Jory was six reps into his second set of hammer curls when his phone rang. The familiar jingle of his cousin’s ringtone echoed off the metal gym equipment and Jory cursed. Shit. It was Thursday, wasn’t it? It was game night and he’d totally spaced it. He’d been so caught up in Thiessen that his thoughts were a tangled mess of heartstrings and headphone wires.

Setting the weights down, he got off the bench. He swiped a towel over his sweaty face and made a grab for his phone, picking it up on the last ring. He’d no sooner opened his mouth to apologize when Jaren’s voice came grating across the line like sandpaper.

“Dude. Where the fuck are you? I’ve been sitting outside your place for twenty minutes.” Irritation dripped off too-sharp words. Jory grimaced. He sounded pissed. Probably not at Jory, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take it out on him. The Greyson temper ran hot in Jaren’s blood.

“Sorry, man. Total accident. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Yes you do, his traitorous mind taunted him. You were thinking about Thiessen Ward and all the dirty things you’d like to do to him, now weren’t you? Jory suppressed a groan. “Is everything okay? You sound upset.”

Jaren snorted. “No shit?”

Jory squeezed his cell phone between his shoulder and his ear to free up both hands. He folded his sweat towel over and wiped his face again, then stuffed it into his bag. He blew out a breath that hissed static over the line. “I’m at the gym. I’m gonna take off now. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.”

“The spare key is under the garden gnome that sits at the back door—the one with the yellow vest and the handlebar mustache.” He loved that stupid gnome. He’d seen him at the hardware store one day last fall and got a chuckle. He was on clearance and Jory knew he could’t leave without him, so he named him Robbie Redbeard and stuck him on the back porch. The keeper of the key. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay. Bye.” The line went dead. End of conversation.

Jory sighed and grabbed his gym bag and his water bottle off the bench. He needed to wash up in the locker room and change back into his scrubs. Jaren would have to sit tight and wait until he got there. It would give him time to crack open a beer and chill out a little, if nothing else.

Only two years younger than Jory, they’d grown up together. They’d graduated from playing cops and robbers and running laps around Grandma Mimi’s house, to always trying to one-up each other in video games. Jaren was his best friend and his right-hand man—and someday, he’d be his best man. He was the Luigi to Jory’s Mario and Jory couldn’t imagine his life without him, even if he was an asshole sometimes.

Stripping from his sweat-drenched tank and jersey shorts, Jaren cranked the water in the small shower stall to hot and stepped inside. He tugged the curtain closed and moved beneath the low-pressured spray spitting out of the shower head, humming at the delicious burn. He made quick work of the bar of soap in his hand, sudsing up and rinsing off just as fast.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out onto the rubber mat. It took him all of five minutes to scrub himself dry and pull his work clothes back on. Then, shoving everything into his mesh gym bag, he slipped his feet into his sneakers and took off.

Jaren’s old Cutlass sat at the edge of the drive when Jory pulled up, his headlights gleaming over the faded navy paint. Up at the house, the lights were on. Jory killed the engine and jogged up the six cement steps to the front door, hitting the lock button on his keyfob as he went. His alarm system did its little beep-boop thing and Felicity alarm-barked. But she wasn’t the only one. A higher, tinnier voice yapped like mad alongside his husky’s booming bass.

Jory frowned. The only time Jaren brought his dog along was when he and his roommate-slash-secret-boyfriend were fighting. Had they gone rounds again? Jesus, no wonder his cousin had sounded so pissy. He unlocked the door and went inside to be greeted by Felicity and Rummy, who went wild.

From the living room, he could hear the murmur of the TV. He hung his keys up on the hook and kicked off his shoes by the door. Rummy, Jaren’s very round wiener dog, waddled in circles at Jory’s feet, his tail smacking against his legs.

“Hey, chunky-butt.” He bent down and scooped up all nineteen pounds of the supposedly “miniature” Dachshund. With short red fur and almond-shaped brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black, Rummy was the most expressive dog that Jory had ever met. He knew how to perk his ears and cock his head to make the girls swoon.

“Hey.” Jaren shuffled into the kitchen wearing rumpled clothing and an even more-rumpled expression. His shoulders formed a tight, straight line and his lips were cast in a scowl. “…Sorry. Shouldn’t have snapped at you on the phone, I’m just… Jesus fucking Christ, Jor.” He raked his hands through his brown hair roughly.

Jory frowned, still cradling Rummy to his chest. “That bad, cuz?” He kept his voice low and smooth; it was the same tone he used to soothe Thiessen whenever his anxiety reared its ugly head. Cool, calm, quiet. It always helped.

Jaren hung his head, his chin dropping to his chest, and he sighed. “Yeah. It’s whatever. We had a fight for the third fucking time this week and it’s bullshit. Always the same shit, rehashed over and over again. Whatever.”

“You need a hug?” Jory offered a small smile.

His cousin snorted out a laugh. “Not in the mood.”

“Fair. So what’s Taylor all up in arms about now?”

Jory decided to wade into darker waters; might as well face what lurked beneath. Taylor was Jaren’s dirty little secret and that was no doubt the cause of their issues. Their relationship was a wound teeming with infection and it needed to be drained, sooner rather than later, or the life they’d made for themselves would end up dying.

Rummy squirmed, so Jory put him down. Felicity took off running through the house and the fat dachshund waddle-sprinted after her, barking his fool head off all the way down the hall.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” Jaren set his jaw. “Can we just…game? Please? I need a distraction.”

“Sure. You want something to eat? I’m starving. I have leftover pork chops?” He pulled a container out of the fridge and peeled off the lid. He stuck a couple on a plate and threw them in the microwave.

Jaren shook his head. “I’ll go start the game.”

Jory stuck a fork in his mountain of meat and joined him on the couch. His stomach clenched hungrily and he made quick work of the pork chops. He dumped the bones in the trash where Felicity couldn’t reach, then washed his hands so he wouldn’t get grease all over his controller. That was the surest way for his dog to use it as an expensive chew toy.

The sound of gunshots and explosions filled the living room as the men dove into their game. Where Jory leaned back and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, Jaren sat perched at the very edge of the couch, aggressively mashing the buttons beneath his fingers.

When he died, Jaren chucked the controller. “Fuck!”

Jory paused the game, frowning. “Dude, for real. You need to spill. Rant, rampage, whatever. Get it off your chest. I promise you, once you do, you’ll feel better.”

Jaren snarled at him, crossing both arms across his chest and tucking his hands into his armpits, hunched over where he sat. “It’s stupid. It’s always fucking stupid, but no matter how much we yell at each other, it ends the same, with one of us storming out. I’m so sick of the stress. I’ve got a goddamn ulcer.”

Jory grimaced. “Damn.”

“Yeah. Damn.” His cousin heaved a sigh.

“Why do you stay then, if you’re so miserable?”

Jaren glanced up, almost startled. “I’m not miserable!” He didn’t look so certain, though.

“Jare, no offense, but yeah you are. You’ve been in a foul mood since the holidays, cuz. If Taylor’s causing you this much grief, dump his ass. No guy is worth it, no matter how sexy they might be. Your health is worth more than that.”

Jaren huffed. “It’s not that easy!”

It was Jory’s turn to sigh, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t know the details of their relationship; all he knew was that Jaren had met Taylor at college and when Taylor was down and out, Jaren invited him to move in.

For years, they’d played up the whole roommate thing while dating behind closed doors, and Jory got it, he really did. His aunt and uncle weren’t exactly the most accepting people in the world when it came down to it, but things changed. People changed. They were still his parents.

“Is he still pressuring you to come out?” Jory asked.

Jaren pinned him with an almost frantic look. “I’m not ready. I’ve told him that so many times that it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I can’t. I can’t do it right now.” His face pinched with anxiety. “And if he brings up my brother one more damn time, I’m gonna scream, Jor. I will fucking scream.”

Jory was quiet for a long while, ghosting his fingertips over the molded plastic of his controller. “It’s not the end of the world, you know. Coming out. You parents didn’t burn Kit at the stake or anything when he came out, so why are you afraid?”

His cousin set his jaw. “Because. I’m not Kit.”

“I know that.”

“I’m the golden boy. Straight A student, track-and-field star. I was the goddamn valedictorian of my class. My parents have put me on a pedestal my entire life and they would freak. I know they would. They would be so—” He cut himself off with a quick shake of his head, but Jory knew exactly what he was going to say.

They would be so disappointed.

“So, going back to Taylor. Why do you stay? If you don’t plan to come out and all you do is fight over it, maybe it’s healthier if you two parted ways. Just a thought.”

Jaren looked down at his hands as his fingers twisted together in his lap. “It’s… I love him. Maybe that’s stupid, but I do and when it’s good it’s so great, but when it’s bad? I end up screaming till my voice is raw and then we end up having hate-sex and it’s a fucking mess.” He laughed, sharp and bitter.

“Perhaps you could try couple’s counseling?”

Jaren glared at him. “That’s what Taylor keeps saying, because I’m so “unrealistic and crazy,” quote-unquote. I’m just tired, Jor. I’m sick and tired and my stomach hates me and I can’t sleep and it sucks.” His shoulders sagged with one last heavy sigh. “Fuck.”

Jory patted his arm. “You’re the only one who can change it, you know. It’s your life and it’s your decision, but I hate seeing you like this. I hate it, cuz. You worry me. I love you. You’re my best friend and I want you to be happy.”

Jaren’s lip twitched up at one corner, a halfway-there smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What about you? You seem happy.”

This time, Jory was the one to grin. “I am happy. Life is good.”

“Wait—are you dating again?”

“I’ll never tell.”

“You are!” Jaren twisted around in his seat so that he was facing Jory and it was like his frustrations all but melted away. “I unleashed my wrath on you, so now it’s your turn. Spill.”

“Where do I start?”

Thiessen was using Lady Luck as an excuse to come visit Jory at work. He knew it, Jory knew it, and by the way Hemi and the girls giggled and smiled at him when he came through the front doors damn near every day, he knew they knew it too, but fuck it. He didn’t lose a leg to be locked back in the closet. So what if they knew? What did it matter? Who was he hiding from, anyway?

You deserve to be happy. Peri’s words of wisdom fluttered through his mind. He was beginning to think that maybe she was right. Hell, maybe she’d been right all along and he’d been too wrapped up in regret to see it. He was tired of wearing his grief like a blanket. All it did was smother him. When Jory smiled at him, it made him want more.

In fact, for the first time in four years, It made him want a future.

“Hey there, Thiessen. You’re here early.” Hemi came around the corner with a steaming Brew You cup in his hands. Thiessen couldn’t quite fight back the grin.

Once upon a time, Peri had tried—and failed—to set Thiessen and Hemi up together. Seemed she thought her gay coworker and her gay best friend might make a cute pair. It might’ve worked, too—except it was blatantly obvious to him that Hemi was hardcore crushing on someone else. Now it seemed that man of his was spoiling Hemi rotten. Exactly what he deserved, too.

He nodded his head towards the styrofoam cup. “Kit bring you breakfast?”

Hemi’s face flushed in shades of pink, but his smile was one of bliss. “Of course. I’ve got him wrapped around my little finger.” To prove his point, he wiggled his pinky and took another long sip of his coffee. Thiessen chuckled. The look Hemi pinned on him was sly. “Kinda like someone else I know.”

Thiessen’s ears got a little warm, but he didn’t bother to deny it. “Sure. Don’t think Jory and I are quite at your level yet.”

“Not yet,” Hemi agreed with a sage nod, and then a wink. “But give it time. Before you know it, you’ll be jumping his bones every chance you get. Trust me. Been there, done that—in fact, still there.” He flashed an ornery smile and Thiessen raised a hand to ward off any naughty personal information Hemi was about to let spill. Hemi giggled. “Go see your man,” he said with a wave. “And leave me to this amazing coffee.”

Thiessen scoffed, but as he headed down the hall, he found himself smiling. Jumping his bones every chance he got, huh? He was already doing plenty of that in his dreams—and in his book. God, he’d never written such horndog characters in his life. He and Jory hadn’t so much as kissed since the other night, but it had been enough to crank all of Thiessen’s knobs to scalding hot.

He had it bad.

“Hey, stranger!” Jory’s smile was sunny. Without a moment of hesitation, Thiessen collided with the man’s chest. His arms wrapped around Jory to hug him tight and Jory replied by whispering a kiss over his ear. “You here to see Lady Luck?” It was a too-innocent question, paired with a smirk.

Thiessen snorted softly. “You know why I’m here, jerk.”

“Psh, of course I do. Your puppy’s been howling all morning. I think she’s more than ready to bust this joint and sleep cuddled up next to her human in bed.” He winked and breezed past Thiessen to lead the way down the back hall. “Can’t say that I blame her.”

Sure enough, the moment the dog saw Thiessen she began to howl like mad once more. Thiessen unlatched the metal gate and swung it open and she came barreling out as fast as her three stubby legs could carry her. She collided with his shins, clawing at his jean-clad legs while begging to be held.

Thiessen gently scooped the pup off the tile floor and cradled her to his chest. She whined and wiggled closer, attacking his face with slobbery kisses. “You wanna come home with your daddy?” he crooned, rubbing her behind the ears with two fingers. She practically turned to putty in his arms.

In the short time he’d come to know the little dog, their connection still surprised him. It was like she was attuned to his every emotion, pressing her skinny body against him whenever he felt anxious, or nudging his face with her pointy muzzle when his mind started wandering to not-so-nice thoughts. He felt a kinship with the three-legged dog, who refused to let her disability get her down.

In fact, Thiessen wasn’t even sure he could classify her loss of a limb a disability. She didn’t seem to notice that it was missing, especially not when it came to dinnertime. She was running and romping with the rest of them, her long ears flapping in the wind. If anything, being stuck in a cage was only hindering her progress and Thiessen knew.

It was time.

“What do you think about helping me bring her home sometime next week?”

Jory’s brows jumped up, but his smile didn’t waver. “Of course, Thee. Whenever you’re ready, just say the word and I’ll be there. Not gonna lie, though, I’m gonna miss you coming around to see her.”

Thiessen rolled his eyes. “Please. We both know the real reason I come around here.” They’d definitely crossed into more-than-friends territory with that kiss and as daunting as that was, it also lit a spark deep inside of him that roared into a wildfire whenever he thought of that moment. He wanted a repeat performance. And another. And another. God, he wanted more than that, even.

“In that case. You wanna go get lunch and see a movie?”

Thiessen blinked. “When? Now?”

“Noon? We can catch the one-fifteen showing of whatever you wanna see,” Jory drawled with a wink and butterflies exploded to life inside Thiessen’s belly. His muscles quivered at the thought of the two of them, together, in the middle of a pitch-dark theatre. It was practically an invitation for a make-out session and Thiessen found himself firmly on board. Jory seemed to notice, too, because his grin was wicked. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Thiessen breathed. “Suddenly, I’m starving.”

Jory chuckled. “Of course you are. I’ll leave you two alone and finish up my paperwork. Don’t think I’ll be coming back in today.” The way he said it, with a growl to his words, had Thiessen’s engine revving. He knew exactly what they were getting themselves into.

To his surprise, the anxiety he felt in that moment was purely anticipation. The vet gave a wave and shut the door behind him. Lady Luck leaned on his chest, her tail whapping against his side, and Thiessen let out a happy sigh.

“Guess you really are Lucky, huh?” he mused, kissing the soft velvet of her ear flap. She licked him in the nose before he could pull back, weaseling her tongue up one nostril. He squealed and hugged her closer. “Brat. I think you’re gonna give Dustfeather a run for his money.” RIP his grouchy asshole of a cat. This pup had spunk.

He spent an hour playing with her, tossing her stuffed bear across the floor to watch her run madly over to it, pounce it, and then shake it as hard as she could. Her ears flapped inside out and she proudly trotted back over to him with that ever-present wag that made her whole back end wiggle.

It wasn’t until Jory poked his head back into the room that Thiessen gathered her toys and gently closed her up in her cage. The moment the door latched, she began to wail mournfully, her head thrown back. Wooo woo wooo!

“Aww, baby. Soon. I promise.” He stuck his fingers through the grate to scratch her neck, then stood. “Ready?”

“Of course,” Jory replied. Thiessen noticed that he’d traded his rubber ducky scrubs for a cozy-looking red flannel and a well-worn pair of blue jeans. Thiessen also didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was openly checking out his not-quite-boyfriend. When their eyes met, Jory’s laugh rumbled low and warm, filling Thiessen’s heart to the brim. “I love it when you look at me like that.”

“Yeah?” Thiessen replied, grabbing his coat off the back of the chair before following Jory through the office. “Like what?” His voice dropped to a hush. He let out a soft gasp when Jory spun on him in the hallway, pressing him back against the wall. The man leaned in until his breath ghosted over Thiessen’s lips and his pulse spiked. Kiss me…

“Like this,” Jory murmured thickly. He stepped back and dragged a roving gaze down the front of Thiessen’s self and back up again. The glint in his dark eyes was hungry. Thiessen groaned without even being touched, suddenly desperate for a taste. Jory’s broad body bumped up against his, their chests rubbing together, and the man captured Thiessen’s lips in a kiss that sent a shiver racing through him. “Like that.”

“I like that,” Thiessen uttered, his toes curling in his shoes.

“I know, sweetheart,” Jory said, pecking him once more for good measure before springing away. “So! Lunch! I was thinking we could go to the Sundance Diner. Mags’s specials are to die for on Fridays. I’ll be honest, though, I don’t even know what’s showing at the theatre right now. I’ve been too wrapped up in a certain someone to even think about new releases, and that’s saying something.”

He winked and took Thiessen’s hand, dragging him out the door and down the steps to where his SUV was parked. Thiessen groaned as they buckled up. “You’re seriously gonna make me sit through lunch?” Because the only thing he wanted to eat was grinning wickedly at him from behind the steering wheel.

“Yep. I’m starving,” Jory said, matter-of-fact. Pulling out of the lot, he rested his large hand on Thiessen’s thigh, the sudden warmth causing his heart to jump when Jory squeezed. “We can’t make out on an empty stomach. Pretty sure there’s a rule about that somewhere.”

Thiessen barked out a laugh. “Cocky, much?”

“Sweetheart, we both know there will be very little movie-watching going on,” Jory replied with an innocent smile. Thiessen smacked his chest, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading. The man’s enthusiasm was catching and Thiessen loved him for it.

He barely tasted his lunch. He was too absorbed in watching Jory make love to his turkey manhattan. As the man finished up with a clatter of silverware on dishes, he leaned back in his seat. “You’d better not fall asleep on me during the movie, mister,” Thiessen warned.

“Mmm, I dunno. I am feeling like I could use a nap.” Jory flashed a quick smile. Thiessen wadded up a napkin and chucked it at him. It bounced to the floor and they both laughed. Jory snatched up the bill before Thiessen could argue, but he didn’t. Slowly but surely, he was relaxing into this whole “spoiling” thing. He merely fluttered his lashes and blazed the way back to the car.

Just as Thiessen had expected, the theatre was a ghost town. A couple of teens who were obviously skipping school shuffled around the concession stand, but beyond that, it was empty. Even the attendants looked bored. Jory bought a couple tickets for some penguin documentary that they were showing—because who was gonna watch a penguin documentary at one-fifteen on a Friday afternoon?

Hand in hand, they wound down the red-carpeted halls, passing huge glossy movie posters and a cardboard cutout of one of those ugly yellow minion things. The theatre was dark and cozy, their path lit by a thin strand of blue tube lighting. Jory tugged on Thiessen’s arm, leading him all the way up to the very top. Previews played on the big screen as they settled in and when the movie began, Thiessen’s belly jumped with nerves.

Jory squeezed his hand where it lay on the arm rest. His teeth flashed white in the dark of the theatre and Thiessen leaned in close. “Remember. No napping,” he whispered. He’d be damned if he had to sit through a freaking penguin show while Jory snored off the turkey.

The man chuckled and leaned in. “Better find ways of keeping me awake then, huh, darling boy.” His breath fluttered in Thiessen’s ear right before he nibbled the lobe. Thiessen shivered and traced his fingers down Jory’s stubbled jaw, focused on the swell of the man’s lips. Jory’s tongue peeked out to wet them and Thiessen’s chest thumped.

Bolstering his courage, Thiessen shifted his weight and swung his leg over Jory’s lap, settling there, suddenly closer than they’d ever been. Jory’s broad palms slid slowly down his sides to rest at his hips, drawing him in. Thiessen rose up on his knees and caught the older man’s face between both hands. This time, he was the one to make the first move.

As their lips met, Jory hummed in pleasure and tilted his face up. With each gentle yet roaming slide of their mouths, heat burned inside of Thiessen, threatening to send him up in flames. He doubted that even the sprinkler system would be able to cool him down and with a soft moan, he slid his tongue along the seam of Jory’s mouth.

Jory’s lips parted to welcome him in. Thiessen gasped into it and everything was forgotten but the taste of desire and the slow tangle of tongues as they explored one another. The movie faded into white noise, because suddenly all he could focus on was the warmth that hummed between them, Jory’s hands gripping his sides and his mouth roving hungrily down Thiessen’s throat, sucking at his skin to leave a mark behind, but fuck it.

Thiessen didn’t care. It felt right and that’s all that mattered.