Boyfriend for Rent (6 page)

Casey shrugged. He hadn’t really thought about it, but he supposed that was the way he felt. Hunter was the kind of guy who probably hadn’t spent most of middle school hoping to avoid getting shoved into his locker, or had teachers trying not to laugh when kids mimicked his voice and way of speaking.

Hunter leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face, as if he were weighing some choice. After almost two full minutes, he spoke, “I suppose I didn’t have the same problems as you growing up, but there are other things people can be just as cruel about.” He ran his fingers through his hair and scowled,
although Casey knew the expression wasn’t really directed at him. “School was tough for me. Always was. Taking care of animals, farming, fixing stuff, all that I learned easy, but numbers and writing and reading? All that was hard for me. I never sounded smart, so everybody assumed I was stupid. I got put in the dumb classes. I was big enough kids didn’t try to push me around, but they’d talk about things and act like I couldn’t understand. And some of the time, I didn’t. A group of ‘em once came up and started talkin’ about this book, and I pretended I’d read it. They let me keep going, all the while laughin’ at me. I found out it wasn’t real when I told my teacher I was gonna do a book report on it. She almost laughed at me too. I could see it in her eyes.”

He fell silent and Casey waited for him to continue. When it became obvious that he was done, Casey asked, “What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened?” Hunter asked. “I took the dumb classes and graduated. Never bothered with school again. Would’ve dropped out if I hadn’t promised my mama on her deathbed that I’d finish school.”

Casey stared. He’d never imagined that big, strong Hunter would be insecure about anything. In just the short time he’d known Hunter, he’d come to think of the other man as indestructible,
almost a force of nature.

“Anyway
,” Hunter cleared his throat, “don’t matter now. I have my own place, work my own land, and I don’t care about what those hoity-toity pricks from high school think about me.” He gave Casey a look that somehow managed to be tough and vulnerable at the same time. “That’s what this means.” He touched the space above his heart and Casey knew he meant the tattoo. “It means believe. Reminds me to believe in myself, ‘cause that’s what matters.” He stood. “Keep that ice on your thumb 'til it melts.”

Casey watched as Hunter went back outside. The pain in his thumb had faded to the back of his mind as he processed what had just happened. Hunter had opened up to him, shared something more personal than anything McDermott had ever told him. Even when the two of them had been in high school together, stealing kisses when they knew what it would mean if they were caught, McDermott had never really shared. The night
, when he’d given his virginity to the young man he loved, he had known, deep down, that there was a part of McDermott that he’d never know, no matter how hard he tried. McDermott had always said that revealing too much made you look weak in the other person’s eyes. Now, Casey realized that wasn’t true. Hunter didn’t look weak. If anything, he seemed stronger than ever, having overcome the stigma he’d been given. The vulnerability Casey had sensed hadn’t been about Hunter’s past, but about how Casey would take the story, if he would use it for further pain.

Casey shook his head. The idea that he could do anything to hurt Hunter was ludicrous. Hunter was his friend. The first real friend he’d ever had. Still, he looked where his skin was still tingling from Hunter’s fingers
: what he was feeling wasn’t mere friendship. It wasn’t even plain old lust, although there was plenty of that when Casey looked at Hunter. This was something deeper and much more frightening.

             
Casey had a bad feeling that he was falling in love with Hunter.

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 16

His thirty days were up and none of the places where he’d put in applications had called. Casey had been doing everything he could around the house to prove to Hunter that he wasn’t freeloading, but as his deadline approached, his fear grew. If Hunter kicked him out, Casey didn’t know what he would do,
or where he would go.

He hadn’t slept at all the night before, trying to think of something that he could use to convince Hunter to let him stay. Finally, just as the sun was coming up, his near-
feverish brain had come up with something so crazy that it just might work. Or, at least it had seemed like a good idea an hour ago. Now that he was showered and getting ready to go downstairs, he couldn’t imagine this working. He reminded himself of what Hunter had said about the tattoo and believing in himself, but it didn’t work. He just couldn’t find enough to get rid of his self-doubt.

He sighed. He didn’t really have much of a choice about presenting his proposal to Hunter. It was all he had. Something was better than nothing. Besides, it wasn’t like Hunter would kick him out twice for proposing something stupid. He hurried down the stairs before he could lose his nerve, the paper clutched in his hand. Even though he’d been up all night, Hunter still beat him to the kitchen. Bacon and eggs were already on the stove. They were one of the few things Hunter could cook.

“Morning,” Hunter said.

Casey nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a gulp before it cooled, scalding his tongue. He sat down, gathered his courage, and started to speak. “It’s been thirty days, and I’ve been trying to find a job, but no one’s hiring. I know you said I needed to contribute, so I made a list.” He smoothed the crumpled paper out on the table. “I figured if you
'd let me take over all of the responsibilities of cooking and shopping, I can save you at least fifty to a hundred dollars a week by cutting out all of the prepared and processed food. Since the food will be healthier, it could make you more productive, which would allow you to get more work done.” He knew he was reaching on that one, but Hunter didn’t stop him. In fact, Hunter didn’t do anything but keep at the bacon and eggs. Casey kept going. “If you add to that all of the cleaning responsibilities, that frees up more time for you, again allowing you to get more work done. I can also run all of the errands, and help with any extra projects as you need.” He pushed the paper towards the other side of the table. “I went online and checked all of the studies that put a monetary value to household work. What I’m offering to do actually comes out to over five hundred dollars a month, and that isn’t counting the grocery money saved.”

Hunter carried two plates from the stove, both loaded up with bacon and eggs. He set them down, one in front of Casey, the other in front of his own seat. He sat down, then glanced at the paper as Casey waited in silence. Finally, Hunter shrugged. “Sounds fair to me.” He turned his attention to his food as Casey tried not to show just how relieved he was.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice tight.

Hunter nodded. “While you’re cooking, I wouldn’t mind a hamburger every now and then.”

Casey nodded. “Of course.” If it meant he could stay, he’d cook Hunter a hamburger every single night. Even if his food was as mediocre as McDermott had claimed, he could still manage a hamburger, and anything was better than the garbage Hunter had been eating.

Casey shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth, resisting the urge to look up when he felt Hunter’s eyes on him. He’d never been able to do that before
: sense when someone was looking at him. With Hunter, though, it seemed like every passing day made Casey more aware of the other man’s presence. He knew it was dangerous to stay, but the thought of leaving tore him up. He could keep it platonic.

Hunter’s fingers brushed against his as they both reached for the salt at the same time. Casey felt a jolt travel up his arm, tightening his stomach in a very non-platonic way. His hand tightened around his fork and he told himself again that he could do this. Hunter was his friend, nothing more, and it didn’t matter how much he wanted things to be different
: it wasn’t possible, and he was just going to have to live with that.

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 17

H
unter swung into the hardware store’s parking lot and zipped aggressively into a space. The tires squealed and rang throughout the air.
That is totally Hunter
, Casey thought. The two of them hopped out of the dingy old pickup truck and headed inside. It was actually the first time he’d ever stepped foot in a store like that. Casey wasn’t exactly the outdoorsy type, but the more he hung out with Hunter, the more he began to appreciate it.

“You gonna cook some of that spaghetti of yours?” Hunter asked, pulling the handle of a rusty shopping cart out of the rack.

“Why?” Casey asked, stepping next to him.

“Liked it.”

Casey smiled. He knew how hard it was for Hunter to express himself, and he knew a few words went a long way with him. He’d taken over cooking duties pretty quickly, but that had been out of necessity. Last week, when he’d officially become the cook, he’d started feeling the familiar twisting in his stomach that had accompanied his last few months of meals with McDermott. The compliments had stopped and then the snide remarks had begun. If Hunter had been even a decent cook, Casey doubted he would’ve started again. Over the last couple weeks, he’d tried more and more elaborate dishes, carefully watching for any sign of distaste. While he usually just got a half-smile as Hunter wolfed down a plate or two, every once in a while, Hunter said something and Casey clung to those moments. He looked at Hunter. He didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, but the truth was, he could have looked at the other man for days.

They weaved through the store and made their way through the drill bit aisles when something caught Casey’s attention.

It was McDermott.

He froze, wanting to turn the other way as his heart stopped. But it was too late. McDermott spotted him.

“Casey?” he asked.

Casey swallowed, took a deep breath, and hoped it was all a bad dream.

“Who’s that?” Hunter asked.

“My ex,” Casey answered. He hunched his shoulders as if that could protect him. “Shit. What do I do?”

“Chicken shit motherfucker,” he glared. His hands closed into fists.

“Calm down, Hunter,” Casey said, eyes widening.

It was the first time Casey had ever heard Hunter sound that angry before, and he kind of liked it.

“Just see what he wants,” Hunter suggested, the scowl on his face saying he didn’t really like what he was saying. He added, “Want me to beat the
...?”

“No, I’ll just meet you at the cash register. This will be quick
,” Casey said. He straightened. He couldn’t be a wuss about this. He had to be a man and show McDermott that he was moving on. That thought didn’t do anything to keep his heart from pounding or his palms from sweating. He rubbed his hands on his pants.

Hunter reluctantly agreed as Casey made his way toward McDermott, trying to put on a brave face and as warm and relaxed of a smile as he could, but his feet felt
heavy enough to pull him over. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Good to see you,” McDermott said.

“How are you?” Casey asked.

“Just getting s
ome things for around the house,” McDermott said. He smirked. “I see you still haven’t learned how to lower your voice at all.”

“Um, well,” Casey said, unsure of what to say. There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them for what felt like forever. Beads of sweat trickled across Casey’s brow. He was standing too close. He could smell the spicy cologne McDermott always wore
, and it pulled him back to their life together: the nights when Casey would bury his face against his lover’s neck and deeply breathe in that scent. Then there was the way Casey’s clothes had always smelled like it too, so much so that McDermott had insisted that Casey make comments about how he and McDermott wore the same cologne.

Casey swallowed hard. Maybe he wasn’t as over McDermott as he’d thought. “Well, I
'd better get going.”

“What are you doing here?” McDermott as
ked. It was just like him to try to get the last word.

“Just getting some things,” Casey said, purposely sounding vague. He shuffled his feet, hoping the conversation could end right there.

“Things? So, where are you living?”

“Why do you ask?” Casey replied.

“I’ve been so busy lately. Haven’t gotten a chance to check on you.”

“That’s nice. That you’ve been so busy,” Casey said.

“Um, Casey. So, I just...” McDermott chuckled nervously. “I’m kind of glad we ran into each other. God works in mysterious ways. Just wanted to let you know that, I’m kind of seeing someone.”

It felt like a knife to Casey’s chest. It’d only been a month and he
'd already moved on? He pushed aside the thought that he’d been ready to make McDermott think the same thing.

“Oh,” Casey said, his throat suddenly going dry. “Good.”

“Just wanted you to know.” McDermott glanced over his shoulder like he was still worrying that people would ‘know’ because he was talking to Casey.