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Chapter Four

Ben was waiting when Zach got home that night.

Waitinginsidethe house, to be precise. And to bemoreprecise, sitting on Zach’s recently purchased black plaid sofa, stroking Mr. Bigglesworth.

Ben was Zach’s age. Slim, medium height, with curly, dark hair and wide green eyes and dimples—although it had been a long time since Zach had seen Ben’s dimples. There were no dimples in sight that evening, though Ben was smiling smugly.

“Well, this is a little creepy,” Zach replied in answer to that smile.

He was trying to play it cool, but he was genuinely shocked. Ben was the most law-abiding person he knew, so this foray into criminal trespass was as out-of-character as it was unwelcome.

Ben’s smile faded, and he flushed. “It’s not creepy when it’sme.”

That’s what all the creeps think.Zach didn’t say that, though. Ben’s flushed face did not match his defiant words. Besides, Ben wasn’t a creep, really. He was just…

“I’m not a creep,” Ben said. “Your mom suggested I drop by. If you won’t talk to me, what am I supposed to do?”

That was equal parts reassuring and upsetting. Because, yes, Zach’s mother probably had given Ben this idea. She was Team Ben all the way and believed Zach was making yet another major life mistake in letting Ben go.

“How did you get in?”

There was a hint of criticism in Ben’s, “Spare key in the barbecue grill. Same place you always hide your spare key.”

Not after this.But Zach didn’t say that either. Instead, despite the fact that it was late and he was tired and still had to pack for tomorrow’s trip to Pebble Beach, he strained to be reasonable, to remember that once upon a time he’d envisioned spending the rest of his life with Ben.

“I’m not sure what the point of this is, Ben. Wehavebeen talking. We were talking this morning when you hung up on me. Every conversation ends in an argument.”

“Because you’re not listening!” Mr. Bigglesworth began to wriggle, and Ben released him. The lavender sphynx leaped away, coming to greet Zach with plaintive meows.

Zach picked Mr. Bigglesworth up, and the cat bumped his funny little triangular face to Zach’s chin, rubbing back and forth in noisy greeting. Zach smiled. He gently nose-bumped Mr. B. in return.

Everybody needed a little unconditional love in their life.

“Hey, Mr. B. I missed you, too.” He sighed inwardly and said to Ben, “Let me feed Mr. B. and then we can—”

“I already fed him,” Ben said.

“Oh.”

That was very thoughtful. Very…Ben. It was unreasonable for Zach to be instantly irritated by Ben’s thoughtfulness. Right? Why should Mr. Bigglesworth have to go hungry when Ben was right there, lurking in Zach’s house, ready and willing to dish up the Smalls fresh cat food on demand?

He swallowed his annoyance, moved to the room’s only chair, and sank into it, still cuddling Mr. Bigglesworth. “Okay. I’m listening. You have my full and undivided attention.”

Ben frowned. “You’re not going to pour yourself a drink or anything?”

“Ben—”

“I feel like you’re holding a stopwatch on me!”

Zach closed his eyes. For one really weird second, he actually struggled with tears.

He was trying so hard. He really was. Trying to do the right thing. Trying not to hurt anyone. Trying not to disappoint anyone. It was overwhelming to know he was failing at all of it. He was hurting Ben. He was disappointing Ben, his mother, probably his father, Mr. Bigglesworth… Hell, he was probably disappointing the rival PI on the other side of the shopping center. He had taken on a job he was uneasy about and which he probably wasn’t equipped for, a job which involved another person’s health and safety. He had ended a stable relationship with someone who loved him. He was going against his dad’s wishes; hemissedhis dad—

Buck up, kid. Tough times make tough people.

Zach drew in a sharp breath. He could hear Pop’s gruff voice as clearly as if his father stood over him. He pulled himself together and opened his eyes.

“I’m not timing you. I’m listening to everything you have to say without any distractions.”