Page 7 of A Stealthy Situation (Franklin U 2)

BENNETT

I cruise through the party, marveling again at how easily we’re able to pull something like this together. The house is full, and we only opened the doors ten minutes ago, but I can pick out my brothers by the random hoots and hollers coming from various rooms. It’s gotten clammy inside with all the body heat filling the space, so I’ve taken off my shirt and tucked it in my shorts—it has nothing to do with wanting Harrison to see my abs the second he steps into the house.

“Dude, Devon is about to start a fire in the kitchen,” Holmes says, almost knocking me over. “He dumped a whole bag of potato chips, MMs, and toffee into a dish and covered it in whipped cream. No fucking clue why he’s putting it in the oven, but he’s drunk off his tits already.”

Motherfucker. Given I decided to stop at two drinks, I’m probably the most sober one here, which means it’s on me to put a stop to the house burning down. That would be a fast way to end the party before Harrison even got here.

So reluctantly, I leave where I’m hovering by the entrance and follow Holmes toward the kitchen. The music is thudding so hard the walls shake, and we have to push our way through sweaty bodies to find the commotion. Lots of drunk men cheering and egging on the dumbassery.

I approach the huddle of bodies, not loving the smell starting to build in here.

“Hey, what are we cooking?”

“Munchie cure,” Devon grunts.

“You sure? Because it smells like burning plastic.”

They all snicker like they have a joke I’m not in on. Knowing they’re drunk and stoned, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the case.

I crane my neck to look into the oven, and even through the grubby front glass, I can tell it’s getting dark in there. I hate to say it, but I think Holmes was right.

“Question: is it the charcoal or the smokey flavor that gets rid of the munchies?”

I’m met by five blank faces.

With a sigh that’s as dramatic as me hanging out by the door for Harrison, I hook my foot into the oven handle and kick it open.

A cloud of smoke billows into the kitchen, followed by the sound of coughing. Someone hurries to close the door to the hallway before the alarm can go off.

I tug my shirt from where it’s tucked into my shorts and press it to my face while my brothers argue amongst themselves over whose fault it was. I’ve dealt with more than enough kitchen mishaps that this one barely fazes me. I just flick the knob off, grab a towel, and pull the charred mess out.

Then, because I really want to make sure they clear out of the kitchen before they do more damage, I drop the dish in the sink and turn the cold water on high.

Sizzling fills the air, steam roaring up around us, making the room smell nastier than before. A few people cheer, so I indulge them in a bow and am about to tell them all to get their asses out when I glance over and spot Harrison.

He’s in the doorway, red Solo cup in hand, gorgeous broad smile sitting clean on his face.

“You know, when you said you grew up on burned food, I didn’t realize you were the one cooking,” he says as he approaches.

“I wasn’t. And I wasn’t this time either.” I hold up the soggy dish. “Want some potato, choc smash?”

“Some what?”

“Had to give the stupid-ass idea a name as dumb as the things that they put in it. I love my brothers, but damn do they switch off at parties.”

“And you’re the mature, responsible one, right?”

I laugh because I don’t think I’ve ever been called that in my life. “I grew up in a house with six siblings making shit up as we went along. There’s nothing mature about me. I just know how to thrive in chaos.”

“That’s a good quality to have.”

“Sometimes. Other times, when everything is calm and normal, life feels way too boring.”

“Boring?”

“Yeah.” I dump the dish back in the sink and throw the towel over it. “Makes me restless. Down. I hate it.”

Technically, with the secrecy Em and I are going for, it would have made more sense to get an apartment together. We would have had our own space, wouldn’t have had to hide, and it would have been so much simpler than locking my bedroom door every time I leave my room.

But Em wanted to experience the San Diego State campus, and the thought of having an apartment to myself? Off campus where there were no people around?

How fucking depressing.

In some ways, the DIK house reminds me of my childhood. It’s loud. Busy.

When things get quiet, that’s when I start thinking, and I don’t like where my brain goes.

Harrison shrugs, taking a long sip of his beer. “I love the stillness.”

“You are one weird dude.”

“I just think that if you don’t stop once in a while, really pay attention, appreciate what’s around, that things move too quickly. Sometimes you miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“The good in the world.”

I stare at him for a beat, then hold my arms out toward the drunken laughter, stumbling couples, and beer bong chugging around us. “Are you telling me this isn’t all good?”

“This is fun, but I wouldn’t call it good.”

“Chaos is my everything. A night like tonight, it’ll give me a buzz for the rest of the week.”

Harrison still looks skeptical.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” I grab his hand and pull him through the house after me, up the stairs, and through the halls until we reach the attic entrance. I pull down the string and climb up first, his heavy footsteps on the rungs letting me know he’s following.

“This seems like the opposite of what you wanted to show me,” he says, stepping into the bare roof cavity. The music is muffled up here, and yeah, it’s quieter … for now.

I cross to the large window and slide it all the way across. Music and the sounds of the party going on below filter up to us again, and I cross my arms over the ledge.

From here, I can see the entire backyard and everything happening in it.

“This is my kingdom.”

Harrison watches for a second. “People have always disappointed me.”

“What? Why?” Considering how over-the-top friendly he is, I would have thought he was one of those hypersocial extroverts.

“Dunno, really. I think it’s more of a me problem. I just get so invested in things, excited over them, and it’s like no one else cares.”

“Like what?”

He drags his bottom lip through his teeth. “Eh, it’s not important.”

“Of course it is.”

He glances my way, brown eyes meeting mine for a second. “I’m kind of a plant guy. Really into the environment and think nature is one of the coolest things ever, but as you can imagine, most people find that weird. It’s always ‘are you a dog or a cat person’ but never ‘are you a Venus flytrap or house fern person,’ you know?”

I don’t know. I have literally no clue what he means. A plant person? Is he one of those nutters who sits out in the forest to study fungus? Does he wear a tinfoil hat while he does it?

Harrison takes one look at my face and cracks up. “See? There. You’re mentally calling me a weirdo, but your face is screaming it at me anyway.”

“Not weird … umm, different?”

“Uh-huh. Right.”

“Well … are you going to answer the question?”

He looks at me like he isn’t following.

I roll my eyes. “Flytrap or fern?”

His smile swiftly fills his face. “Out of those two, definitely the Venus, but overall, monkey face orchid. They make me laugh. Every. Damn. Time.”

“Yeah, but we already established that doesn’t take much.” I pull out my phone to look up whatever the fuck that orchid is. When it hits my screen, my lips twitch. “Okay, that thing is pretty funky-looking.”

“See? See? And there’s just so much cool shit like that out there. Not even cute like that, but really bloody mind-blowing. We wouldn’t have half the medicines and cures we do now if it wasn’t for plants, and they literally balance the entire ecosystem. Need food? Shelter? Water? Plants!”

There’s something about seeing this hulky, handsome guy totally nerd out that makes me weak. I have never, ever thought a plant was cool or interesting in my life. The best use I ever got out of them was when Em and I would use branches and sticks to sword fight as kids.

So, I might not share his passion or his interest, but I can grudgingly admit he kind of makes me want to.

“I take it you’re studying something plant-ish?”

He frowns for a split second. “Sorry, I thought I already said. Yeah, I want to be an ecologist. Still a lot to do to get there, but it’s happening. What about you? Something with hockey, right?”

Did I tell him that? I wouldn’t put it past me because once I get started on that sport, I’m like Harrison—can never shut up about it—but it’s not in a good way.

“That’s the aim. Get my journalism degree and become a sports reporter for hockey. A decent one, not one of those assholes who are always after a sound bite.”

“That’s a cool goal.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t know a whole lot about sports, but would hockey be hard to get into? It’s pretty popular, right?”

Pretty popular? He’s cute. “Something like that. But I’m confident.” Nothing like cashing in on the bit of nepotism that goes along with my last name.

Harrison points at something below us. “Are those two in the bushes over there fucking?”

“Probably. It happens at least a few times a party.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever wanted to have public sex like that.”

“It’s fun.” I grin his way, and he plays with his baseball cap in a way that makes him look adorable.

“Of course a DIK knows all about that.”

“Hey, I’d rather they do it down there than in my bed. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to stand in the hall and wait for people to be done in my room.”

“Jesus,” he mutters, sounding scandalized.

“Eh, I come from a big family, remember? I’m used to boundaries not being a thing.”

“Surely common decency helps you realize you don’t fuck in someone else’s bed.”

“Nah. You know what it’s like. When you’re with someone.” I sweep a look over him. “That tension building and building … then you give in, and it makes you so high there’s no stopping it. You don’t give a shit where you are, you just need to get off.”

Harrison turns his head slightly toward me, and the idea to kiss him briefly flickers through my brain. Sure, it’s not the most romantic place to do this, but I’m not after flowers and songs—I just want to suck his cock.

Something makes me hold back though.

Something in his expression.

We’re so close our shoulders are almost touching, so I can see every detail on his face. The freckles over his nose, the long, strawberry blond eyelashes, his strong jaw, the muscle in his cheek … and the doubt in his eyes.

I groan and drop my face onto my folded arms. “You’re straight, aren’t you?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“But … but … class. And the dinner date you promised me.”

“I just wanted to sit next to you.” He holds up his hands like he’s been busted. “And I’m still all for that dinner date, uh, platonically.”

“Fuck, did I misread things.” I’m expecting him to do the awkward duck out, but Harrison stays put.

He’s still grinning. “You were really into me, huh?”

“Duh. You’re hot.”

“What did you think would happen up here?”

“Not gonna lie, blow jobs would have been my first pick.”

Seeing that huge frame on his knees for me, cap swung backward, soft eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks …

“Damn it.” My stupid cock is getting stupid hard.

“What was the first thing you noticed about me? Go.”

I cut him a look. “What?”

“Well, there had to be something. Let’s call it research.”

“You wanna know what I was attracted to?”

“Sure, doesn’t everyone?”

I turn to face him, elbow still propped on the window, while I try to figure out if he’s for real or is just baiting me to earn a punch to the face. “Seriously?”

“It’s as good of a conversation as any.”

I know what the real answer is: his friendly confidence. Sure, I’d noticed how hot he is first, but that would have been easy enough to ignore if he hadn’t acted like we were already best of friends. Still, I want to test this supposed coolness.

“Those blow job lips. Sorry to tell you this, but they were made for sucking dick.”

His mouth hangs open for a second. “Like you can talk. Your lips are like little pillows, dude.”

That shocks some of the disappointment from me. “Pillows? That was a gay thing to say.”

“Which is how you know it’s true. If I even noticed them, then yes. They’re big.”

“What else did you notice?”

“That someone likes to be complimented.”

That almost makes me laugh. “Wanna give me more?”

“It would actually be easy to give you a lot, but I’m not going to risk them going to your head.”

“Too late.” Just knowing there’s a lot makes me feel good. “Thanks for not freaking out and being a dick. It’s happened before.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. It’s not something you should be thanking anyone for though, like, fuck. Wires get crossed all the time. I did ask you out on a date, after all.”

“True.” I debate whether to push my luck. “Just let me know where and when.”

“This week sometime.” Harrison’s gaze catches on something. “No way. Is that Jell-O wrestling?”

“Sure is. Wanna go watch the hot chicks go at it?”

“Nah, I want a turn. You in?”

Rubbing our bare, slippery skin all over each other? Kill me now.

“Did you miss the part where I have six siblings? I’m a wrestling pro, big guy.”

“Guess we’re about to find out.”