Chapter 14 #2
He nodded, but kept his mouth busy cleaning every trace of food from the container.
After tossing it into the bin, he moved to the sink and washed the few dishes left behind from the morning.
He didn’t realize he’d crawled into that space in his brain, the one that kept the past and present separate, until Heath chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“If I weren’t watching it happen, I’d never have believed you did dishes.”
Evan felt his mood turn and his core temperature return to normal. “I think your version of my life is a lot grander than reality.”
“So you’re not living in a beautifully restored, fully staffed townhouse on Beacon Street and driving an R8?”
He stopped scrubbing and shook his head with a huffed laugh. Goddamn this guy. “It’s an RS7. I do not have staff, and I’m not on Beacon Street.”
“But you’re close, aren’t you?” Heath grabbed a towel and started drying the dishes he’d placed on the mat beside the sink. It was so stupidly simple and domestic. Why was he enjoying it?
“There are several blocks between me and Beacon.”
He held out the last plate and Heath took it, their fingers brushing in the process. It was exactly the move he’d pulled on Hannah—on more than one woman during his lifetime—but this was the first time he understood why they sparkled like Twilight vampires afterward.
Have you lost your fucking mind?
“Define several.”
Evan sucked in his lips and looked at the floor. “A few.”
“A few?” Heath shoved the plate in with its friends on the wooden shelf above the counter and crossed his arms. “My God. You actually live on Beacon Hill?”
“For now.”
The truth was, he couldn’t picture living in the house he’d shared with Lucy after the trip was over. He loved the place; it was historical and amazing, but it was also theirs, and there was no they anymore. There was just him, and if he was starting from scratch, he was going scorched earth.
“I’m sure the traffic there is terrible, especially in the summer. You’d be much better off in Back Bay, or one of those swank new places in the Seaport.”
Evan ran his fingers through the wild waves of his hair. “Yeah, maybe.”
Heath sucked his teeth and retrieved the tea concoction from the freezer. “This is something my mother did for me as a kid when I’d overdo it outside.”
Heath’s tan was darker than some of the people who lived on the island year-round, and he’d only been there a few days. “What does it take for you to burn?”
Heath gave him a small smile. “I learned the hard way that liberal application of SPF is your friend.”
Evan gestured toward his torso. “Look at me. Do you think I went outside without any? I just forgot to reapply.”
“And now you’ll have to keep your clothes on. How will you ever lure all the women back here now?”
“I didn’t realize this was an open relationship.”
Heath snorted, his cheeks flushing pink as he grabbed a clean dishtowel and submerged it in the brew.
“Is that really what you think I’m about?” He wanted to know, but also didn’t.
Heath hadn’t been wrong; his first impression had been shit. He’d told himself he didn’t care, because Heath was just some guy sitting next to him on a plane, but maybe that wasn’t so true. Maybe this was a PBS lesson about never knowing where a chance meeting might take you.
“I’m sure you also eat babies for breakfast, or something equally lawyerish.”
He laughed, both relieved and disappointed he hadn’t answered the question.
“I do not eat babies for breakfast.”
“Lunch, then?”
“You’re an asshole. You know that?”
Heath’s smile was radiant. It was the first time Evan had seen him look genuinely relaxed. “I’ll have you know I’m delightful company ninety-eight percent of the time.”
“So, I’m the lucky two percent?”
“I’m pretty sure anyone living on Beacon Hill is in the one percent.”
“Asshole.”
Heath bit his lip and turned his attention to wringing out the kitchen towel. “Enough with the pillow talk. Turn around.”
Evan gave the towel a look. What the hell was an iced tea rag going to do that everything else he’d tried hadn’t? But he obeyed, and let out a whooshing gasp of breath when Heath placed the cloth across his shoulders.
It was like ice, but without the pinpricks. It calmed his skin and wrapped him in the scent of fresh mint. He leaned his forearms against the cool stone of the counter as Heath placed another towel down. This one covered from the bottom of his shoulder blades to his waist, and it felt exquisite.
“Holy shit. That’s so good.”
“I hear that a lot,” Heath muttered, flashing an angelic smile in response to Evan’s impressed glance. The guy kept surprising him.
“Whatever that shit is, it’s amazing,” Evan mumbled against his forearms. Heath chuckled.
“It’s chamomile and mint. Nature’s ice pack.”
“I love nature.”
“Is there any woman you aren’t trying to seduce?”
“One in particular comes to mind.”
“Ah, right. Fair.”
Heath removed the first towel and dipped it back into the tea. “I suppose I owe you the details of my own bullshit.”
“You don’t owe me anything, but I won’t say I’m not curious.”
He sighed, placing the towel back with gentle hands. “I know I’ve been…”
“An asshole?” Evan offered, and Heath squawked.
“I’d prefer less than charitable.”
“Sure, we’ll go with that.”
Heath chewed his lip and removed the second towel, dunking into the pot for another soak.
“You already know I was supposed to take this trip with a friend.”
“Just a friend?”
“Mostly.”
“Ah, one of those friends.”
“Alas, not really.”
Evan turned to look over his shoulder, and Heath looked away. He flushed so readily, it made teasing him even more satisfying.
“We went to college together, and there were a few instances of… experimentation on his part with other people.”
“But not with you.”
Heath shook his head and replaced the second towel. The relief caused Evan’s brain to go momentarily offline.
“It’s a long, complicated, and boring story, but the summary is, I thought inviting me here meant we might… y’know…”
“Fuck?”
“Jesus, Westin.”
Evan dropped his head back onto his arms to bury the smile.
“We’d kissed once, and he’d made it seem like something he’d wanted to do for a long time. I thought maybe he’d be open to doing it long term.”
“But he ghosted you.”
Heath sighed. “He eloped with some woman I don’t think he’d known for more than a week.”
Evan stood so quickly, both towels hit the floor. “Are you serious?”
“I’m not in the habit of crafting stories about myself, but if I were, they wouldn’t be pathetic and embarrassing. But yes, that’s why I’m being a miserable crab to everyone.”
The gnawing returned. “Not everyone. Just me.”
“Right. I’ve been thinking about that too.”
He chewed his lip some more, and Evan caught himself staring. Did sun poisoning make you delirious? Maybe he needed to check with Marta about having a doctor come visit.
“See, my friend is relatively well-off, and I’ve dated friends of his who fall under the same umbrella.”
“The I drive an R8 umbrella?”
“Um, yes.”
“Ah.” Heath’s us slip during the Hannah tirade came into better focus. “And I’m no better, is that it?”
He shook his head. “I thought so, or I tried to, but not anymore.”
“What changed?”
Heath bit his lip. “I realized I like you too much to hate you.”
Evan stalled, captured by Heath’s cerulean eyes.
He couldn’t stop noticing them. When had he ever paid so much attention to another man’s eyes?
Hell, when had he paid attention to another man’s anything?
He could barely picture Owen’s face, let alone his eye color, and he’d known that bastard for over ten years.
“I… thanks.”
They stood staring at one another for several beats before Heath abruptly turned to retrieve the towels from the floor. “You should go to bed while you’re cooled off. I can make another batch tomorrow if you need it.”
Evan nodded dumbly, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Yes, he needed sleep. At least twelve hours, and maybe he should drink a few gallons of water, because something in his head clearly wasn’t working right after all the sun he’d gotten.
Things had changed between them tonight. He’d felt the persistent animosity shift into something else, something that felt an awful lot like chemistry. Except not the platonic kind, which was an unexpected a problem.
The even bigger problem was how much he liked it.