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Liam got him out a cutting board and followed King’s directions, chopping bacon as King got the other ingredients ready—boiled eggs, breadcrumbs, fresh parsley, a ton of garlic, and salt and pepper. When everything was ready, King prepared the meat, laying the thin slices over strips of kitchen twine. “We basically spoon the filling onto the meat, wrap it, tie it up, and cook it on a simmer for a few hours. We’ll do the vegetables after we finish studying if that’s okay?”
“If it’s simmering, there’s a sauce, yeah?”
“Red wine, onion, carrots, and a few other herbs.” He turned to Liam and smiled reassuringly when Liam’s hesitance must have shown in his pinched lips. King knew he wasn’t a fan of red wine. “It’s good, you’ll like it.”
When they were done, the stuffed meat rolls immersed in a rich-smelling sauce, and their hands washed, Liam took their refilled drinks over to the table and sat down. King wiped the benches one more time and wandered over to him, leaning over Liam, one large hand closing over his shoulder and squeezing. King ran a finger over the open page of the textbook sitting on the table. “Are you good with this stuff? We looked at it yesterday.”
Liam nodded, revelling in the warmth of the man at his back. He hadn’t experienced this attraction to men before, but he couldn’t bring himself to fret about it. He’d never been one of those men who were threatened by queer people. Maybe that was Lij’s and his family’s influence talking. If it was, he was proud to be open enough with himself to recognizing that his sexuality wasn’t as straight as he’d imagined. Knowing that he could love more than one gender didn’t frighten him. It reassured him. Made him certain that even though he’d never really been on the receiving end of the kind of unlimited love that poems were written about, he knew he could give it.
“Okay then, what are we working on today?” King asked.
“Dunno, teach. What should we work on?” he teased, looking up at the man who’d made him see.
“You’ve got your test coming up. Should we spend some time on that once we’ve gone through this week’s class materials?” King slid onto the seat next to him, shifting closer so he could watch closely as Liam worked. He breathed King in, loving the scent of the spicy aftershave or deodorant that he wore. Maybe he should get some of it. But Liam had never worn those classic scents before. They seemed to be made for older guys. More sophisticated ones. Would something like that suit him? Probably not.
He shook out of the spell King’s scent cast over him. Liam closed his eyes and imagined King kissing his neck. He was sexy as hell. Liam licked his lips, desire smouldering in his veins like embers about to ignite. “If I pass this subject, I’ll have another statistics course to do. Can you help me with it?”
“Of course. I’d love to help.”
“Good, good. I really want your help with it…” He sucked in a breath, tapped his pencil on the notepad, and swallowed down his nerves. “I’m really glad we’re friends.”
“So am I.” King’s words were quiet, and Liam shifted in his seat so he faced King, his legs bracketing King’s. “Your company… it’s kept me sane.” King huffed. “I was worried I’d be lonely without Adds here. Eve, my friend, and I see each other a few times over the holidays, but I don’t have too many other people I catch up with.” He paused, chewing on his lip. “My parents try to feed me non-stop. They don’t get that it’s bad for my diabetes, even though my dad has it too.”
Liam smiled sadly. He understood that King had once had an unhealthy relationship with food and that would have been made so much worse by parents who constantly encouraged him to eat. But all Liam could picture were the times when he’d arrived home after practice to dishes stacked by the dishwasher ready for him to load, with nothing left for him. He’d had more Vegemite sandwiches than was healthy, and if it wasn’t for Carol noticing his weight loss and insisting that he go there for dinner after practice or evening games, he would have eaten countless more.
He cleared his throat, hating that his eyes burned with the memory. His voice hitched when he spoke. It was barely loud enough to carry between them. “When I was a kid, I used to have practice that went late a few times a week. Mum or Dad would pick me up, but they never saved me dinner if I wasn’t there to eat with them. Our parents must have been at opposite ends of the bell curve.”
King turned to face him, and the look in his eyes broke Liam. He didn’t want his pity, but that wasn’t what Liam saw. It was sadness and righteous anger. A tear slipped free and he laughed it off, wiping his cheek roughly with the heel of his palm. “Stupid emotions.”
King didn’t say a word, merely cupped his nape and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around Liam’s shoulder and giving him a safe place to land. He held tight, sinking into King’s embrace. He was bigger and broader than Liam, and all that muscle and warmth beckoned him to snuggle with the man. Liam never wanted to pull back. He wanted to memorize every sensation in case he never got to be close to King like this again.
“Your statistics joke was really bad,” he whispered, and Liam laughed for real this time. “I want you to come with me next time I eat at my parents’ house. They’d gladly add another place setting to their table any night of the week.” He pulled back and Liam mourned the loss of King’s big arms around him, until he rested both hands on his shoulders and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry you had such shitty parents. You deserved so much better.”
The warmth that spread through his chest crawled up his cheeks, and Liam looked down, embarrassed by suddenly being shy after giving King a glimpse of his less than spectacular childhood. “Will your mum try to feed me?” Liam mumbled.
“Whenever you walk in the door.”
“I’d like that.” And he really would. Having dinner with King had become the highlight of his day. He hated being alone, and it was easy with King. It felt… right. He liked who he was with King. “Before Addy gets back?”
King nodded then admitted with a whisper, “I miss her.”
He grasped King’s forearms, squeezing just like King did to him. He missed Addy too, her smile and her easy presence. Her absence had struck him hard. King being there eased it, but he still found himself looking for her. Wanting her there. “I miss her too.”
As if by unspoken agreement, they put aside their conversation and the heaviness that went with it and turned to Liam’s study notes. He worked on problems while King coached him. It was as if the course materials were a picture that was slowly coming into focus. With every question he understood and answered, the image became clearer.
Seventeen
Adelaide
A
delaide stretched her neck, releasing the tension there. She looked around the group of two instructors, and three other students. It was an intimate setting, but the lack of a crowd didn’t make things easier. If anything, it amped up the buzzing under her skin. She’d prepared for this, rehearsed endless hours of her presentation and the session she was leading on consent. Each of the students had done their own seminar, including a group workshop on the topic, but from a different perspective.
Mallory’s had been on consent under the influence. Jot had talked about new relationships and hook-ups, Alain had focussed on unprotected sex, STIs, and pregnancy. Hers was a different take again. Adelaide had planned an exercise on highlighting consent in existing relationships. Her question for the group was whether they were having sex because they wanted to, or because they subconsciously, or unconsciously, felt obliged to.
The room they were in was large and airy, three storeys up and overlooking a park. The half-height windows and gauzy curtains gave them privacy while letting in the light from the afternoon sun. Dust moats danced in the air as Adelaide stood and walked to the front of the room. The class was silent, waiting for her to begin. She smiled, a small tilt of her lips upward in acknowledgement for the encouragement the others had just given her.
She was the youngest in the class by far, and she had a lot to prove. Her instructors had already whispered between themselves questioning whether she had enough life experience to be a good coach. They were worried she wouldn’t be taken seriously. She appreciated their concern, but it was misplaced. Their responsibility was to assess her performance in the course, not her capacity to run a business. Pointing that out to them had been an uncomfortable conversation, but she didn’t appreciate being judged and found lacking before she’d even had a chance to present her assessment. They’d admitted her participation in the online forums had been exemplary, so erecting roadblocks now wasn’t something she was going to put up with.
