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Knight scrubbed a palm over a frustrated smile. His expression steadied, and his voice held its usual rationality. “I was naked, and you liked what you saw. Nothing wrong with that, Lake.”
“I was ogling my best friend’s dad.”
A growly sound came from Knight. “I’m not your dad.”
“No. No you’re not. But . . .”
Knight ran a hand through his hair, and glanced away. “I’m showering, then heading out for the night.”
Lake’s gaze dropped down Knight’s length. Again. “Will Paul be there?”
“Yes, actually.”
Stupid forbidden crush Paul. “You should wear that sweater Taylor knitted you a few Christmases ago.”
“The seaweed-brown monstrosity?”
“That’s the one.”
Knight rang out a laugh. “Does it disturb you to think of me as a sexual person?”
“It disturbs me thinking you’ll bring someone home tonight.” Lake jerked a finger at all that muscle. “There’s no way you couldn’t.”
“It’s a work gathering. I’ll endeavor to keep it professional.”
Lake let out a relieved breath. “Thanks.”
A contemplative frown crossed Knight’s face, and he scrubbed a hand over the slight stubble on his jaw. “Right.” He twisted on his heel. “Shower.”
“I’ll jump in after you.”
Knight chuckled, moving into the bathroom. “I’ll be sure to empty the warm water.”
Flushing, Lake shut the door between them. “Good idea.”
Faint laughter followed.
Lake jerked into a shirt, pushed open his window, and sat on the wide sill. Breezes did little to cool his embarrassment and nothing to erase the images of naked Knight, showering. More than showering . . .
A different man, and Lake would have shrugged the moment off, but after seven years knowing someone, seeing them naked felt potent.
Weighted.
Disconcerting.
A knock came at the door. How long had he been daydreaming?
He was not ready to see Knight again. He eyed the trellis descending from his room to the yard and swung his legs over the sill.
His door parted an inch and Lake almost leaped.
Harry’s voice sailed into the room. “Lake? Do you have a moment?”
Christ. Just Harry. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” Harry said, grinning. “Can I come in? I need your advice.”
Lake waved him in and swung back into the room. “Advice?”
“About a boy.”
Lake perked. “Spill.”
“I kind of bumped into him between auditions yesterday, and he asked me to lunch. We talked forever, way past his lunch hour. It was so easy being with him, and he told me he misses me, even though it hasn’t been long.”
How serendipitous! “Philip finally spat it out?”
Harry shook his head, laughing. “Not Philip, Martin.”
Lake frowned. “Martin?”
Harry’s smile ate up his face. “I mean, I know lunch wasn’t planned, but it counts as a date, right?”
“He might have asked because it was lunchtime and it might have been easy to talk because you’re family.”
“Oh.” Harry’s shoulders fell an inch. “Maybe, yeah.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t rush to interpret his feelings after one lunch date.”
Harry slapped a hand on his pocket and hurriedly withdrew his phone. He waved it. “Speak of the devil.” Harry read the text. “He says he enjoyed lunch and wants to know if I can come for dinner tomorrow.” He looked up. “That sounds like a date, doesn’t it?”
Lake searched for the most delicate way to disagree. “I don’t know. Maybe he means him and your grandma?”
“Oh. I’ll ask.”
Before Lake could stop him, Harry tapped out a text.
They waited impatiently for Martin’s response, while Lake tried to tamp down any weirdness.
The phone buzzed, and Harry read aloud, “Hoping it’ll be just us.” His eyes blazed with hope. “Surely that means something?”
Lake hummed. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Oh, here’s another message.” Harry cleared his throat. “‘I cleared out my study and made it into a spare room. If you want to stay with me again?’ What do I do, Lake?”
“Answer him.”
“And say what?”
Lake threw up his hands. “No, you have to decide that.”
“You think it’s a big leap. You think I should focus on Philip?”
“You’re the only one who can look into your heart, Harry.”
Harry bit his lip. “I mean, every time I look at Martin it feels like I’m swallowing a live wire. But, Philip is attractive too. And super nice, and no one in my family would object . . .”
Harry needed to stop biting his lip or it would come off.
“I mean,” Lake blurted, “if you have any doubt, that might indicate your real feelings.”
Harry’s frame sagged and he dropped onto Lake’s bed. “I shouldn’t hesitate if Martin is the one.”
Lake sat next to Harry and sympathetically patted his leg.
Harry threw himself back and stared at the ceiling. “Besides, he might be acting polite with the room. The dinner too. Maybe he wants us to be better cousins!”
Lake cringed. “Dinner could have ended traumatically.”
Harry groaned into his hands. “You’re right. How mortifying.”
“I know a thing or two about mortifying.” Flushing, Lake forced Knight’s naked image from his mind. “Wouldn’t recommend.”
Harry chortle-groaned. “I have to turn down the room.”
“I think you’re right. Also, I’d be sad if you left.”
