“Shower,” Kayleigh said decisively. “Now. Lucky, get over your maidenly modesty and help him out of his things. I’ll clean up the mess, and we’ll figure out what to do when we’re done.” She sighed. “I really love this couch. I hope it dries off.”
Scout found himself being half dragged, half shoved to the bathroom, and when they got there, Lucky was surprisingly confident about undressing him as the water ran hot.
“S-s-s-s-omehow I-I-I thought this would be….” His teeth chattered particularly hard when Lucky unbuttoned his jeans and then shoved them down his hips.
“Yeah, well, I had dreams about romance too,” Lucky muttered. “And I was having them on that couch until you disappeared and then reappeared wearing half the ocean. Now lean on me and lift your foot out of your jeans. God, your feet look like they’ve been through wars. Dancing ain’t for the weak.”
Scout did as ordered, sighing blissfully when Lucky pulled back the curtain and helped him into the shower cubicle. Oh God, oh God, oh God. He was shaking so hard he couldn’t even risk speaking, and his vision went dark with the pain and relief of warmth returning to his limbs.
Finally, just when the water was starting to cool off a little, he felt like he could stagger out of the shower on his own power, but Lucky was there for him with a big fluffy towel.
“Your sister’s got the space heater going in your room,” he said, rubbing Scout’s limbs down and scrupulously avoiding looking at the rest of his body. Well, on the one hand, Scout hadlikedbeing checked out when he was changing that afternoon—he could admit it—but on the other hand, he wasn’t flirting right now. He was vulnerable and a little helpless, and he appreciated the respect.
Lucky kept that firm, sturdy arm around his shoulders, helping him to the room and sitting him on the bed while he found a new pair of briefs and some warm sweats. It wasn’t until he was dragging the sweatpants up Scout’s thighs that Scout found words.
“Stay,” he muttered, finally registering Lucky’s hands on his skin. “Borrow my pajamas and stay with me tonight. I-I promise I won’t follow any more fairy lights into the darkness. Just….” His teeth started chattering again.
“Yeah. Stay. I got it,” Lucky said. He patted Scout’s cheek like he would a little kid’s. “Although what you need me for when you got your ferocious sister, I’ll never know.”
Scout captured Lucky’s hand as it rested on his cheek. “You’re not my sister,” he said, some warmth suffusing his body. “I don’t want to… to hit on you now, but….” It was so embarrassing to say.
“You don’t want me to leave either,” Lucky acknowledged humbly. His thumb skated restlessly over Scout’s cheekbone, and Scout’s eyes drifted closed. He was sitting half-naked on his bed, and he slumped a little, sideways, as though only the ice in his body had been keeping him upright.
“Here,” Lucky said, as though he’d spoken. “Let’s get you dressed and under the covers. I’ll see if your sister needs any help, and then you and I will resume the snuggle.”
He followed through on his words with actions, and Scout recalled a period of lying in bed, shivering badly, before he heard the hum of the space heater his sister must have broken out from the closet. Then there was some rustling in the room, and Lucky’s sturdy body slid in bed behind him. Lucky wrapped his arm around Scout’s chest and his leg around Scout’s thighs, and finally—finally—the shivering abated, and Scout’s exhausted, racing mind began to slow down.
The last clear thought he had before he fell asleep was that therehadto be an easier way to get Lucky in his bed.
Worry
LUCKY WORKEDthe coffee shop counter on autopilot, and while he was sharp enough not to get swamped in a bog of mistakes, he was preoccupied enough to be brought down to earth in the rudest of ways.
“Oh my God, heishot! The Great Gestalt, right?” said a female voice, young and giggly and belonging to a girl who was maybe eighteen, getting coffee with her friend.
“Yeah! Just reading in the back of the store!” The friend was a little older, and male. Maybe a brother or cousin. “He’s even hotter in person!”
“Should we, like, go get his autograph?” asked the girl.
“We should at least go see what he’s reading,” said older cousin. “I mean, I like old bookstores, don’t you?”
She laughed again, and Lucky tried not to be jealous of a teenaged tourist with the giggles. Scout had gotten kicked out of the house for not being interested in that kind of thing, but the older cousin… that was something else entirely.
For one thing, he wasn’t giggly. He had a rich-guy’s voice—sort of like Scout’s, actually, but snootier. And he was cute. Tall, blond, green-eyed, clean cut, very sporty in a rich-guy way. His name was probably Tad, Lucky thought uncharitably, or worse, Justin.
Except this guy would wear that name like Lucky never could.
“Hi,” said his next customer, another teenager, this one a rather shy, gawky boy. “I’d like, uhm, a caramel frappe or whatever you call them. Something sweet that doesn’t taste like coffee that’ll, uhm—”
Lucky had to spare the kid a brain cell. He wore his hair long enough to cover his eyes and looked desperately uncomfortable. “Wake you the hell up?” he asked, feeling acute sympathy. He needed six of those himself.
“God, please?” the kid begged.
“Sure. Coming right up.”
He tried to keep focused as he made the kid his sugary caffeinated goodness, but it was tough. Kayleigh had been the one who’d shaken him gently that morning, telling him apologetically that his pocket was beeping and he probably needed to go get ready for his job.
He’d rolled out of bed and double-checked to make sure Scout was cocooned safely under the stacks of blankets. He was—pretty much only his nose and mouth peeked out from under the covers—and Lucky dropped a kiss on his swaddled forehead before scurrying out of there and heading for his flat under the store. The last thing Kayleigh had said to him was that they’d be in around eleven, so when he was ready to take his break, they could talk.
