Page 20 of Resilience on Canvas

“I want to help you,” Henry said, his voice barely even a whisper. “Just tell me how.”

Robert snorted. Henry was only feeling bad for breaking his promise. And Robert wasn’t looking for Henry to make it up to him somehow.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’m only being cynical ’cause I’m tired.”

“Robert, I know how much you care. I’ve seen how hard you work for everybody.” Henry tapped his index finger a couple of times on the floorboards. Softly, he mumbled, “‘Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’”

Robert huffed a laugh.

“What, you think God will help me, Hen? Or Jesus?” Robert put his cigarette to his lips. “He’s the one who’s keepin’ the rain from us.” He chuckled and said, “Blasphemy, I know.”

“Oh, uhm, I meant me,” Henry said, his voice still small. “I was tryin’ to be funny.”

Robert sighed. So, Henry was funny. And, Christ, Robert was being a real son of a bitch to his funny friend right now, wasn’t he? He ought to fix that.

“Are you my savior, Hen?” Robert teased, turning his tone playful.

Henry smiled and shook his head. “Oh, I was only kiddin’.”

“I know. And I’m kiddin’ right back.” Robert kicked Henry’s foot. “But thank you for yer offer to help. And for the laugh.”

Henry nodded. After a moment, Henry turned to Robert, and the second they locked eyes, Robert’s heart fluttered. He banged on his chest a couple of times with his fist, like maybe he could beat these infuriating feelings right out of himself. But that only made Henry’s eyebrows turn up with what looked to be concern. And then Robert’s stomach was rolling some more.

Lord Almighty.

Quickly, Robert took one more puff of his cigarette and then snuffed it out on one of the floorboards. “We better head back in before our lungs fill with the Devil’s snow,” he said.

With a happy-sounding hum, Henry said, “I like that name for it.”

Robert smiled a crooked smile. “Thanks.”

Once they reached the bedroom, Henry started back toward his bed, but Robert caught his sleeve like he had several times earlier that night.

Why couldn’t he seem to stop himself from doing that?

“I’m sorry I was a bastard,” he said.

“Don’t worry. I mean, I... uhm... I like it,” Henry said, to which Robert crooked an eyebrow. “I-I like it that you’re so intense, you know? I’m not intense myself, really, so it’s... interesting to me. Good interesting.”

Robert’s other eyebrow rose to meet its twin. Henry Sherwood thought he was interesting.Goodinteresting. Robert’s cheeks reddened. That wasn’t something most people would say to a friend, was it?

“Right,” Robert said, his stomach somersaulting. He knew that he ought to choose his next words carefully. Or, well, probably he ought to change the subject. But part of him... part of him wanted to know whether Henry had meant something by that. He had to wonder how the man might respond if he received the same sort of compliment from Robert in return. “Well, I think yer interesting too.”

Henry bit his bottom lip in what must have been the most seductive way possible. Robert’s heart stuttered. Holding his breath, he waited for Henry’s reply.

After a couple more seconds, Henry said, “Good interesting?” His trembling voice was filled with something that sounded like... like hope.

Holy hell.

Fear seized Robert by the throat, a lifetime’s worth of shame slamming into him.

“No,” Robert said before pausing to swallow. He licked his lips. “Definitely not.”

Robert released Henry’s sleeve so forcefully, it sent Henry back a step.

And neither of them said one more Goddamn word as they climbed back into bed.

Chapter Six

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