Off Base

by Annabeth Albert

  “I could do that, sir.” With Google by my side. He crossed those fingers a little harder.

  “What would you say to helping me out in your off time, but you could stay there rent free?”

  “I’d say yes, sir. I’d be pleased to help you.”

  “It’s a three-bedroom place. If you know another guy looking for housing, feel free to ask him too—the work would go faster with more hands.”

  “I can handle it, sir,” Zack said firmly. No way, no how was he rooming with anyone again. And the fact that he’d never done renovation? Not going to be an issue.

  Chapter Four

  August

  “You sure you’ve got this?” The senior chief helped Zack set the box inside the bathroom. Really, Zack could have carried the toilet by himself. Surely installing it wasn’t a two-man job.

  “Absolutely. Go check on the family.” Zack walked the older man back through the house, mentally noting all the things left to do. Ratty hall carpet. Baseboards in dire need of paint. Dingy walls in the living room. Ancient miniblinds in the front windows. He and the senior chief had spent the day making a list of what needed to be done, and they’d done the first of what looked to be several massive Home Depot trips.

  And judging by the number of texts and phone calls he got, the senior chief had stayed away from home too long. Zack could totally handle a toilet install on his own. Him, his search engine and a pizza. What better way to spend a Saturday off, right?

  Dancing. Warm bodies. The burn of Fireball. Unbidden, images from that night back in June crept into his head. Next week, he was scheduled to go to Santa Monica for a fast trip for Ryan’s birthday. And maybe...

  Nope. Zack shook his head, trying to clear the haze and lingering threads of club songs. Installing a new can should be exactly the distraction he needed.

  One pizza and lot of YouTube tutorials later, Zack was ready to tackle removing the old, cracked toilet.

  “Mother f—” Zack sputtered as water hit him square in the face. Water valve off. Idiot. He could defuse a bomb under pressure. No way was he being defeated by a crapper. The tutorials had warned him that getting the water out could get gross, and they weren’t kidding. Then he ripped the sucker out, sweating more than he thought he would. The bolts were corroded and disgusting. Damn thing was slippery and unwieldy as fuck but finally he tossed it in the big Dumpster the senior chief had arranged for.

  Now to install the new water-saving model they’d picked out. The place where the toilet had been was gross, and Zack did not like gross, especially not the odors coming up from the pipe.

  “Stupid fucker!” he shouted two hours later as he still didn’t have it right. Somehow water had sprayed again, and even worse, it was leaking around the base of the toilet, which meant he’d probably fucked up the wax seal. A trip to the home store yielded another wax seal kit, this one on his dime, because no way was he confessing how hard this was to the senior chief. More scraping. More cleaning.

  He slammed the toilet down a second time, being extra firm, and...

  Cracked the fucking bowl. Which he didn’t realize until he’d connected everything again and discovered water leaking again.

  Now it was another trip, this one right before the home store closed for the evening. Another toilet, this one making his credit card wince. Then after getting that installed—finally—he had to pull the carpet from the hallway so he could disguise the second toilet in the Dumpster. It was pushing midnight by the time he finished, and he’d rubbed his hands raw with the carpet pulling because he’d forgotten gloves.

  And apparently he had a dust allergy to boot, judging from his watering eyes and itchy face.

  Fuck. He climbed into the shower. Maybe living off base wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  * * *

  “Zack’s here,” Pike’s longtime friend Josiah said as he let him into his boyfriend Ryan’s birthday party, which was really simply an excuse to eat snack food and game together.

  “Why should that matter to me?” Pike asked carefully.

  “Uh, because you always care when Zack’s around.” Josiah laughed. This wasn’t strictly true—ever since their night of drinking together, Pike had been nothing but relieved when Zack hadn’t turned up for activities with their crowd. Whatever harmless crush he’d had had died that night, replaced by something far more complicated and tangled, but he wasn’t explaining all that to Josiah, so he just shrugged.

  “And when I told him you were coming, he looked like he ate bad shrimp. Something going on with you guys?” Josiah’s eyes narrowed. Great. All Pike needed was a suspicious best friend.

  “Nope.” Pike set his chips and soda on the breakfast bar in Ryan and Josiah’s small kitchen. “I’m too busy freaking out about my own shit to worry about his.”

  “Still no luck?” Josiah grabbed one of the Sriracha chips, then coughed and grabbed a cup of water. “Jeez. Warn a guy, why don’t you?”

  “Sorry. And yeah, I never thought the hard part of finally getting a job would be finding a place to live.”

  “Well, talk to Zack while he’s here. He knows San Diego better than you. And he’s moving off base.”

  “Zack knows what?” The guy himself wandered over.

  “San Diego,” Josiah said.

  Pike nodded, but he didn’t need an audience—or worse, assistance—for his housing quest. And it wasn’t like the Zack idea hadn’t already occurred to him a time or twelve, but they’d left things rather...awkward, and something in him had held back.

  “Kind of,” Zack said, shrugging. He was carefully avoiding Pike’s eyes. Yup. Awkward. “I’ve been mainly on base or close to base since I’ve been there. You looking to vacation or something?”

  “Ha. I wish I had the cash for a vacation. No, I’ve accepting a visiting professor gig at a college in San Diego. I’m having a terrible time finding a place for me and the cats in my tiny price range.”

  Zack’s eyes went wide, with him no doubt realizing that this put Pike on his turf, put the memories of that night too close to the surface for a guy who liked to button it all down. This was why Pike hadn’t contacted him. That “how could you do this to me?” look.

  “I know what you mean about high rents,” Zack said, voice deceptively casual. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to live off base until my senior chief came to me with this rehab deal where I’m helping him with a rental house.”

  “How can I get a deal like that?” Pike leaned forward on the counter. “Seriously. That’s exactly what I need, as long as I can bring the cats.”

  “There’s more than one bedroom in your place, isn’t there?” Josiah inserted himself back into the conversation.

  Zack stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth, undoubtedly to avoid answering. “Holy mother of God, what are these?” The wounded, confused look he shot Pike made Pike’s chest swell—as if he trusted Pike to not hurt his mouth.

  And hell if Pike didn’t want that trust and responsibility. Man, you are so fucked up over this guy. He grabbed a soda from the counter, popped it open and passed it to Zack. “Here. Drink.”

  “Thanks.” Zack took a long swig of soda. He turned to Josiah. “I do not need a roommate. Don’t even go there.”

  “I’m not.” Pike held up his hands, even though for cheap or no rent he’d go all sorts of places.

  The doorbell rang before Josiah could make things worse. “Oops. Better get that,” he said, leaving Pike and Zack alone in the kitchen. Okay. Forget that assessment. This was worse, all long pause and nervous glances, the memory of that night looming large.

  “I can ask around, see if there’s another place that might work for you, but even if you were one of those guys from HGTV come to bail me out, I like living alone. Sorry.” Zack took another drink of his soda, still not meeting Pike’s eyes.r />
  “Asking around” wasn’t going to get Pike a place quick enough, but a glimmer of idea took hold, made him lean back against the counter. “That what you need? A renovation expert? Because if so, I’m your guy.”

  “You’re my guy?” Good Lord, the doubt and fear dripping from Zack’s voice was almost enough to make Pike want to kiss him senseless until Zack had no choice but to agree. This is such a terrible idea. Yeah, it really was, but Pike was just this side of crazy. He could make it work.

  “My mom is renovation nuts. She buys a fixer-upper, does a bunch of stuff to it, then sells it and moves on to another property. It’s how she put me through college. You need carpet ripped, floors refinished, walls knocked down? I can do it all except electrical.”

  “My dad’s an insurance salesman,” Zack said. “He probably owns some tools, but they’ve lived in the same subdivision my whole life. Something needed fixing, he just hired it done. Your mom sounds like...a character.”

  “She’s amazing,” Pike said sharply.

  “I meant cool. She sounds really cool.” Zack gave him a rueful grin. “Wish I had that kind of experience. This is going to be...challenging. I mean, I can do it, but—”

  “You really going to give yourself a crash course in DIY in addition to your training?” Pike wasn’t so sure. And that hardly sounded safe either if Zack let himself be distracted or go without sleep to get this job done. “Man, just let me help. Won’t kill you to have another pair of hands. And you’ll barely notice I’m there, I promise.”

  “Ha.” Zack snorted. “Like you’re quiet.”

  “Hey, I can be.” Pike held up his hands. “And the cats are no trouble at all, really. But if I don’t find a place quick, I might have to rehome them—”

  Zack gasped and Pike knew he had him, bless his animal lover’s soul. “You can’t do that. The big one’s so unusual and the littler one, it’s too shy. Rehoming them would be terrible.”

  “I know. But I’ve got less than two weeks to find a place. I’m running out of time.”

  Zack’s eyes narrowed and his built shoulders drew back. Good. He was slipping into Mr. navy SEAL “I can fix this” mode. God, Pike loved that mode. “You can really do the renovation thing? You’re not just shitting me?”

  “Nope. I can do it, promise.”

  “And uh...no...uh...” Zack was turning several shades of pink, big-shot SEAL slipping a bit.

  “No flirting? You’ve got it.” Pike put him out of his misery. He couldn’t explain it even to himself, but his urge to carelessly flirt with Zack the way he did with the rest of his friends seemed to have fled anyway. Too much tension to relax into his usual self. And ordinarily, that tension would be a reason for him to run from this arrangement. But any port in a storm and all that. Better Zack, who wasn’t sure whether he trusted him or not, than being stuck with some random person who might turn out to be crazy pants. “We’re just a pair of buds, helping each other out.”

  Pike tried to tell Zack with his eyes that he wouldn’t be bringing up the memory of that night, wouldn’t be reminding him about how well they danced together, wouldn’t be angling to take him to San Diego’s gay bars...

  Yup. Terrible idea. This plan is doomed. Even knowing that didn’t stop him from celebrating when Zack sighed and said, “Let me make a call.”

  * * *

  Zack was going to regret this six ways to Sunday. Hell, he was already double-guessing himself. But after the toilet fiasco it had been one disaster after another, and holy hell, there was a crap ton of work that needed doing, most of which he had no clue how to start. Not that he doubted his ability to get the job done, but he was looking at an awful lot of trial and error and late nights with tutorials. And money he didn’t have, replacing stuff when he messed up and didn’t want to admit it.

  And then here was Pike, like some redheaded knight, charging in to save the day. And he needed a place for those cats...

  Damn you for being a sucker for animals in need. Growing up, he’d vacillated between wanting to be in the navy and wanting to be a vet. He was always rescuing small animals and driving his mom nuts. And even now, all it had taken was the vision of Pike’s poor cats at the shelter to have him wavering on his no-roommates stance.

  So here he was on Josiah and Ryan’s back patio, kicking the bark dust while he waited for the senior chief to answer his phone.

  “Nelson? Everything okay?” the senior chief barked as he came on the line.

  “Fine, Senior Chief, sir.” Zack gulped. “It’s just...remember you said about finding someone else to split the house with?”

  “Oh that. Yes. You find someone else looking to get off base?”

  “Not exactly.” Zack scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’ve got a buddy in LA who’s an ace at renovation stuff.” I hope to God he’s not lying about that. “And he recently accepted a teaching job in San Diego.”

  “Ah. I see.” There was a long pause. “Can you get me his contact information? I’ll just run the same quick check we do on other renters.”

  “I can do that, sir. Thank you.”

  “So this is a friend or a...friend?” There was no mistaking the senior chief’s emphasis. And while his tone was nothing other than conversational, Zack still recoiled, throat burning like he’d downed the whole bag of those fire chips.

  “Friend. Just a friend. Sir. Acquaintance really. Friend of my best friend, that sort of deal.” Fuck he was rambling, and he couldn’t seem to rein himself in.

  “That’s fine.” The older man’s voice was a soothing rumble. “Just checking.”

  Just checking. Fuck, this was a terrible idea. He already had Cobb riding him hard, and while he’d never once heard the senior chief join in the gay jokes, he couldn’t risk anyone getting the wrong idea. He opened his mouth, ready to take the request back, but through the sliding glass door to the patio, he saw Pike smiling widely as he gestured while talking to Josiah. He looked so relieved compared to how tense he’d been in the kitchen. And then Zack pictured those damn cats. Fuck. What a FUBAR mess.

  He was a man of his word. It was how he’d gotten through BUD/S and SQT. If he said he was going to do something, he did it. No questions asked. And he’d told Pike he could make this work. But hell if he knew exactly how.

  Chapter Five

  All of Pike’s belongings fit into the smallest moving truck the rental place had. Bed. Desk. Gaming systems. Computers. He’d had pretty much the same number of possessions since his senior year in college. Because Landon was busy with his research and had had barely enough time to help them load, Josiah had volunteered to follow Pike down to San Diego in Pike’s beater car and then drive the truck back.

  “One might think you’re eager to get me out of La-La land,” Pike grumbled, trying to hide his discomfort with gratitude. He never knew how to thank people properly for doing nice things for him.

  “Yup. That’s it.” Josiah let him have his fiction. “You’re Zack’s problem now.”

  “Zack is a problem.” Pike wasn’t kidding about that. Zack had sent Pike a rental application that Senior Chief Weber wanted filled out, and he’d had a whole list of dire warnings of what would happen if Pike wasn’t 100 percent honest and respectful.

  Pish. Like Pike couldn’t figure that out on his own. And Zack had insisted on them doing the moving on one of his off days. Pike was under no illusions that it wasn’t pure helpfulness driving that requirement—he didn’t trust Pike not to fuck up the house. And apparently Senior Chief Weber would be stopping by too, to “lay eyeballs” on him.

  Fuck. No one trusted him to be a functioning adult. Even Josiah, who could be the King of Spacey, kept bugging him to make sure he had everything and insisted on double-checking the way the truck was loaded.

  They put the cat cases in the rental truck’s front s
eat, right next to Pike. And three hours later, he was wishing he’d insisted the foul-tempered beasts ride with Josiah. Or on top of the truck. Heck, he wouldn’t be surprised if the surrounding traffic could hear them. Gizmo howled. Nectarine wailed, her plaintive meows making Pike grind his teeth. And that was with the special “relaxer” spray he’d spritzed their carriers with. By the time the GPS led them to a sleepy street close to the base, Pike was every bit as frantic as his cats.

  Josiah had beaten him there by a few minutes, and he and Zack were waiting on the small cement slab porch. The house was a nondescript ranch of indeterminate age with weathered cream siding and a few straggly brown plants on the small lawn. A large Dumpster took up part of the driveway, necessitating careful parking on Pike’s part. With an audience. Fuck. He narrowly avoided clipping the Dumpster.

  “Do you have a room we could shut the cats in?” Pike asked, too frazzled to greet them properly.

  “Yeah. I got the laundry room ready, actually.” Zack opened the front door of the house while Pike brought the cat carriers in. “Figured the last thing we’d need is them escaping.”

  “I’ll start with the boxes,” Josiah said.

  Zack led Pike through an empty living room and empty dining room to a shabby kitchen with a mudroom off it. To Pike’s surprise, Zack even had a litter box waiting.

  “Didn’t want any accidents.” Zack colored adorably when Pike stared at the little area Zack had made—he’d even put down a folded blanket and some water.

  “Thanks.” Pike opened the carriers and left the cats to come out at their leisure. Gizmo bolted out while Nectarine cowered in her case. Gizmo, the traitor, wove his way between Zack’s legs, like Zack was their great savior.

  “Guess he remembers you,” Pike said, and just like that, the memory of that night hung between them. The dancing. The kiss that could have been.

  “You ever...” Zack started, then clamped his mouth shut.

  “What?” Pike raised an eyebrow.