Page 125 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

“He’s in the shower, trying to get rid of his hangover.”

She let the words hang between them for a moment, as if trying to put the whole night together from what little Ben had offered. “Is he hungover because you two celebrated getting back together last night?” There was a hopeful note in her voice.

“Not exactly.” Ben couldn’t really decide what all to tell her. He chose to stick to the main point. “But he’s here now, and we’re gonna work everything out.” One way or another. “Look, Ma, lemme call you once everything is sorted, okay?”

“And have Gavin call me, sorted or not.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him.” What Gavin would do with it was anyone’s guess, but he’d deliver the message. “Love you.”

She sighed into the phone. “I love you too. I love both of you. Don’t make me come out there and knock your heads together.” Her laugh at the end was a little comforting, but he knew she’d do it if pressed.

“We’ll work something out between us. Promise.” He had no idea what, but something.

They ended the call, and Ben went back to making breakfast. He didn’t cook often. Hell, he didn’t cook at all unless Gavin was in the kitchen with him. His skills were limited to making sandwiches, heating up soup, or tossing leftovers into the microwave. Gavin had tried to teach him at first, tried to show him how to get spaghetti noodles just right, how to make a good tomato sauce from scratch. More often than not, though, Ben would watch him and then kiss him and then they’d end up fucking right there in the kitchen while a pot boiled over onto the stovetop. After a while, Gavin stopped letting him help.

Ben stood for a moment, unsure what to do next. His head was full of Gavin. All the ways Gavin drove him crazy, all the ways Gavin made him laugh, turned him on, teased him. He fiddled with the toaster and dropped some bread in, feeling overwhelmed and empty at the same time.

Chapter Six

Gavin

Gavin could smell food as soon as he opened the bathroom door. The scent of strong coffee mixed in with it and, surprisingly, his stomach didn’t protest at the idea. He wagered he’d feel differently if he smelled anything cinnamon because even the thought of those Fireball shots the night before made him flinch.

His headache had mercifully eased up, but he still felt achy all over, inside and out, really. He hadn’t been able to piece much more of the previous night together, so all he had to go on was where he and Ben had left things a week earlier. Not great. But Ben had brought him home last night, so that had to be a step in the right direction. He didn’t share the bed, though, so maybe not. Going over it all made him dizzy, so he decided to pull on some clothes and get his breakfast before going back to Tony’s.

Ben’s sweats were folded on the foot of the bed, probably an unspoken offer. Gavin had left his own things in the hamper in the bathroom out of habit, so unless he wanted to wander around naked while he washed his clothes, he didn’t have much choice. He had to roll the cuffs a couple of inches and cinch the drawstring around his waist, but at least his ass wasn’t hanging out. Much.

As he came into the little dining area by the deck, Ben was setting the plates on the table. “Mom called, wants you to call her back.”

Gavin sat down in his usual spot and took a sip from the water by his plate. He didn’t respond at first. He fought his emotions as he thought about Ben’s family. He was going to miss them almost as much as he missed Ben. Nora, Ben’s mother, had taken him into her fold from the first moment they’d met. Gavin had always assumed she had a soft spot for strays, and Gavin fit the bill. But they shared a sense of humor, an obsession for cooking, and mostly they shared a deep and fierce love for Ben. Nora would sit for hours and talk about Ben, what he was like as a boy, what Ben’s father was like too. She even told him stories about Hunter and shared the burden of her grief with Gavin in a way Ben could never bring himself to do. Nora was a soft counter to Ben’s stoicism when it came to painful memories.

“I didn’t think I could keep her if I didn’t get to keep you.”

Ben glanced up from his breakfast. “You don’t know her as well I thought you did, then.” He softened his tone and added, “She loves you, Gav. No matter what happens, that’s never changing.”

Gavin only nodded in response at first. He picked at his breakfast and couldn’t help a breathy laugh when he noticed the toast. He poked a charred piece and then held it in front of him. It even smelled like charcoal. “It’s not that hard, Ben. Just set it to three and wait for it to pop up.”

The hopeful look in Ben’s eyes at the old tease made Gavin hurt more somehow. He wasn’t the one who ended things. He didn’t decide he was done with their life and walk out the door one day. Why the hell did Ben look so relieved?

“Credit for trying?” Ben asked, seeming to relax slightly, seeming totally oblivious to Gavin’s pain. When Gavin didn’t respond, Ben asked, “How’s your head?”

Glad for the safe territory, Gavin swallowed the bite in his mouth before he answered. “Still a little foggy, but I don’t feel like someone’s trying to drive a railroad spike through my brain anymore.”

“That’s a start.” Ben was quiet for a moment as they ate. Before either of them had finished, he asked, “Did you learn your lesson?”

Gavin narrowed his eyes, his hackles rising. “Did you?”

“I wasn’t the one falling down drunk at the bar last night.”

He should probably feel abashed, or at least a little contrite, but instead Ben’s words rankled. “What exactly were you doing there, then, and who the hell are you to judge?” His appetite had vanished, so he hopped up and took his plate to the kitchen, dumping the contents into the sink. Before he could turn on the disposal, Ben stood so abruptly he nearly knocked his chair over.

“I was looking for you.” Ben growling was never a good sign. When he yelled, you were usually on safe ground, but that scary—albeit sexy—growl? Ben was on the verge of putting his fist through a wall. Or someone’s head, depending on how pissed he was.

Apparently Gavin’s survival instincts were sleeping in. “Well, ya found me. Congratulations, Sherlock.”

He’d never seen Ben turn purple before. He’d also never noticed the vein in his neck stand out so high. Ben was either about to knock him out or give himself a heart attack by trying to resist the urge.

Before he could say anything, there was a knock at the door. They both jumped, but Ben put his hand up, pointing a finger at Gavin. “We’re not done with this.” He stalked over to the door and jerked it open so hard, Gavin worried for the hinges.

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