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Ben scowled and stormed out of the room.

Levi watched him go, triumphant. He knew what he’d seen before the irritation set in. It was only for a second, but it looked a hell of a lot like hunger.

CHAPTER 6

To Ben’s immense surprise, Levi actually had some experience in the kitchen. Maybe even more than Ben. He wasn’t a gourmet chef, but he did something to the potatoes that Ben had never heard of called “double baking,” where he boiled the potatoes, then shook them in a pan with some flour and, if they had any, spices. Then the floury potatoes went into the oven and crisped up magnificently. They tasted just as good as side dishes Ben got at restaurants. Much better than the mashed potatoes he’d been planning on.

Levi was annoyingly smug about it. But he did help Ben with the dishes, although Ben was half convinced that Levi did it so he could press up against Ben while they stood together at the sink, rather than help. However, there were times when he doubted. Levi had looked relieved when Ben reluctantly let him help with dinner. Maybe he was just bored and looking for things to do.

Levi dried his hands with a dishtowel and leaned his hip against the countertop Ben had just wiped down. “So… what now? More staring into the fire? Because that was only fun for about ten minutes.”

“Surprised it even lasted that long,” Ben said. His tone was less gruff than usual, which unnerved him. He didn’t want to let his guard down around Levi. Didn’t want to like him, even though Levi had proved himself less useless than Ben assumed when he failed to fight off an attacker or whined about carrying his bags in. He hadn’t even complained much about the lack of screens, although Ben could tell it was annoying him. Hell, it was annoying Ben a little. He didn’t give a shit about his phone beyond its practical uses, but he liked to settle in and watch TV. Now he wished he’d had one installed.

“I’m going to read,” Ben announced. “You’re welcome to my bookcase. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”

He headed toward the living room. Levi trailed after him, looking at the huge bookcase with a skeptical expression. “Is there anything here that isn’t about World War 2, politics, or biographies about dead world leaders? Oh, sorry. I forgot the beginner business books that you clearly haven’t touched.”

“There’s also Westerns,” Ben replied.

“Hot men in cowboy outfits waving their guns about. Yay.” Levi reached for a dusty tome that Ben used to love as a teenager, then hesitated. “When were these written?”

“The sixties.”

“Before even your time,” Levi muttered, tapping the creased spine. “How homophobic is it?”

“The normal amount. Ow.” Ben pressed his lips into a tight line, trying to stop the pained noise as an unexpected stab of pain raced up his leg. But the damage had been done. Levi turned to him, his brows raised.

“Are you okay?” Levi asked, his eyes going automatically to Ben’s knee. There was no pity in Levi’s face, but Ben didn’t care. He hated anybody knowing he was in pain. Or sad. Or anything but okay. Being anything other than okay was a personal failing, and Ben didn’t want anyone to witness it.

Ben kept the weight off his leg, holding himself tensely until the pain lessened. “I’m fine,” he lied. “Just pick a book.”

He picked his own book—a well-worn tome about the failed assassination attempts on Hitler—and settled in the armchair, hoping it wasn’t obvious how slowly he’d been walking or how much of a relief it was to sit down. He hadn’t done his stretches today. That was probably why his knee was locking up. Not to mention the cold, which had cut straight through his jeans when he’d patrolled the perimeter earlier.

He turned to the first page and pretended to read. Levi lingered next to the bookshelf, running his stupidly long fingers over the dusty spines. Then he walked out of the living room and came back a minute later with a hand-held mirror and a comically huge makeup bag. He sat down in front of the fire and pulled a long, crystalline device out of the bag. It was shaped like a razor, except instead of a blade, it had a shiny roller. Ben turned a page he hadn’t been reading, telling himself to ignore whatever the fuck Levi was doing. Then Levi started rolling the pink device over his cheeks, and Ben couldn’t stop himself.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m reducing puffiness,” Levi answered, a challenge in his voice. “And encouraging blood flow. Apparently, it helps me absorb skincare treatments.”

Ben watched, appalled, as Levi traced the roller underneath his eyes. Was Levi fucking with him? There was no way that was real. But Levi kept going, rolling that stupid thing over his face and then placing it back in his makeup bag. He resurfaced with a bag of makeup wipes, which he used to clean the eyeliner off his face. But it wasn’t just eyeliner that came off. There was also something on his cheeks. Concealer or foundation, which Ben still didn’t know the difference between. Whatever people used to cover up their face. Levi’s skin looked shiny and soft underneath it, and Ben forced his gaze back to the book he wasn’t reading. Just let the guy do his makeup shit in peace, he told himself.

“Why bother with makeup?” he said instead. “You weren’t going anywhere special.”

Levi looked over his shoulder, amused. “I don’t wear makeup because I’m going somewhere special, dude. I wear it because it’s fun.”

He placed the used makeup wipe next to the rest of his supplies, then dug into the makeup bag and came out with a stick of what Ben assumed was eyeliner. Levi waggled it at Ben and beamed. “Want some?”

“I’m a middle-aged man,” Ben said flatly, which he immediately regretted when Levi gasped sarcastically.

“Oh shit,” Levi said, staring wide-eyed at the stick of eyeliner as if it had just transformed in front of him. “A middle-aged… man? And that means makeup will magically repel from your skin? Fuck, I never knew!” Levi dropped the sarcasm to pin Ben with a look that made Ben feel stupidly defensive. “Okay, you big strong maaaan. I’ll keep it away from you in case you break out in hives. I just figured you might want to try, since you clearly like how it looks on me.”

He finished up with a wink. It looked different than usual, and it took Ben a moment to realize he’d never seen Levi without makeup before. It made him look oddly vulnerable. But infuriatingly, he was no less attractive, especially with firelight glowing delicately against his cheek, softening his edges.

Ben fought back a wave of protectiveness that rushed over him and turned back to his book. It really was interesting, no matter how Levi had mocked his history books before, but he couldn’t focus with Levi around.

“I already told you to quit flirting,” Ben reminded him, hating how his heartbeat picked up whenever he directly mentioned it. “It won’t get you anywhere.”

“Are you sure? My flirting gets me a lot of places.” Levi took a bottle of something out of his giant makeup bag and emptied oil into his hand, smoothing it over his face and neck as he watched Ben shamelessly. “It’s how I got my first modeling job.”