Page 9 of Regret Me Not

“Is there any other kind?”

“I had a liberal judge let me off a traffic ticket once,” Pierce told him, just to ease some of the bitterness.

Hal grinned at him. “In California?”

“Yeah. In California.” Pierce winked and then sighed. “Well, the heat has effectively sucked all the energy from my bones, and it’s time for me to go take my nap.”

“Oh God—I’m sorry. Here—let me help you out.”

Pierce didn’t refuse his help per se, just tried to do most of the work himself. He leaned heavily on the rail and took solid, shuffling steps on his own, trying to get to the table. Finally Hal huffed in exasperation.

“I’m stronger than I look, okay? Just lean on me a little. Jesus, what could happen?”

“I could put too much weight on you, you could overbalance, I could land wrong and call you a horrible name that I’ll regret for the rest of my life,” Pierce snarled. “You seem to like me a little—at the moment, it’s the only win I’ve got.”

Oh dammit dammit dammit—way to go and injure the frickin’ unicorn, Pierce!

But his unicorn wasn’t looking cowed or wounded or any of the things Sasha had.

“Well, it’s not much of a win if you don’t trust me to hold some of your weight. Now come on—here!” Hal tucked his hand under Pierce’s elbow, and Pierce had no choice. He leaned. Together they made it to the table, where his cane sat accusingly, as did the sandals that would protect his feet from the deck.

Hal helped him balance as he slid his feet into the flip-flops. “I really did put you through your paces,” he said grudgingly. “You did it all like a champ, but you should carb up a little when you get back to your condo. What’re you going to have for lunch?”

Pierce thought about the groceries Sasha and Marshall had brought over. “Can of soup and some crackers,” he announced, because hey—he had enough of that stuff to last him for four more days if he ate it day and night, like he had been.

“Not good enough,” Hal said grimly, handing him his cane and then wrapping his towel over his shoulders. “Lead me to your condo, oh emaciated one—let me see your stores.”

Oh… hell no. No.“I know you have something better to do,” Pierce told him, hating feeling this vulnerable.

Hal appeared to think about it. “Hm… meeting world leaders for lunch, solving hunger for dinner, penning my novel before I go to bed… but right the hell now, I really only have to go see if my neighbor has anything to eat before he starves himself to death because he’s a stubborn asshole!”

“I have food,” Pierce muttered. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Oh, but I do.” Hal took off his sunglasses with his free hand and batted his eyelashes. They stood close enough that Pierce could see the true, remarkable gold-brown of his eyes.

His throat went dry. “I’d rather not be an object of pity,” he said, knowing he couldn’t be more pathetic if he tried.

“Then let me feed you so I don’t feel sorry for you,” Hal said sweetly, but he was standing very still and staring at Pierce soberly.

Pierce nodded just to break the moment—them, frozen, staring at each other. But nothing could erase the heat of Hal’s skin as he continued to escort Pierce down the sidewalk.

“Nobody uses the pool,” Pierce mumbled, realizing this was their second day alone.

“Later,” Hal told him, surprisingly. “A few people come out to sun themselves later. But it’s not prime condo season right now.”

Pierce grunted and continued his trek. “The holidays.”

“Yeah.”

The word had the ring of loneliness in it, and Pierce looked at him in question. But this time it was Hal’s turn to be looking away.

“You, uh… spending the holidays here—that wasn’t your idea, was it?”

He shrugged. “Told you—too gay to be an asset.”

“Is that, uh, just for the holidays, or is that for the rest of the year?”

Hal grimaced. “Let’s just say that next semester, I am enrolled in fifteen credits of poli sci at UNC and leave it at that.”