Carter lifted his hand and pointed. “Second drawer on the left.”
The second drawer on the left turned out to be plain white T-shirts and boxer briefs. Jeff stared at them for far too long and then took the pair on top and closed the drawer a little too quickly. “Thanks.” He had to get out of there. “I’ll be on the couch. Yell if you need me.”
THE MORNINGbrought unanticipated new levels of compartmentalizing. The couch was a nightmare, half because it was too small even for Jeff to sleep on and half because it smelled like Carter. That hadn’t stopped Jeff from sinking into an aching, immersive impressionist painting of a dream, full of sound and smell and color and touch, the shape of Carter’s palm against his cheek and his back under his fingertips. He’d woken to the phantom touch of Carter’s mouth on the side of his neck and decided that, as Carter’s guest, he had the right to the first shower of the day.
He didn’t even consider cold water. He bent his left arm against the shower wall and leaned his head against it. As the heat sluiced over him, he took himself in hand and pretended Carter was touching him, his body pressed to Jeff’s back, his lips murmuring sweet encouragement into Jeff’s ear, his thick cock sliding between Jeff’s cheeks, not pushing in, not yet, just a presence and a promise.
He squeezed his eyes shut when he came and then he washed up quickly, trusting the water and the scent of bodywash to destroy the evidence.
By the time he was out of the bathroom, Carter was awake and mobile, though he didn’t look happy about it.
“You look like crap,” Jeff said, frozen in place because Carter was wearing boxers and a T-shirt and Jeff was wearing a towel, and he had to saysomething.
“Didn’t sleep well,” Carter rasped. Jeff believed him—his eyes were heavy-lidded and he was standing in the hallway, kind of staring.
“You need coffee,” Jeff decided. If Carter kept looking at him like that, Jeff’s towel was going to fall off. “I’m just—I’ll let you have the shower.” And he squeaked past him down the hallway and thanked any god who’d listen for the built-in shower seat in Carter’s bathroom so he had no excuse to volunteer for a sponge bath.
He didn’t want to put yesterday’s clothes back on, so he was swimming in a T-shirt of Carter’s and shorts that hung past his knees when Carter’s mom showed up five minutes later.
“Carter?” Had they not locked the door, or did she have a key? “I brought you some groceries—oh, Jeff.”
Jeff could see her taking in the details—the fact that he’d just showered, that he was wearing Carter’s clothes, that he’d just emerged from Carter’s bedroom—and putting two and two together to get sixteen. “Good morning, Ella,” he said. How did you conveyby the way, I’m not sleeping with your sonwith any degree of tact?
She beamed at him. “I’m so sorry to intrude.”
“Oh, you’re not,” Jeff said quickly. “I just didn’t want to leave Carter alone overnight with a broken foot, so I slept on the couch.”
He tried not to notice her smile dimming. “Of course. You were always such a good friend to Carter.”
Jeff almost laughed out loud. Carter had always been the one taking care of him—scaring off his bullies, distracting him from his mother’s illness, offering his own family when Jeff’s couldn’t take care of him. “He was always a good friend to me. He’s in the shower. I was going to make some coffee, if you want some.”
OBVIOUSLY CARTERwouldn’t be doing much driving or physical labor for a while, but apparently there was still deskwork to take care of. Jeff wasn’t sure how he was going to get anything done, since he’d peeked into the home “office” in Carter’s second bedroom to find mostly workout equipment and a folding table that had seen better days… like the nineties. Carter had asked his mom to swing by the park office to pick up his laptop, so Ella drove Jeff back to his cabin.
When the silence in the car had stretched on for going on ten minutes, Ella said, “You know, when I asked you to try to get him to slow down, this isn’t what I meant.”
Jeff snorted in spite of himself. “Beggars can’t be choosers.” He glanced at her. “You’re not going to have trouble without him at the garage, are you?”
“No, actually, this is a blessing in disguise.” She signaled to turn into the park entrance. “Katie’s looking to go back to working part-time now that the baby’s old enough to be in day care. She actually has accounting experience, so I can hand over most of the office stuff to her, and that frees up Brady for physical labor.” She smiled. “He’s been whining about desk duty for three months. This’ll make everyone happy.”
That sounded like a pretty good solution… except for one thing. “What about Carter?”
Ella shook her head and slowed the car so the gate attendant could see her park pass. They waved her through. “Carter has always felt like he has to take care of everyone else. He likes to be needed. Fred was like that too; he lived to help others. But Carter never wanted to work at the garage.”
Jeff nodded in response and went back to gazing out the window until they pulled up outside his cabin. “Thank you for the ride. I’ll see you at the memorial?”
“It’ll be good to have you there.” She took his left hand in both of hers. “Carter might not say it, but it means a lot to him that you’re coming. And Fred and I always thought of you as a son.”
Jeff knew she needed to say that as much as he needed to hear it, but that didn’t stop it from hurting—reminding him of the sting of his own dysfunctional family and the torch he’d been carrying for Carter at the same time. “I’ve never thanked you properly,” he said through a suddenly thick throat. “For everything.” His chest constricted. “If it hadn’t been for Fred buying me that guitar…. It sounds stupid, but I swear it saved my life.”
“It isn’t stupid, dear.” She squeezed his hand. “He was so proud of you and what you accomplished. I know it would mean a lot to him if….”
Jeff turned in his seat and took her other hand as well. “Tell me,” he urged. “Anything. After everything the two of you did for me….”
“You always were a good boy.” She gave him a brave smile. “Would you bring your guitar to the memorial? Not the public one, just the boat service. And would you play something for Fred?”
His eyes burned. “Yes,” he said immediately, voice rough. “Yes, of course I will.”
They went their separate ways. Jeff thought they both needed to catch their composure.
