Nothing to Gain (Learning the Ropes #2) - E.M. Denning Page 0,14

I can’t make myself care about people the way they want me to.”

Linden didn’t know what to say. He doubted a hug would help, which was a shame because Linden was used to using touch to comfort people. Linden shifted to the edge of the bed and pointed at the floor. “Sit.”

Ricky raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. With Ricky’s back to him, Linden started massaging Ricky’s shoulders.

Ricky groaned. “Oh, shit, Linden. That feels amazing.”

Linden tugged at Ricky’s shirt, and lifted it off, discarding it on the floor.

“Whether or not you ever fall in love, you’re still a person worth knowing.” Linden kissed the top of Ricky’s head.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all mushy. Rub me.”

Linden snorted. “You wish.”

“I do. I’d fuck you. You’re cute as hell.”

Color crept into Linden’s cheeks. He didn’t see Ricky that way, but he didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“That’s not what I signed up for.”

“I know. Besides, it’s probably some dirty old professor you’re lusting after.”

“Uh, no.” Linden rolled his eyes. “Definitely not.”

“Come on. All the gay boys have a thing for Thurston. He gives off mad daddy vibes. And you said he was unobtainable.”

“Why are you like this?” Linden flopped backward onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. To his surprise, Ricky stretched out next to him. They weren’t cuddling, but it was a step in the right direction. “For the record, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Most of the time I believe that.”

7

Brett

“So what’s with you and mister Thursday night?” Brett asked Ansel, who poked at his whole grain cereal. Something new for him. Until now, Ansel had strictly been a cocoa puff kind of guy.

Ansel’s gaze snapped up. “Nothing. Why?”

“Nothing? Come on, Ansel. Really? You’re eating horse food for breakfast. The Ansel I know wouldn’t dream of touching this stuff.”

Ansel shrugged. “I’m trying new things. Pushing my limits. That’s all. Nothing to worry about.” Ansel shoved a bit of the cereal into his mouth and grimaced. He chewed and swallowed, but got up and drained the milk in the sink before scraping the contents of his bowl in the trash. “I might be trying new things, but that cereal is never going to happen.”

Ansel leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s going on with you?”

“Me?”

“You came in with at least six shades of lipstick that aren’t anything you’d ever wear. And you bought an eyeshadow palette you said you only liked one color of.”

Brett blinked at his best friend.

“Oh, come on, Brett. I’ve been your friend since literally forever ago. I might not know everything about cosmetics, but I don’t block out everything you say.”

Brett took a deep breath. There was no way he could betray Linden’s confidence. But he also couldn’t lie to his best friend.

“I bought them as a gift for someone and that’s all I can tell you because the rest is private.”

Ansel’s eyebrows shot up, but he was quick to school his features. “Okay. I can respect that. But if you bring home green hair dye, I might have to stage an intervention.”

“Oh, trust me. That will never happen. Ever again. Ever.”

“It took a while before I stopped calling you Kermit.”

Brett scowled. “Stop. We promised never to speak of that again. It was supposed to be lime green.”

“Ribbit.”

“I will hurt you.”

Ansel looked unaffected by Brett’s threat. “So how come you can’t tell me who the makeup is for?” Ansel shook his head. “No, wait, don’t answer that. I’m being super intrusive. I’m not used to there being secrets between us.”

“You take off once a week with a mysterious bag and you don’t tell me about what you do. It’s okay for friends to not share everything. Is it the reason you’re eating rabbit pellets for breakfast?”

Ansel took a deep breath. “Yes, and no. Where I go… for my hobby, let’s call it, there’s lots of people who don’t exist on a diet of cocoa puffs, frappuccinos, and vegetables every third day. They’re ripped and toned and I mentioned feeling out of place. A friend has been giving me tips on eating better. That’s all.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad about yourself. You’re cute as a button.” Sure, he wore a few extra pounds around his waist, but Brett thought it was part of his adorable charm.

“That’s the problem.” Ansel threw his hands in the air. He always did gesture a lot when he was upset, and right now he was on the verge of full-flail mode. “I don’t want to be cute.