Boyfriend for Rent (8 page)

That wasn’t going to work with Hunter. And not just the sex part. Casey had a feeling that Hunter wasn’t the kind of guy who wanted begging. The problem was, Casey didn’t know what would work. He’d tried making Hunter’s favorite foods. Spaghetti. Hamburgers. Hunter had just taken the food and gone into the living room to eat in front of the television, ignoring Casey when he joined
him. Casey had also tried talking to Hunter at different times while they were working together. While they were eating. When Hunter was rubbing down the horses. All attempts were met either with a cold look and silence or by Hunter simply walking away.

Then there was something worse that kept popping up in Casey’s mind.

Casey couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made Hunter angry enough to be kicked out of the house - or worse - to lose him as a friend. He suddenly felt badly about the whole thing and wanted to rewind time to how things were before, but he couldn’t. He’d made that wish thousands of times in his life, listing all of the things he’d have changed. His brother enlisting. Letting McDermott talk him out of going to culinary school. Staying with McDermott as long as he had, while knowing, deep down, that things were never going to go any further. Now he just had one more thing to add to it.

He sat on his bed, looking
down at the notebook he’d bought to use to make lists to keep himself organized. There was one other thing he could try, but the thought terrified him. He’d been a decent student in school, but there had been one class in which he’d always excelled: English. His teachers had always told him that he had an excellent grasp of the English language, and how to put words together in a way that flowed naturally and beautifully. Unfortunately, that hadn’t always carried over to when he spoke, as his recent predicament proved. He knew, though, if he tried writing down his apology, he could make it all clear. He also knew that if Hunter refused to read it, they were done. He’d be out of options. He also knew that while he’d be able to hide his romantic feelings for Hunter, he would have to expose just how much the other man meant to him, even if only platonically.

“Man up,” he muttered to himself. This was his time to make a choice. He could risk being hurt or he could lose his only friend, and possibly his home.

Taking a deep breath, he put pen to paper and began.

Hunter,

This silence is killing me. You’ve been so good to me, letting me live here and having my back. No one’s done that for me since my brother died. I hate that I hurt you. I never meant to. For as much as I talk, sometimes I can’t get the words to come out right. So, here, I’m going to tell you what I should have said before.

You are smart. You are one of the smartest, kindest, most sincere people I’ve ever known. I’ve seen how you fix things just by looking at them and figuring out how they work. I’ve watched you figure out how many bales of hay you can fit into the back of your truck without needing to measure either one, and I know it’s not just practice because I’ve seen you do it with other things.

I don’t want to change you so you’re ‘worthy’ of me or some shit like that. I want to bring out the intelligence that I know you have
, because I want us both to walk into that reunion and show those sons of bitches what amazing people we both are. I know it’s not your school and those aren't the same bastards who were cruel to you, but they’re cut from the same cloth. Trust me.

I want them to see what I see every day when I look at you
:  a strong, handsome man with a sharp, brilliant mind and a kind heart. If you want to go in your work jeans and flannel shirt, with hay in your beard and dirt on your hands, I’ll stand proudly by your side. The fact that you’re willing to do this for me means more than I can ever say, and I swear that I will never put you in a position where you feel like you’re not good enough. You are. You’re more than good enough. You’re the best.

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 22

C
asey lost himself in the rhythm of brushing Dollie’s coat, automatically stepping back as she did her usual side shuffle. It amazed him to think how far he’d come in less than two months. The horse no longer scared him. In fact, during the time Hunter had been ignoring him, Casey had found himself in the barn more and more, talking as he cared for the mare. She didn’t care that his voice was higher than most men’s. Her ears twitched when she heard him speak, and she’d nudge his shirt, looking for carrots and sugar. He almost smiled. If someone had told him two months ago that he’d be on a farm taking care of a horse, he would’ve laughed at them. Now he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, and the idea that Hunter would make him leave terrified him.

“So, I been thinkin’.” Hunter appeared in the doorway.

Casey started, but only for a moment. He was going to take this like a man. No crying or begging. He’d let Hunter say his piece, then go up and pack. Maybe Hunter would let him stay until the morning at least.

“Yeah?” Casey let his eyes flick up towards Hunter, his stomach twisting in knots as he thought how this would be the last time he’d get to see Hunter like this.

Hunter shrugged, “S’all right. I wanna do it for ya.”

Casey froze. He didn’t want to dare to hope. “Hunter…”

“I read your letter.” Hunter’s voice was much closer now.

Goose bumps coated Casey’s skin as the familiar smell of Hunter reached him. It was sweat and hard work, and something more masculine than anything Casey had ever smelled before. He’d read Casey’s letter. He hadn’t been sure
that Hunter wouldn’t have just thrown it away, and even if Hunter had read it, there had been no guarantee that he’d believe a word of it.

He turned towards Hunter now, daring to meet those clear blue eyes.“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It came out all wrong. You’re fine the way you are. I like the way you are.”

“And I like you,” Hunter said. His eyes caught Casey’s for longer than a minute.

Casey’s heart raced. “Okay,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you aren’t good enough. Ever.”

Hunter shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “That’s what your letter said, and I believe you.” He put his hand on Casey’s arm. “So, what do we gotta do to get started?”

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 23

“H
unter, can you come in here a second?” Casey said. He turned on classical music to aid in his new project. For the past week-and-a-half, he’d been working with Hunter on diction and enunciation, trying not to acknowledge the irony of him teaching someone to speak properly. He’d gone to the library and taken out several books, both classics and newer, popular ones, making sure he stuck with authors who emphasized proper English. Hunter didn’t need to read Mark Twain. He already spoke like Huck Finn. When he’d seen Hunter sitting in his chair, immersed in one of Casey’s favorites, his heart had done a silly-like skip.

Now, it was time to continue the Eliza Doolittle transformation by focusing on posture and movement.

“What’s with the music?” Hunter asked, as he entered the living room. “You gonna teach me to dance or something?” When Casey gave him a stern look, Hunter rolled his eyes and said, “Are you going to teach me to dance?”

“Not exactly. We’ve got to start with the basics. Walking.”

“Walking? I know how to walk. My mom taught me good.”

Casey cringed at the misuse of the English language. A glance at Hunter, however, revealed eyes sparkling with laughter. Casey couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head. He kept going. “Here’s the thing. There’s walking and then there’s
walking
.”

Casey mimicked and over-exaggerated the country boy way he walked.  “That is not walking.”

Hunter blushed, “Is that supposed to be me?”

“It’s not supposed to be. It
is
you. And it’s a definite no-no. A gentleman walks with style, with grace,” Casey said. He walked past Hunter with a touch of flair, but with less swing in his hips than he usually used. He wasn’t trying to turn Hunter into him. “You can still be a man, and a masculine one at that, without walking like you’re carrying a load in your pants.”

Hunter blushed,
and burst out laughing. “Alright.”

“So ... left, right, left
, right, swing your arms, Hunter .... there you go,” he instructed.

Hunter tried
, but his limbs were too stiff and robotic.

Casey tried a few times
, but he just wasn’t getting it. Casey closed his eyes and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked, frustrated too.

Casey took a deep breath, wiping his hands across his face to calm himself. How was he going to make Hunter understand? Professor Henry Higgins hadn’t had this much of a problem with his protégé. A light bulb went off. Maybe that would work. One of the first things that he and Hunter had ever had a real conversation about had been about their mutual love of old Westerns. It was time for a change of tactics.

“Okay, so you like old movies
, right?”

“Yep,” Hunter answered.

“So imagine: this is not a John Wayne movie, this is a ... You know what this is? This is a Cary Grant movie.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Close your eyes now and be Cary Grant.” Casey smiled, pleased with himself.

He squeezed
his eyes shut, then opened them.

Casey’s smile drooped and he sighed, “You don’t know who Cary Grant is, do you?”

“Nope,” he said.

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 24

C
asey couldn’t keep his eyes off of it. Battling between Hunter’s ruggedly handsome looks and the big bowl of buttered popcorn lodged in the other man’s crotch, Casey didn’t know where to look. He forced himself to focus on something else—anything else.

But it was so hard.

His stomach sank as he saw this man, this perfect man, just inches away. Being cool with the fact that he liked other dudes was one thing, but Casey knew better than to cross the line. He could never risk losing this new friendship with Hunter.

Hunter lifted a handful of popcorn and popped it in his mouth
. His fingers slid out of his full lips, while his tongue was licking his fingertips, sucking slowly. Casey was so turned on in that instant, all he could think to do was throw the popcorn to the floor and lick the butter off Hunter’s fingers.

Stop.
Casey told himself.
He doesn’t like you like that. You’re only going to get your heart broken and ruin your friendship. This is a job, a living situation, maybe a good friendship. Nothing more.

And even though he knew the logic made sense, the more he thought about it, the more it saddened him. He stared at the TV screen and soon his mind drifted. It was a comedy
, and even though the film was practically ancient, it was hilarious. He blurted out a laugh and Hunter laughed back. His eyes drifted Casey’s direction.

Hunter didn’t know what it was about Casey
, but he wanted to be around him all the time. Most people had failed or disappointed him in one way or another, and Hunter only hoped Casey wouldn’t be the same. He didn’t want another failure to add to his list, although he couldn’t say why it mattered to him so much that it was Casey who succeeded while others had failed.

Through the wafting smell of buttery popcorn, Hunter couldn’t stop looking at Casey. His heart thudded wildly in his chest, but he didn’t know why. It’d be one thing if it was another chick on his couch. He would have banged her by now, legs up in the air
, moaning the night away.

But it was another man.

Another man whose lips he was picturing wrapped around his finger, sucking off the butter and salt from the popcorn. What would it feel like, to have a man’s mouth traveling down his chest, licking every inch of it? Would it be different to have a man go down on him rather than a woman? It would be hot and wet, but would Casey’s mouth feel different than… hers?

He pushed her name away before it could form
, and then realized that his thoughts had made his cock hard. He shifted it in his sweat pants, hoping Casey wouldn’t notice. He didn’t want to have to explain himself, especially since he wouldn’t feel right lying, not after being so adamant about it.

He didn’t know what to do. He’d never been with a man. Hadn’t even fantasized about one, not really. Sure, there had been a couple times in his life when he’d looked at a particularly good
looking guy and thought he was attractive, but he’d always reasoned that was just an appreciation of beauty. It wasn’t sexual at all. Now, though, with thoughts of the young man next to him dropping to his knees and slowly peeling down...

“Are you liking it so far?” Casey asked, the question almost sounding shy.