“Where are you headed? And what’s in the boxes? It smells fantastic.”
“These are muffins and coffee cakes for church. There’s a gathering after the service.” Brad’s stomach growled and she grinned at him. She opened the top box and showed Brad rows of muffins inside. One looked like a standard blueberry, but the other had some kind of crumble on top. She picked out a muffin by its paper wrapper and handed it to him.
“Oh no, ma’am, that’s for your church.” Brad clasped his hands behind his back.
“Do not be silly,” she said. “Besides, it’s a new recipe. A French toast muffin. You can tell me if it is good.”
“I know it’s good,” he said, giving in and taking it from her. “I can smell how good it is.” He took a bite and groaned. “Oh, man, is there bacon in there? Mrs. Ortega, you are a culinary genius.”
“Good.” She looked at him for a minute. “Why are you up and running this early? You look tired.”
Brad swallowed the bite of muffin, groaning at the fabulous flavors, and leaned against the car. “I woke up early and needed to run. It helps sometimes when I have something on my mind.”
“Well, get some rest today. And eat something. You are too skinny.” She patted him on the cheek again before shutting the back door and opening the front. She slid into the minivan and waved.
Yeah, he thought as he finished the muffin, the Ortegas were something special, all right. They accepted him, and that was a gift he’d treasure.
Three hours and two loads of laundry later, Brad hauled a basket of clean clothes out of his truck. Danny sat on the bottom step of the stairs leading to Brad’s apartment with a backpack sitting next to him. He stood up, grabbed his bag and preceded Brad up the stairs to the door. “Laundromat?” Danny asked.
“I figured I might as well, since I had the time.” Brad shifted the basket to his hip so he could dig the key out of his pocket.
“You know Mamá would let you use the washer and dryer in the house.” Danny slung his backpack over one shoulder before taking the basket from Brad.
With both hands free, Brad unlocked and opened the door. He took the basket back from Danny, leading the way into his apartment.
“No way. I already feel like I’m taking advantage of you guys. There’s no reason I can’t do my laundry at City Suds.”
Danny shrugged. “Have it your way. At least you didn’t go to the one by the campus. People call it the Slosh and Wash. It’s a liquor store/laundromat combo. Ends up with some very strange people, let me tell you.”
“What’s in your bag?” Brad asked, setting his laundry on his bed. He pulled the towels off the top and set them on the little shelf in the bathroom.
“Entertainment.” Danny pulled three smallish boxes out and offered them to Brad.
Brad dumped an armful of rolled socks into a drawer and crossed the room. “DVDs? Lord of the Rings?” he asked, staring at the gold embossed covers.
“The extended editions,” Danny confirmed. “It’s supposed to storm this afternoon, and nothing is better on a rainy day than a movie marathon.”
Brad picked up the first box and opened it to reveal the discs and illustrated map of Middle Earth. “That’s like twelve hours of movies.”
“I know, which means we need to get started right away.”
“But I don’t have a television.”
“Ah, but you have a laptop. It’ll play movies, right?”
Brad smiled. “I guess it does. But what makes you think I would like these?”
“Don’t even try it.” Danny walked to the desk and pointed to a worn collection of Tolkien’s novels. “Books don’t look like that unless you read them a lot. And, unless you’re a purist, if you like the books, you’ll like the movies.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.”
“Excellent. I’m going to pop some popcorn while you finish putting your clothes away, since I know there’s no way you’re going to leave the laundry on the bed until later.”
While Brad finished his laundry, Danny tossed the popcorn into the microwave and, while it did its thing, he pushed the coffee table a little farther from the couch. He set the laptop in the middle of the table, plugged it in at a nearby outlet and turned it on. He proceeded to pull the couch cushions off the couch and set them on the floor in front of the coffee table.
“What are you doing?” Brad asked, setting the laundry basket in a corner next to the bed.
“If we’re going to watch a movie on a laptop monitor, we’re going to want to be a little closer to it. It won’t work if we’re sitting on the couch. This way we can sit on the floor without our butts getting numb, and the couch itself will give us a backrest.” The microwave dinged and Danny dashed to the kitchenette to grab the popcorn.
“Want something to drink before we get started?” Brad offered. “Of course, I only have milk and water.”
“I’ve got that covered.” Danny reached into the backpack again and withdrew two cans of soda.
“I know you don’t usually do pop, but I figured this would be an exception. You’ll need a bit of caffeine to sit through twelve hours of movies.”
Danny settled onto one of the cushions and slipped the first DVD into Brad’s laptop. Brad took one look at the greasy popcorn and cold sodas and grabbed a roll of paper towels from the top of the fridge/microwave combo. He sat on the other cushion and folded two paper towels into smaller squares to act as coasters for the sodas and laid the roll of towels behind the monitor.
Danny acted like nothing had happened the night before. If he could play it cool, Brad certainly could, but it seemed wrong somehow to ignore it completely. He watched the opening scene on the monitor without really seeing it. “I wanted to apologize.”
“You don’t—”
Brad continued before Danny could complete the objection. “And to thank you. You didn’t have to bring me back last night. It never occurred to you not to...so, thanks.”
They watched Hobbit party preparations in silence. Danny grabbed Brad’s hand under the coffee table and squeezed. “You’re welcome.” He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t release Brad’s hand, either.
Brad smiled and settled in more comfortably to watch the movie.
Chapter Fifteen
Straddling the line between “just friends” and “maybe more” with Brad was going to kill Danny. He stood up and stretched. Four hours sitting on the floor, even with the padding of a couch cushion, had knotted every muscle in his back. Watching movies had seemed like such a good idea. Low-pressure. Yeah, right. He’d spent more time watching Brad than the movie, and he was pretty sure he’d given himself whiplash jerking his head back to the computer monitor when Brad had almost caught him staring. The movie wasn’t cutting it. He needed a distraction. His stomach growled.
Brad looked up from where he was slipping the disc back into its cardboard packaging. “Hey, why don’t we order pizza? I said I’d take you out tonight, but since we’re spending the day in, let me treat for lunch.” He looked at the time on the bottom of his computer monitor. “Or lupper,” he corrected.
“Lupper?”
“Yeah, it’s what you get when you combine lunch and supper. Lupper.”
It was such a cutesy thing to say, especially for I-make-my-bed-every-morning Bradley Greene, that Danny couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, pizza sounds good. You don’t have to treat, though. I can get it or we can split it.”
“No. I’m good. With my paycheck last week I got the gear I needed and still have enough left to pick up a pizza. Unless you have another gift card you need to use?”
Danny rolled his eyes at the reminder of his less-than-subtle handling of their dinner out when Brad had first shown up. “No gift cards this time. But, seriously, man. I live with my parents and scholarships pay for most of my
tuition. I know you’re trying to save money and I can spare a pizza or two here and there.”
Brad stood and headed for his desk where he picked up his cell phone. “You call. You know what’s around and what’s good.”
Danny nearly lost his footing when Brad pressed his phone into Danny’s hand and then pulled him close for a hard, smacking kiss. “I appreciate the thought, but I got this,” he said after he’d broken away.
Danny blinked down at the phone, trying to make his eyes and brain cooperate. It took a minute, though, since his head was reeling and his lips were tingling. Brad had kissed him. And it had been casual, natural. Danny shook his head and dialed the phone. “What do you want on it?”
“I’m easy.”
He couldn’t be sure, but Danny thought Brad might have been smirking before he turned away and entered the little bathroom.
“If only,” Danny muttered.
“Excuse me?” There was a voice on the line. The pizza place must have answered the call while he was daydreaming.
“Oh, sorry.” Danny ordered a sausage and onion pizza. While he waited for Brad to finish in the bathroom, Danny picked up the empty soda cans and the paper towel coasters. Brad’s neat-freak tendencies should have driven him crazy, but instead he found them cute.
“You’ve got it so bad, Danny,” he said to himself. In the dining area he found a garbage can and a brown paper bag Brad obviously used to hold recyclables. He threw the paper towels into the trash and the cans into the bag. When he was finished, Brad had come back and was sitting cross-legged on the cushionless couch, staring at the idle computer.
“I’ve been meaning to say something to you,” Brad said, looking up at Danny.
“Yeah?” He settled onto the opposite side of the couch and mirrored Brad’s position.
“You were right.”
Not what I was expecting. Danny forced a casual shrug. “Yeah, I know. I usually am.” He winked, hoping if he played it off, Brad wouldn’t notice how turned around he was. “But, for clarity’s sake, about what?”
“Last night. When you told me to man up and stop feeling sorry for myself.”
“That’s not what I said!”
Brad shifted to wrap his arms around his knees. “Close enough. I thought about it, and realized you said it because I needed to hear it. You’re a good friend.”
Friend. Ouch.
“You remember when I said I wasn’t in a position to start something with someone?” Brad scooted close, near enough the two of them almost touched toes.
Danny swallowed and tried to concentrate past the rapid flow of blood that fled out of his head, paused to pound furiously in his chest, then dropped straight to his crotch. Brad leaned forward and Danny flinched when a hand landed on his knees. “Yes.” His voice cracked, so Danny tried again. “Yeah, I remember.”
“I take it back.” It was the only warning before Brad shifted to his knees and captured Danny’s mouth. Danny was helpless to do anything but lie back and experience. Good Lord, Brad could kiss. He wanted to stay like this forever. His leg had other ideas, though. He didn’t know how long they’d been at it when his right calf—still folded in front of him and covered by Brad’s weight—started to cramp.
“Ouch, ouch.” Danny pulled back and tried to unwind his legs. Stretching one leg out between Brad’s body and the back of the couch, his other foot found the floor. The movement caused their bodies to realign in incredible and excruciating ways.
“Oh, Christ,” Danny hissed when he and Brad were suddenly plastered against each other, chest-to-chest and groin-to-groin. Danny had no doubts Brad was happy to be exactly where he was, doing exactly what they were doing. He also had no doubts Brad now knew Danny was just as happy. Their eyes met and Danny did his damnedest not to move. He was afraid any movement he made would start something he wouldn’t be able to stop and he didn’t want to scare Brad away. He had no idea where this new...enthusiasm had come from, but Danny sure as hell didn’t want to ruin it.
The honk of a car in the driveway broke through the tension. With visible reluctance Danny was more than a little pleased to see, Brad pushed himself up and off the couch. His breaths came in ragged pants and he ran his hand over his face then through his light brown hair, making it stand in tufts. “Pizza.” He looked around blankly for a minute before rushing to the desk and grabbing his wallet. “I’ll get the pizza.”
When the door closed behind Brad, Danny still could only formulate a single word. Intense. That had been fucking intense.
Brad stopped to lean against the door as soon as it latched behind him. Holy Christ, that had been...more than he’d expected. Part of him, the one he was determined to repress, still worried getting close to Danny was a mistake. His body—stupid hormones—wanted to tell that part of him to shut the fuck up so they could get back to what they were doing.
“Hey, you order a pizza?” A guy in his early twenties stood at the door of a rusted out sedan with a pizza logo displayed on the roof.
The tangy scents of tomato sauce and oregano made his stomach growl. Brad tried to calculate an appropriate tip, but his brain was still fogged by the make-out session with Danny. Giving up on the complications of percentages and dollars, he grabbed a twenty and a five from his wallet and shoved them at the driver. “Thanks,” he said as he took the box.
“Hey, Brad!”
Brad turned at Ray’s voice. The older guy let the screen door slam behind him and sauntered toward Brad.
Something about the way Ray looked at him, as though examining him and finding him lacking, made Brad’s muscles tense in a knee-jerk fight-or-flight preparation. The air was thick with the incoming storm, heavy and cloying. There was no reason for the chills racing over Brad’s arms.
“Danny up there?” Ray nodded to the garage apartment.
“We’re watching movies,” Brad said, edging toward the steps.
“Bet that isn’t all you’ve been doing.”
The pizza jerked in Brad’s hands. “Excuse me?”
“What? You don’t think I can’t tell what you’ve been up to? Dude, your hair’s a mess and your mouth is swollen. It’s pretty obvious you two were going at it. Watching a movie, my ass.”
Brad closed his eyes and tried to gain some of his military school composure. “Ray, it’s none of your business.” Proud he managed to keep his voice cool and not betray the nerves throwing a party in his guts, Brad said, “Was there something else you wanted?”
“Yeah.” Ray moved closer until only the pizza box separated them. “I want you to leave Danny alone. He’s a good kid and doesn’t need someone like you messing with him.”
“Someone like me?” Brad’s heart lodged in his throat. This was exactly the kind of conversation he could imagine Nolan having with some guy taking advantage of Brad. With his brother, the confrontation had led to violence. Was Ray going to threaten him?
“You’re a rich kid slumming. You wear two-hundred-dollar jeans and three-hundred-dollar running shoes. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, working construction and living like a broke dude, but you need to leave Danny out of it. He deserves someone better than that.”
He could have explained that his parents provided his wardrobe while he attended Norton, but it really wasn’t any of Ray’s business. Besides, he was done with that life. Instead he said, “Deserves better? That’s funny, coming from you. Aren’t you the one who tried to set him up with Rob of the roving hands and inability to understand the word no?”
There was something in Ray’s eyes that said his comment had hit home. If Ray was so protective of his little brother, why had he tried to hook him up with someone who was so obviously a douche?
“Whatever.” With an irritated shrug, Ray shoved the pizza box at Brad before stalking back into the house.
“What took y
ou so long?” Danny asked when Brad brought the pizza into the apartment. While Brad had been gone grabbing the pizza, Danny had set the coffee table up for their “lupper.” Two plates, two glasses of ice water and two paper towels sat next to the computer. The cushions had been put back onto the couch. Danny was pulling the first disc of the second movie out of its case.
“Your brother was outside and we chatted for a minute.”
Danny stilled, his eyes darting to Brad’s. “What did he want?”
“He wanted to know what we were up to. What do you think he wanted?”
“Oh, nothing.” Danny busied himself with the DVD and angling the monitor just so.
The dude couldn’t lie for anything. “You don’t play poker, do you?”
“Poker?”
“Yeah, poker. Let me tell you, don’t ever try bluffing. You don’t have a poker face at all.” Brad considered pushing for more information, but his stomach growled and he decided it could wait.
By the time the pizza was eaten and the dishes put away—and washed, much to Danny’s amusement—the movie had been playing for an hour and Brad wasn’t altogether sure he knew what was going on. His mind—and his body—was distracted by the mere proximity of Danny. An hour later, they had somehow ended up lying on the couch, Danny’s slim body tucked in front of Brad’s. The couch wasn’t wide enough, but Brad wouldn’t have moved for the world. Though they were both facing the monitor and the action on the screen, Brad couldn’t even pretend to watch the movie any longer.
Every inhale pressed his chest against Danny’s shoulder blades. With every exhale, Danny tightened his hand over Brad’s, which rested against Danny’s abs. The battles of Hobbits, men and elves waged on the screen, but Viggo Mortensen could have donned a sparkly pink tutu and Brad wouldn’t have noticed a thing except the heat of Danny’s skin under his T-shirt.
“Are you still watching the movie?” Voice husky, Danny turned until he faced Brad, scooting up until they were eye to eye.
Nobody’s Hero Page 12