Nothing to Gain (Learning the Ropes #2) - E.M. Denning Page 0,15

I want to be hot. I’m tired of looking like a marshmallow. I can’t even spell marshmallow. And I don’t know what that has to do with it, but there it is.”

“You’re really upset about this.” Brett stood and went to Ansel. He tugged his friend into a hug. “You’re not a marshmallow, but if this is something you want, I’m behind you one-hundred percent. Let me know how to support you, and I’ll do it.”

Ansel sniffed. “Really? But you hated my cereal.”

“I didn’t hate your cereal.” Sometimes Brett forgot how sensitive his friend could be. “It surprised me, that’s all. If you want, I can help you find a tastier alternative to the rabbit pellets, and a healthier option than cocoa puffs.”

Ansel pressed his forehead against Brett’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss cocoa puffs.”

“You don’t have to go without. It shouldn’t be about depriving yourself.”

“I cannot moderate my puff intake. It’s an all-or-nothing thing.”

“Then I’ll hide them in my room. And you get one bowl a week.”

Ansel pulled away. “That’s childish and ridiculous. I don’t need someone to hide my cereal.” A smile tugged at the corners of Ansel’s mouth. “Would you really do that for me?”

“You know I’d do anything for you. If you wanted, I could prepare healthy lunches for you and leave them in the fridge. I know you like convenient foods.”

“God, you make me sound so lazy.”

“I don’t mean it that way.” Brett tried to keep himself from scowling at his friend. Ansel was already on edge and this was a sensitive subject, but it irritated him that Ansel would believe Brett was doing anything besides trying his best to be there for his friend. “All I meant was, meal prep helps lots of people stay on track, and I’d be willing to help you out with it, that’s all.”

Ansel pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I know you’re being nice and I’m all hyper-sensitive and cranky about it.”

“It’s fine. Change is hard. But if it’s something you really want, I’ll help you out, okay?”

Ansel took a breath and pulled himself together. “I do like your cooking. And anything is healthier than the trash I usually eat. You take such good care of me.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Brett enjoyed looking after his friend. After all Ansel did for him, hiding his cereal and making him healthy lunches was the least he could do. “I want to see you happy.”

“I want the same for you. You take care of me, of Eric, of everyone you know. You need someone to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.” Brett bristled. “I’ve been doing a good job of it for a long time.”

Ansel looked at Brett with wide, sad eyes. “I know that. But you don’t have to do it all alone, you know.”

“Well, I’ve tried dating. The guys I like don’t like guys like me. I’ve established that over and over. Besides, I’m fine. I like my job. I have good friends. I don’t need love to complete me. That thought is archaic and makes me gag. I’m a complete person all on my own.”

“Now who’s getting snippy?” Ansel brushed a strand of hair out of Brett’s face. “I know you’re amazing all on your own. But I know you want someone to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

The way Brett used to wish Ansel could love him. But his infatuation with his friend had been one-sided and, thankfully, short-lived. He realized quickly that it had come from a place of gratitude and not from a place that wanted to be with Ansel that way. Once he recognized his hero worship for what it was, it had passed quickly.

But it had been hard not to fall for him a little. When Brett’s parents kicked him out, he went to Ansel, not expecting him to move heaven and earth to make sure he was safe. If you asked Ansel, he’d say that he only asked his Mom if Brett could stay.

That was only partly true. Ansel had asked, but he’d also arranged with Brett’s brother to get their parents out of the house so Ansel and his mom could go get his things. Brett had told him he didn’t need his things, but Ansel insisted.

Brett hadn’t wanted to go, so he’d stayed at Ansel’s while they gathered his stuff. That night, Ansel’s mom took them to dinner and a movie. On her way to bed, she’d kissed Ansel on the cheek, then