. “Oh thank fuck for that.” Cleo opened one eye, as though she knew they were talking about her, and fixed him with a glare. “Your cat hates me. There’s no way I was gonna clean up her shit.”
Patrick idly stroked along Cleo’s belly, smiling as she began to purr. “Yeah right,” Patrick muttered, watching the way she stretched out her paws. “I don’t believe that for a minute. Everyone loves you.” He didn’t realize what he’d said until Ben coughed, and Will leaned over to ruffle Patrick’s hair.
“Thanks, mate. See, Ben. Even your own brother prefers me.” Will thankfully moved away toward the kitchen, leaving Patrick to try and sink into the sofa and out of sight.
“Um… that’s not what I said. I just meant… you know….” Patrick gestured down at the cat, not that Will could see him, he had his head in the fridge, probably searching for milk. “I can’t imagine someone hating you.” God, he needed to shut up.
Ben kicked him in the shin to get his attention, mouthing, “Smooth,” and trying not to laugh.
Will glanced over at him then, milk in one hand as he shut the fridge. He smiled and winked, and fuck, Patrick would need to leave the room soon. “Thanks. I think Cleo is the exception.”
True to form, when Will came over to sit down, she hissed at him and disappeared under the dining room table. Patrick watched her go, unable to keep the grin off his face. “Wow, she really does hate you.” He laughed and felt some of the tension drain away as Ben began to rib Will about cats having excellent taste. The two of them bantered back and forth, Patrick joining in as he began to feel more comfortable and less like a love-struck teen. Maybe these next two weeks wouldn’t be that bad after all.
THEY WEREdefinitely going to bethatbad.
As soon as they’d finished eating one of the huge frozen lasagnes courtesy of Patrick’s mum, Ben yawned and stood up. “Right, I’m off to bed. Got to pack a few bits first and then be up too fucking early.” He grabbed his plate and took it into the kitchen before coming to stand behind the sofa. “You still all right to give me a lift to the airport?” He clapped a hand on Patrick’s shoulder as he met his gaze.
Patrick rested his head back on the cushions and nodded. “Yeah, ’course. What time do you need to leave?”
“Flight leaves at six forty-five, so I said I’d meet the others a couple of hours before. Leave about four?”
“That is way too fucking early.” Patrick yawned at the thought of it. “But, yeah, that’s fine. Give me a prod in the morning, make sure I’m up in time to have a cuppa first.”
Ben smiled and gave him a gentle shove. “It’ll be my pleasure to wake you up.”
“Yeah, whatever. Go to bed.”
Ben ruffled Patrick’s hair as he left, making sure to leave it as messy as he could and laughing as Patrick told him to fuck off. He’d have to get it cut if people kept messing with it. Fuckers. Patrick was still smiling as Ben closed his bedroom door, but then it dawned on him that he and Will were now alone, and suddenly Patrick couldn’t think of anything to say. All the relaxed feelings of a few minutes ago disappeared, and Patrick felt the tension begin to seep back into the room. He hoped to God he was the only one who could feel it.
