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“Yep, finally settled down,” Cody said, trying desperately to push back against the nervous fear that felt as if it were gnawing its way out of his gut. He could practically feel Jugs listening to their exchange.
“How long?” Devin asked.
“A few years now,” Cody said as he moved around the desk. It was much too large for the room. He turned sideways in order to sidle between it and one of the shelves and found himself eye to Speedo bulge with a picture of Devin. The photographer had caught him mid-jump on the board, arms overhead and exposing the dark fur of his pits. His broad chest and washboard stomach were pale and smooth, skin glistening with water.
“Has the sound been coming from one particular wall?” Jugs asked, moving around the other side of the desk.
“Yeah, the one behind my chair.”
The one with the window, Cody noticed. As he moved behind the desk, he glanced outside, took in the backyard surrounded by a wooden privacy fence, neatly maintained lawn bisected by a cement pathway that led to a wide cement patio with an upscale outdoor seating arrangement around a fire pit. Medical sales apparently brought in some money.
“I met Claudia in college,” Devin said as Cody leaned in and pressed his ear to the wall. “She was in my frat’s sister sorority. We dated for three years, were engaged for two, and now married for three.”
“That’s great.” Cody tapped softly on the wall, noting it was plaster and not drywall. Older home, so lots of possible entry points for a critter.
“No kids yet. How about you?”
Cody waved a hand toward Jugs. “Does he count?”
Devin laughed and Jugs scowled. Cody counted that as a win.
A soft sound from behind the plaster made all three of them jump.
“You heard that, right?” Devin’s voice had an edge of excitement. “Right?”
“I heard it.” Cody looked at Jugs. “Didn’t sound like a chipmunk.”
“Nope.” Jugs furrowed his brow. “I don’t think it’s squirrels or a raccoon.”
“Possum?”
“Maybe.” Jugs looked at Devin. “Is there attic space above this room?”
“Um, I think so. I can show you.”
Devin led the way up the stairs, Cody following. He was at the perfect level to notice the tight curve of Devin’s ass, and tried to think back to high school and football. Had he ever let his gaze linger a bit too long on Devin while they were all showering? He didn’t think so. But back then, he could never have imagined he’d be married to Demmy, so he had probably repressed every ounce of attraction to another guy that might have flickered inside of him.
“It’s an old house,” Devin said, making a face over his shoulder. “So, the attic entry is what we call a hobbit door.”
“We’re used to it,” Jugs said from behind Cody, sounding way more put-upon than Cody thought was warranted. He was probably still stung from Cody asking if he counted as his and Demmy’s kid.
And Cody felt guilty as hell for dancing around the fact he’d married Demmy. Some of that old high school nervousness around acceptance and shit like that obviously still lingered. He thought he’d put that all behind him when he’d outed himself to people in town and the Cody Bower ex-girlfriend support group he’d never realized existed. Apparently, however, it only took one previous football team member thrown into the mix to put him right back into that high school societal anxiety.
One step forward in his self-acceptance, fifteen years back.
Damn, he was mad at himself. Demmy deserved better.
The upstairs hallway was narrow and ran alongside the stairwell. Three bedrooms and a bathroom opened off it. Devin stopped in front of a waist-high door along the wall and shrugged. “We store decorations and stuff in here, so we don’t go in it very much.”
“Yeah, it’s like these older houses were built by Lilliputians,” Jugs grumbled as he moved between Cody and Devin, getting on his hands and knees in front of the door.
“Lilli-what now?” Devin asked, cocking his head and frowning at Cody.
“He’s referring to Gulliver’s Travels,” Cody said. “Jugs is apparently feeling literary today.”
“Jugs?” Devin looked down to where Jugs had put on his headlamp, eye protection, and gloves and was cautiously opening the door. “Is that what you called him?”
“Yeah, it’s a nickname,” Jugs said as he flicked on the headlamp and peered into the space beyond. “Got it in high school.”
