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“How will we do that?”
Lake held out his hand. “Pass me your phone.”
“It’s charging in the kitchen,” Harry said around a mouthful of ice cream.
Lake pulled out his own phone and started swiping. “We need someone smart, who loves to read.”
“Knightly?”
Lake paused, fingers on the screen. “No. Philip.”
Lake: Help me choose a monologue for Harry?
* * *
Philip: What kind of monologue?
* * *
Lake: Something emotional. Heartfelt. Something that makes me catch my breath when Harry performs it.
* * *
Philip: Sounds like a fun afternoon.
* * *
Lake: Would you like to join us?
Philip replied swiftly, promising to be at their place within the hour. He also attached a monologue.
“Guess you should read it,” Lake said, passing his phone to Harry.
Harry scrolled through and started trembling. “That’s an interesting choice. Right?”
Lake scrutinized the text.
There. Proof. Impossible to get any clearer about how Philip felt about Harry. Though taking a love quote from Romeo and Juliet seemed a little inappropriate.
He was probably too excited to find something less tragic.
“Very interesting.” Lake tiptoed out of the moat. Was that the lawnmower he heard? “We should choose an answering monologue to perform to Philip when he arrives.”
“We should?” Harry and his pineapples scurried over to him.
Lake held back from suggesting he change. If only Knight were there to witness the feat. “We’ll practice in the gazebo.”
“It’s not too much?”
“Much?”
“You know, grand-gesturey.”
Lake scoffed. “Actors thrive on the dramatic.”
“Ever thought about acting?”
Lake gave Harry a double-take. He waggled a finger, grinning, and scooped up a frightened Garfield en route to the gazebo. “You’ve been hanging around Knight too long.”
He cuddled Garfield close, kissing her furry head.
“Holy crap,” Harry murmured as they approached the gazebo. “Knightly’s shirtless.”
Lake pulled up from Garfield’s ears.
He tried hard not to gawk at those muscles flexing under a sheen of sweat as Knight worked the mower . . .
Harry cocked his head. “He’s hot.”
Lake petted Garfield harder. “He’s lucky. True attractiveness takes effort. It comes from the heart and the mind.”
“Which would make Knight . . .?”
Dangerous.
Lake plunked himself and Garfield on a bench inside the gazebo. “Let’s practice your monologue.”
“We don’t have one.”
Lake fished for his phone and searched. Definitely had to be Shakespeare, to respond in the same language . . .
Not that.
Definitely not that.
What the hell did that even mean?
“Got it. I’m forwarding to you.”
Harry’s freckled cheeks bunched in a cheerful smile. “So sweet. I hope I can deliver the lines without blushing.”
“Blush. Philip would like that.”
“Speaking of blushing,” Harry said curiously. “Who makes you stupid?”
Please. “No one.”
“When we first met, I was sure you’d be in a relationship.”
“Nope. No luck in that department. Probably never fall in love.”
“Oh, you will,” Harry said softly. “It’ll sneak up on you and cause all kinds of trouble.” He sighed.
Lake swallowed a longing lump in his throat, and watched Cameron blindly feeling for his poolside towel next door.
“What about him?”
“Cameron?”
“He’s good looking and smart. Has his own YouTube channel. He said he’d let me know if they run auditions.”
“Cameron isn’t into me. Not the way he’s into Jane Austen, his brother, and Josh who graduated from Oxford.”
Harry looked at him questioningly.
A cheeky wink. “Josh is a neighbor who didn’t invite me to his upcoming party.”
Harry bobbed his head. “Ah. You’re holding a grudge.”
“What gave me away?”
They laughed and returned to Harry’s monologue and the task of perfecting his delivery. Lake concentrated hard.
So hard, there was no time for his gaze to stray across the freshly cut lawn to—
“I’m parched.”
Harry ran off, and with the sudden stilling of the lawnmower, Garfield trotted after him.
A shiver zipped over Lake. He felt Knight’s attention on him. His frustration. His displeasure.
How long would he stay upset?
It burned in Lake’s gut. He wanted things normal again.
Lake groaned, knowing he’d have to acknowledge Knight’s concerns.
He found Knight half-naked in the shadowy shed, bent over the garden hose and sprinklers. The point at Lake’s waist and the insides of his knees where Knight had touched him this morning pulsed. His mind turned to mush.
He breathed in deeply. Cut grass, honeysuckle, and Knight.
Sensing Lake, Knight straightened, but didn’t turn around. “Lake.”
Words fell from his lips unbidden. “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”
Knight whisked around, and Lake staggered back at the colliding currents, flustered. “The monologue Philip suggested for Harry. See, I was right. Philip does crush on him.”
Not how he intended to start this conversation. For fuck’s sake, what was wrong with him?
Shadows clouded Knight’s expression. “O hell! To choose love by another’s eye.” He leaned closer, stealing Lake’s air. “In simpler English: poor Harry.”
Disagreement and vexation thickened in the air between them, and Lake hated how he couldn’t find an excuse for his provocative outburst. He was as upset with himself as Knight was.
