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“Your beard. Do you brush it? Do you have a little brush for it? Like a mini brush.” He let out a laugh as he imagined Grady brushing it with a doll’s brush.

“Sometimes I want to know what goes through your head, and then I decide that it’s not a good idea to spread that around.”

“My thoughts are incredible, I’ll have you know. And you didn’t answer the question.”

“I brush it with a normal-sized brush, and I put beard oil in it so it doesn’t feel like bristles scratching my face. Anything else you want to know?”

“Not right now, but if I think of anything, I’ll let you know.”

“You’ve never grown a beard?” Grady asked, glancing down to Lake’s lips.

“I can’t,” Lake said.

“You physically can’t?”

It was a fair question; some guys couldn’t. Lake had been in the military since he was seventeen years old, so he… wasn’t actually sure if he could grow a nice one like Grady’s. But probably not. It wasn’t long, but there was a lot of coverage, and it was nice and thick. “No, like, it’s against regulations, and I’m not allowed to grow a beard.” It was only allowed for very specific reasons, and Lake didn’t tick any of those boxes, so no beard for him. A real shame. He couldn’t grow his hair out much longer than it was for the same reason. It was probably a touch too long, but no one had sent him to the barber yet, so he would continue straddling the line until they did. As an officer, he got away with a little more than he probably should have. “Guys like the beard burn, right?”

“I’m stopping this conversation right here. Where’s your kitchen?”

“This way. So…” Lake said as he led Grady through his lounge. It wasn’t as fancy as Grady’s rental, but the couch was comfortable, the TV was big, and he even had a coffee table—it was scuffed and probably needed a good sand and repaint,butit was functional. “About dinner…” He trailed off, unsure how to say, “I fucked it up, and I don’t know what you want instead; should we eat out?”

“Forgot how to cook sausages?” Grady asked mildly.

“Funny you say that.” He hadn’tforgottenhow; he’d just somehow managed to fuck it up colossally. That was all. There was no need to rehash it.

Grady raised his eyebrows at the charred mess that was supposed to be their food. “That’s impressive,” he said.

“Just expanding your culinary experience.”

“I can see that.”

“We can just order some takeout,” Lake said flippantly. That’s why delivery existed, to save poor schmucks like him who sometimes destroyed dinner. “You like Thai?”

“How often do you get takeout?” Grady questioned, looking him up and down. It wasn’t suggestive, but Lake flushed anyway. And also if he was insinuating that Lake couldn’t possibly have a great body while eating so badly, he was absolutely correct. But mostly other people fed him, and he worked out a lot at work. And flying helicopters wasn’t exactly an office job; it was hard work.

“I have the right to remain silent,” Lake said, smiling impishly. He wasn’t going to actually answer that question and incriminate himself. He wasn’t anidiot.

Grady sighed and fished his keys out of his pocket. “What time does the basketball start?”

“Not until nine.” Thewhyin his question was implied.

“We’re going to the supermarket,” Grady said. “There’s one just two blocks from here. We’ll be back with plenty of time to eat and watch your game.”

“The supermarket?” Lake asked incredulously as he followed Grady back through his house to the front door. He snagged his T-shirt on the way and tugged it over his head, pulling it down into place and smoothing his hands down his chest.

“If you tell me that you’ve never been in one, I might actually believe you.” Grady grabbed his shoes and tugged them on before bending to tie the laces.

His ass was pretty impressive for a guy. Not round like Lake’s—he knew what his ass looked like. He wasn’t ignorant of the termbubble butt;he watched sports—but it was still nice. Lake blinked at it, realised he was staring, and turned away to find his own shoes. He’d left them around somewhere.

“I go in them,” Lake said, remembering their conversation. He gave Grady an “excuse me” look. “Last week even… I think.” He did all his shopping online, so sue him. Lots of people had their groceries delivered. Some weeks he didn’t have a lot of downtime, and he spent upwards of ten hours in the air; the last thing he wanted to do was go shopping, even for sustenance.

“I won’t let anyone bite you,” Grady assured him as he opened the front door and gestured for Lake to go ahead.

“My knight in shining armour,” Lake teased. Then his brain caught up. “Am I at risk of being bitten? That seems like a hazard they should warn people about.”

Grady just chuckled as he followed Lake down the steps.

The shopping trip itself was fairly uneventful and relatively pain free. No one even attempted to bite him. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or offended. He was plenty biteable.