“Nic, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“It’s not your place to say anything. I threw away the best friendship I ever had because you said something that scared me,” Nicholas said, and despondency clouded his eyes the way early morning mist skews the landscape. “I let it go even before that. I was a shit friend to you back then. I had my head up my own ass after your mom died. And I should have reacted better when you told me what you told me. I’ve spent so long wanting to find some way to make this right, but I never knew where you were. I asked Kate a few years ago, the last time she was in town to visit Andy—”
“She’s a partner at her firm now,” Ben interjected, registering the numbness in his tone as he struggled to process everything Nicholas had said so far.
Nicholas gave a dismissive nod as if this was not important. “I asked her, and she just said you were ‘around’ like you were hanging out at the diner.”
“Kate never mentioned it,” Ben said, frowning as he wondered why his sister would have kept this to herself. He could take a guess, though.
Kate had been his rock when he first moved from Point Pleasant. He had spent an unreasonable number of nights crashing on her sofa in Boston. She had listened with sisterly sympathy as Ben—a few beers to the wind—confessed his idiocy and cowardice regarding the situation with Nicholas. Kate had seemed unsurprised by his revelation. “You can’t be sorry for who you love, Benji,” she had said. “Nic might not return the sentiment, but that’s his fucking loss, isn’t it?”
“I just—I miss you,” Nicholas admitted, drawing Ben from his thoughts.
“I missed you too, Nic.” The words were out before Ben even realized he was going to say them, but they spilled forth in earnest.
“I just kept waiting for you to show up in town someday,” Nicholas said, and a mournful smile flickered across his lips. “Even after I realized you weren’t coming home.”
“I’m sorry for that,” Ben said, bolstered by the warmth of the alcohol that tingled through his system. “I would have liked to talk to you. But I meant what I said that night. I meant it with everything, and I don’t think I could have seen you after that. It would have hurt more.”
Ben stared at the pavement and felt like he had just exposed a nerve to the cold wind. He fidgeted to keep himself from going stiff in the frosty air.
“I just want you to know I’m sorry, Ben,” Nicholas said, his voice a broken whisper. “I’m sorry for all of it.”
Ben digested the apology and gave a faint nod. “It’s in the past.”
“I have so much I need to say to you,” Nicholas said.
Ben bounced up and down on his heels and shivered from the cold. “Can you say it indoors? It’s fucking freezing out here, Nolan.”
“Come on,” Nicholas said with a faint laugh. His breath was visible on the night air like smoke from a cigarette. Once they were inside the house on Dunmore, Nicholas took Ben’s coat and hung it up next to his own.
“Do you want another beer?”
“Sure.” Ben licked his lips, and he noticed that Nicholas’ eyes were locked on the action.
Nicholas seemed to hesitate before he wrested himself from whatever thought had overtaken him and led them to the kitchen. He pulled two Coronas out of the fridge and popped them open using a cabinet door handle. He offered a bottle to Ben, who might have been a little drunk but could not ignore the deliberate brush of the other man’s fingers against his own.
Nicholas took a long drink from his bottle and stepped forward.
“Nic—” Ben started, and he shifted to the side. “Pizza?”
Nicholas did not respond, but he stole closer. Ben could make out the dark blue flecks in his irises. A rush of emotions flooded his chest with something far warmer than the soft haze of alcohol as he breathed in the scent of Nicholas’ cologne once more.
Ben wanted to close the gap between them. He wanted to stand pressed to Nicholas’ torso and seal their lips together with finality. He wanted to be the one to make Nicholas feel all the things he had not found with Lily.
But Ben could not, no, he would not; he refused to open up that old wound and feel that rejection again. He glanced away and took a nervous sip of his beer as he kept his vision locked on the kitchen table even though he could still feel Nicholas’ eyes on him. The warmth spread lower, and Ben felt cornered as he tried to think of a decent distraction or possibly an escape.
He entertained the idea of leaving—of just walking right back to the front door, grabbing his coat, and striding out the front door—when Nicholas’ right hand gripped hold of Ben’s left shoulder and urged him to turn.
“Ben,” Nicholas said. “Look at me.”
Ben’s defenses tumbled when he met Nicholas’ gaze. The other man leaned in and pressed their lips together in a soft though firm slide that transformed the steady warmth into an inferno.
Ben exhaled the lungful of breath he had been holding unawares and let his eyes flutter shut. When he did not move away, Nicholas cupped Ben’s cheeks in his hands and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss with intent.
Nicholas tasted like beer; sweet and bitter all at once. Ben whimpered and pushed himself forward. He grabbed at Nicholas’ shirtfront as their mouths moved together in a slow, tentative dance.
Nicholas pressed Ben against the wall beside the refrigerator. His tongue swept across the opening of Ben’s lips and urged them open with a gentle flick. Ben did not relent wholly, and Nicholas’ tongue slid over Ben’s teeth and teased the tender gums underneath his top lip.
“Ben,” Nicholas said, threading the fingers of his right hand through Ben’s hair. “I wanted to do this for so long.”
“Since when?” Ben asked, pulling away.
“Since the day I knew you weren’t coming back.”
“Fuck,” Ben said and paced to the other end of the kitchen. He ran a hand through his hair where Nicholas had just gripped him through the end of the kiss. He looked back in time to see Nicholas lick his lower lip as if to savor the lingering taste of Ben’s mouth.
“This is crazy,” Ben said. “You don’t mean that.”
“There you go presuming what I feel again.” Nicholas smiled, but he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as if to keep himself from fidgeting.
Ben huffed out a laugh to fill the silence and drown out the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart.
“I called you,” Nicholas said. “I called your old cell number. Every day at first because I was sure you were ignoring me. I was so mad at you for leaving.”
“I didn’t take my phone,” Ben said, frowning.
“I figured that out after a while. I kept calling anyway. I left you voicemails. I was worried about you. I stopped for a few months. I was trying to sort everything out in my head. I couldn’t understand why I’d sometimes call just to hear your voice on the answering message.”
Ben furrowed his brow, but he could not speak. It felt like his heart had attempted to climb out of his chest but got stuck in his throat during its escape.
“I called you on our birthday,” Nicholas said. “We should have been having our first legal drink together at The Point. It wasn’t the same without you. I started calling you every Sunday after that. After The X-Files, usually. I’d talk about the episode. Sometimes I’d call a couple times because the service would cut me off. I called you until the inbox was full, and I couldn’t leave anymore messages.”
Ben sagged against the wall behind him.
“I should order that pizza,” Nicholas said, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right.
Dumbfounded by the idea that his old Nokia had sat filled with messages from the boy he had loved, Ben could only nod in response.
Nicholas offered a nervous smile and disappeared into the next room, presumably for the telephone, and left Ben—thankfully—alone to collect himself. Ben ran a hand through his hair again while he stared at the empty spot where Nicholas just stood.
“You don’t still eat pineapple on pizza, do you? Or are you good with just pepperoni?” Nicholas called out, stirring Ben from his thoughts.
He followed Nicholas’ voice to the living room. “I’m good with it,” he said. “I’m totally good with it.”
The grin that spread across Nicholas’ lips was like the waft of heat from a cup of coffee on a cold morning. He seemed lighter somehow, perhaps even relieved. “Good,” he said, his tone gentle. “Me too.”
He grabbed the landline from its cradle and punched a number on the keypad. The sheriff had takeaway on speed dial, apparently. He held the phone to his right ear to wait for it to connect, but the other end of the line emitted a sudden, keening screech so loud that Ben could hear it from across the room.
The phone clattered to the floor, and Nicholas clutched at the side of his head as if someone had discharged a revolver next to his ear. “Fuck!”
Ben strode forward, grabbed the phone, and turned it off to silence the high-pitched frequency that still rose from its speaker. “Are you okay??” he asked, turning to Nicholas, who nodded, though the motion caused him to wince. “Let me see.”
Nicholas withdrew his hand, and Ben tilted Nicholas’ head to the side slightly to catch the light. He leaned up on his toes and peered into the other man’s ear canal.
“Well, it’s not bleeding,” Ben said. “That’s good. Can you hear me okay?”
“It’s still ringing, but I can hear you,” Nicholas said.
“We should get you to the hospital.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m fine,” Nicholas said, rolling his eyes.
“It could be perforated. That won’t help you much on the job.”
“Ford’s on duty at the station,” Nicholas said with a sigh. “He started off as an EMT. I’ll head over, but there’s probably not much to be done.”
“I’ll come,” Ben said. “If you want.”
“This is not how I wanted this night to go.”
“You think I’m that easy?” Ben deadpanned.
“Of course not,” Nicholas replied, his eyes widening at the implication, but Ben winked to indicate he was teasing.
They donned their coats in the entry hall, and Ben followed Nicholas outside.
“Does it hurt?” Ben asked.
Nicholas gave a slight grumble as he locked the door and led the way to the Sheriff’s Department. Ben trailed behind as Nicholas entered the station and nodded in greeting to the uniformed officer at reception. The man was older and had a grumpy air about him, but he stood at full attention when he saw the sheriff.
“Evening, Sheriff,” he said. Alarm overtook his features as he took in Nicholas’ tensed shoulders and pained grimace. “You don’t look so good.”
“Think I blew out my eardrum,” Nicholas said, and his voice was louder than he probably realized. “Where’s Ford?”
The older officer furrowed his brow, which exacerbated the deep wrinkles on his sun-damaged forehead. Without a word, he disappeared down a corridor. He reemerged a moment later with Daniel, who strode forward with an easy confidence that Ben envied.
“What the hell happened to you?” Daniel asked when he stepped around the front desk to inspect the damage.
“Blew out my eardrum, I think. Went to make a call, got this loud noise on the other end, and now it’s ringing like a motherfucker.”
Daniel pulled a flashlight off his duty belt and shone the light into Nicholas’ ear. “A call on your landline?”
Nicholas nodded.
“What the hell makes a noise loud enough to perforate an eardrum over the phone?” Daniel asked, but he faltered when he noticed Ben for the first time. Daniel’s eyes narrowed as he gave Ben a doubtful once-over.
“He’s with me,” Nicholas said, his tone dismissive.
Daniel eased at the sheriff’s vouch for Ben’s presence. “Nice to see you, Ben.”
“You too, Daniel,” Ben said and tried a polite smile. The deputy offered a brief nod before he returned his attention to Nicholas.
“Well, Sheriff,” Daniel started, “it doesn’t look too bad, but I don’t really have the equipment to check it thoroughly. I can give you something for the pain. You should probably check in with the doc in the morning, though. Get her to give you some antibiotics to be on the safe side of a possible infection.”
“Great,” Nicholas sighed. “Give me a second, and I’ll join you.”
Daniel headed to a room in the back of the station.
“Listen, if you wanna go home, I don’t mind,” Nicholas said, facing Ben. “But this shouldn’t take long.”
“I’ll wait,” Ben said.
“Thank you,” Nicholas said, and the relief that crossed his features was proof that he probably would have minded very much if Ben left. “I’ll be back in a few.”
Ben lingered by the front desk and realized the officer at reception was observing him with a frown.
“Didn’t we have you in a holding cell earlier?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Ben flustered under the man’s stolid condescension. “Hi. Again.”
The officer resumed his paperwork with a disinterested roll of his eyes. Ben’s phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Kate’s name flashed on the caller ID.
“I’m just gonna go outside,” he said, but the officer ignored him. Okay.
Ben slipped out of the Sheriff’s Department and answered his phone on the third ring. “Katie?”
“Benji, you out yet?”
“Katie, you saved my ass,” Ben said. “Thank you.”
“I hope you mean that figuratively,” Kate said, scoffing. “Or did you have a cellmate? Was he big? Tell me everything.”
“You’re hilarious,” Ben said. “I was alone.”
“Did you pay the fine?”
“Yeah, all clear. Had a drink with Nic, everything’s good now.”
“That was fast. You couldn’t have made nice before he arrested you?”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s complicated.”
“I’m sure it is. Just try to behave and don’t tell anyone else Dad’s stupid story. You’ve gotta stop letting him dictate your life, Ben. You never see him, but you still let him rule over you.”
Ben stood in silent agreement with his sister.
“What, no snide remark?” Kate asked.
“Not when it’s true.”
“What the hell are you doing in West Virginia anyway?” she asked after a beat of silence. “I couldn’t believe it when Margaret told me. I was sure she got the message mixed up and Dad was in the drunk tank or something.”
“I dunno. I just finally thought it was a good idea.”
“Are you sick or something?” she asked. There was a lilt of humor to her voice, but her concern sounded genuine.
“I’m fine, Katie.”
“How is it being back home, then?”
“Weird at first,” Ben said and shoved one of his hands into his coat pocket to fight off the cold. “Then I got arrested.”
“Sounds about right,” Kate replied and laughed.
“You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”
“I’m not the one who spent the evening behind bars, Benji.”
“You haven’t lived, Katie,” Ben said, sounding wistful, and Kate giggled.
“Are you going to be there long? I’ll be in Boston in a few weeks to meet with a client.”
“I’m not sure, actually,” Ben said. “I guess I’ll have to let you know.”
“You do that. Maybe I can fly down to West Virginia if you’re still around those parts. See you and Dad.”
“Sounds like a reunion.”
“Yeah,” Kate laughed. “Like getting the band back together. Listen, I’ve gotta go. You stay out of trouble, little brother. Try not to find any more dead farmers.”
“I’ll certainly try,” Ben said. He saw a flash of Freemont’s bloated, blue face and stifled a groan as he forced the memory from his mind. “Thanks again.”
“That’s what I
’m here for, I guess.”
“Say hi to David for me. Bye, Katie.”
“Yeah,” Kate replied distractedly as if she had already turned back to whatever deposition she was working on despite it being almost ten o’clock and well past office hours. “Bye, Benji.”
Cold wind bit at the nape of Ben’s neck. He hung up and stared down at his phone for a moment. His thoughts wandered to the kiss in the kitchen, and he let out a deep breath. The lucid part of his brain, now less fazed by alcohol and lust, was a jumble of confused emotions.
Was this all wrong? Was he leaving himself too open? He had no idea how long he would be in town, after all. Or if he would have a reason to stay longer than even he had anticipated. Nicholas had changed dramatically since Ben had last seen him on the sidewalk in front of the Wisehart house so many years ago.
The door to the Sheriff’s Department swished as it opened, and Ben turned. Nicholas trotted down the front steps.
“Hey, van Gogh.”
Nicholas snickered as he drew closer. “I still have my earlobe, Wiseass. This is really not how I imagined this night to go.”
Ben’s chest thrummed with the same warmth from earlier as Nicholas uttered the nickname he had once used on an almost-daily basis when they were in high school. “Watch it, Boy Scout. Tell me, did whatever plan you had for tonight always involve you arresting me beforehand?”
“Hey, I have a duty to uphold the law,” Nicholas said, but his grin betrayed the serious air he attempted to affect.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you home, Sheriff.”
Nicholas seemed to consider Ben as they rounded the corner onto to Dunmore. “You should stay,” he said. “At my place. Tonight.”
Ben shifted under the weight of the offer. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“No? Well, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be on my feet for much longer. Ford gave me something light for the pain. And with the beer—I just,” Nicholas faltered for his words. “It would be nice if you stayed. We still need to order that pizza, and I could make you breakfast in the morning. For the trouble.”
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