Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Ambrose

L iam got a slightly anxious, haunted expression on his face the moment it was over. Ambrose scraped up enough energy to get out of bed and toss him a towel for clean up, then went and grabbed the bag of sandwiches from the fridge. He came back and climbed onto the bed beside Liam, tugging the doona up to cover them both. Then he grabbed the TV remote control and waved it in Liam's face. "Movie marathon?"

Liam showed him a tentative smile. "Okay."

Ambrose liked Liam too much to spook him now. "You know what the best thing about being my own boss is?"

"What?" Liam asked curiously, unwrapping a sandwich.

"I get to change the rules if I want," Ambrose said. "Remember that time I said no handies or gobbies? I changed my mind."

"Well, it wasn't technically a handy," Liam said. His gaze dropped to Ambrose's mouth. "And it definitely wasn't a gobby."

"True," Ambrose agreed. "It was dirty grinding, if anything, with a happy ending thrown in. Totally allowed. "

Liam's mouth quirked. "If you say so."

Ambrose's heart skipped a beat. He'd wondered briefly if Liam wanted this to be more, but maybe it was a case of Liam just having an itch to scratch, a one and done kind of thing. He waited for Liam to say something, anything, to indicate he was interested in a repeat, but the silence was deafening.

Ambrose curled in on himself. He'd hoped they were on the same page, but it seemed that wasn't the case after all. And now he was left to deal with the fact that some time in the past couple of days he'd started to crush on Liam Connelly. Worse, he'd started to get invested in him. And now Liam didn't feel the same.

"Have we messed things up?" he asked. "I mean, this"—he waved a hand between them—"wasn't meant to happen."

Liam chewed his lip and stared at the TV screen for a moment. Then he dropped his gaze to his lap. "Maybe we could just chalk it up to, um, the heat of the moment, if you want?"

Ambrose's chest clenched, but he hadn't run up a HECS debt studying drama without learning at least basic acting skills, so he forced a smile onto his face and said, "Sure thing. What happens in the cabin stays in the cabin, right?"

"Right," Liam said. But he didn't look as relieved as Ambrose had thought he would, and Ambrose wondered what he was missing. Liam was the quiet sort, he suddenly remembered. Not the sort to push. Maybe he was interested but didn't know how to ask. So just maybe, Ambrose was going to have to be the one to offer.

"Listen," Ambrose said, "I know you paid for a bad boyfriend, and nothing that happens here has to change that. I'm not gonna come over all touchy feely in front of your parents just because we both got off together, okay?"

Liam's mouth pushed into a thin line, and he nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"But," Ambrose said, and didn't miss the way Liam's expression shifted from being closed off into something that was almost hopeful, which made him slightly more confident that he was reading this right. His stomach clenched with nerves, regardless. "But if you wanted to hang out again once we're back in Sydney, that would be cool too."

Liam turned his head to gaze at him, his brown eyes wide. "Okay," Liam said. "I wouldn't mind, once we're back in Sydney, hanging out with you again. Like this."

"Cool," Ambrose said. He wasn't sure where they stood, exactly, but maybe Liam didn't know either, and maybe that was okay. It seemed like something they could try to figure out together, once this weekend was over with.

Ambrose fell asleep halfway through the movie and awoke some time later in the darkness surrounded by sandwich wrappings and crumbs. At first he wasn't sure what had woken him, then he became aware that Liam, lying on his side next to him, was watching him in the gloom.

Outside, the rain was still coming down.

"Hey," Ambrose said softly.

"Hey," Liam whispered back.

"Come here," Ambrose said. Liam shifted closer, and Ambrose threaded their fingers together. "This is nice."

It was dark and cool, and the rain on the roof made him want to sleep for days. And if he could sleep snuggled up with Liam, that would be even better. He rested their clasped hands on the pillow between their faces.

"I don't do this," he said. "I've been on hundreds of fake dates in the past year, and never a real one. My sister says I'm messed up. She says Mum messed us both up in different ways. She's probably right. But I don't feel messed up."

Liam didn't say anything, but he didn't look away either.

"Isadora says I have trust issues," Ambrose said, "and I don't let anyone close. She's an accountant, by the way, not a therapist, but she reads a lot of self-help books. She diagnosed Mum with narcissism after watching one episode of Doctor Oz. So, you know, she's not qualified at all, but maybe she's not totally wrong either."

Liam's brow creased. "Is there an official diagnosis?"

"There are a few," Ambrose said. "Borderline personality disorder seems to be the favourite. But Mum also did way too much coke back in the day, and she drinks too much these days, so who knows? She doesn't think there's anything wrong with her. It's everyone else who's the problem."

"Shit," Liam said quietly, and his hand squeezed Ambrose's.

"I love my mum," Ambrose said. "She's not perfect or anything, but I love her. But yeah, maybe I have a bunch of issues that come from her. Like, I never measure up, you know?" He smiled, but it was a bitter smile. "She, like, lives in a dressing gown for a week straight without showering, and her agent hasn't called her in a decade, but I'm the one who never measures up to her brilliant fucking career."

"I think you measure up," Liam said quietly.

"Sometimes I don't even know if I even love acting still, or if I'm just trying to prove something to Mum. Just trying to make her proud, or something, when half the time she doesn't even know what day it is."

"How does she manage, if she's like that?"

Ambrose gave a half-shrug. "Me. I pay a neighbour to take her shopping, and I go see her when I can, and when she goes off the rails for the umpteenth time, I visit her in hospital and pretend it's all fine."

"Does your sister help out?"

"Nah, she's in Brisbane. She did the smart thing and went to uni there, and just never came home again." He exhaled heavily. "I don't mean to make it sound like she does nothing. She sends parcels pretty often, clothes and gifts and stuff for Mum, and we talk a lot, but she doesn't visit much. She says she can't stand it. I sometimes wish I had the guts to walk away too, but it's my mum , you know?"

He pulled their hands apart and rolled over, away from Liam's pitying gaze. He hadn't meant to lay himself bare like that, but he hadn't had anyone he felt like he could talk to about this stuff in too long, and once he'd started it was hard to stop. He silently hoped that Liam would know enough to leave it alone, and Liam must have picked up on it, because he said, "It could be worse. She could try and feed you brie and Vegemite croissants and threaten to set you up with rat-faced Richard that you last saw when you were nine."

Ambrose laughed weakly, grateful for Liam's attempt at a joke. "Yeah. I guess I got lucky on that score at least."

Liam put a hand on Ambrose's hip. "It sounds rough. I'm sorry you have to deal with all that."

"It's not as bad as some people have it."

"Yeah, probably not," Liam said, and tightened his grip on Ambrose's hip briefly. "But it's not a competition."

"You're nice," Ambrose said around a yawn. "And cute. Why are you single again?" Even as he asked, a tendril of a memory tinged with wine tickled at the back of his mind. "Wait—you told me about this. There was a guy, right? And he…"

"Cheated, yeah." Liam sighed. "And I never told Mum and Dad, and they don't understand why we broke up, and now they're on my case."

"Don't worry. I'll break your heart sufficiently to keep them at bay," Ambrose said, and tried to ignore the way even the idea of letting Liam go left a bad taste in his mouth. It's fine , he reminded himself. The breakup was as fake as the relationship. And they were going to catch up sometimes back in Sydney. Liam had agreed. So that was something, right?

Liam snuggled up closer behind him and let out a yawn of his own, his hand never straying from Ambrose's hip. He pulled the blankets up and mumbled, "Okay, sleep time."

He was asleep minutes later, breathing soft puffs of air against the nape of Ambrose's neck, and if Ambrose pulled Liam's arm across his body so he could cuddle in closer, so what? He was sharing a bed with a hot guy. He might as well make the most of it.

They were woken by a knock at the door. Ambrose blinked and raised his head from where it had somehow ended up pressed against Liam's chest. Ambrose had apparently been possessed by the spirit of an octopus sometime in the night, because he'd also thrown an arm and a leg over the top of him. Liam didn't seem to have a problem with it—but then again, Liam was still dead to the world.

Ambrose shook his shoulder. "Hey. Someone's here. I think it's your dad."

Liam's eyes flew open, and he stared at Ambrose in silent confusion. He had bed hair and was sleep-rumpled and he was utterly fucking adorable. Ambrose kind of wanted to kiss him, but he didn't, because while they'd sure as hell blurred those lines last night, blurred—jizzed all over them—whatever, Ambrose was painfully aware that rules often changed in the cold light of day.

There was another knock, and Will called, "Boys? Are you awake?"

"We're trapped!" Ambrose called. "The key snapped off and now we're locked in!"

There was the sound of the door handle rattling, followed by muttered cursing. "Let me grab my tools, and we'll have the door open in a jiffy, okay?"

Liam's eyes grew wide, the way people's did in a movie when they'd just remembered something important. "Shit," he breathed. "We need pants before he gets back."

Oh, right. They were still naked. Ambrose toyed briefly with the concept of staying naked—it would certainly get him in the bad books—but looking at the way Liam was scrambling desperately for his bag and dragging out underwear, he dismissed the idea. He liked Liam, and he didn't want him to melt into a puddle of embarrassment if it turned out it wasn't only his dad on the other side of that door.

By the time Ambrose had used the bathroom and brushed his teeth, Liam was dressed, and Will was obviously back, if the sound of drilling and the mumbled "Come on, you bastard thing," was anything to go by.

"He said he tried to jimmy it open, but that didn't work so now his best bet is probably to drill out the entire mechanism," Liam said, and Ambrose nodded as if he had any kind of clue how locks worked. Whatever Will was doing, Ambrose should probably put his pants on.

He wiggled into his underwear and skinny jeans and was just shrugging his shirt over his head when there was more drilling, a triumphant "Ha!" and a metallic clunk as the handle inside dropped to the ground, leaving a hole where it used to be. There was another thunk, and the door swung open to reveal Will standing there, a cordless drill in his hand, looking all too pleased with his handiwork.

"Well, the lock's fucked, and the door won't shut at all now," he said, holding up a handful of parts that Ambrose didn't even attempt to identify. "We'll have to fit a whole new one. Bloody Dad and his bargains. I told him the locks were dicky. You boys are probably going to want to move up to the main house." He tucked the drill into his tool belt. "I guess at least it was you two who got stuck in here, and not paying guests. Why didn't you call us?"

"His plug doesn't fit my socket," Ambrose said blithely. "Does this mean I can't leave a terrible review on TripAdvisor?"

Will gave him a look like he wasn't quite sure if he was kidding or not. "Well, I'd certainly appreciate it if you didn't."

"He's kidding," Liam said. "Right, Ambrose?"

"Right," Ambrose agreed, and rolled his eyes at Liam when Will wasn't looking. Way to sink a perfectly good arsehole moment.

"Yeah," Liam said. "We should probably move to the house if we can't secure the place. I'd hate for Ambrose to be attacked by an army of skinks seeking their revenge."

Ambrose grinned, and shoved last night's discarded clothes into his bag, peeling his still-damp boxer briefs off the floor with a slight wince. "We're taking the rest of the sex basket stuff, right? Because we haven't used it all yet." He waggled the vibrator at Liam. "Got any batteries at the house? These are normally a double-A."

It was Liam's turn to wince, and the tips of his ears turned a delightful shade of scarlet. Will pretended to be very interested in the door.

It only took a few minutes to get their stuff together, then they set off towards the house. Ambrose wore his backpack and hugged the sex basket to his chest, and Liam held an umbrella over both of them.

"This rain is something, right?" Ambrose asked.

"Middle Creek will probably go over some time today," Will said, as though that meant anything to Ambrose, but Ambrose nodded knowledgeably in any case.

Despite the crap weather and getting evicted from the honeymoon cabin, he was feeling pretty good this morning. This thing with Liam was new, and it gave him butterflies every time he looked at the guy, but Ambrose liked that. He imagined himself back in Sydney, curled up with Liam on his couch with his cat, watching cheesy old movies and eating cheap, greasy pizza. Then removing the cat from the equation and having filthy drag-down sex, because sometimes a guy wanted to cuddle, and sometimes he wanted to get dirty as hell, and both of those things were valid.

"I think Neve was going to take Marcus to see the Hunter Valley Gardens this arvo," Will continued, "but that's probably off now, I'd imagine."

"The Gardens?" Ambrose asked, looking at Liam. "Do I want to see the Gardens too?"

Liam wrinkled his nose. "Not in this weather. And maybe not in any weather. It's… Do you like botanical gardens and parks?"

"Um, probably more in theory than practice," Ambrose admitted.

"Yeah," Liam said. "Same."

They shared a quick smile.

"Although I am a fan of certain herbs," Ambrose said with a wink. Will's eyebrows raised, and his mouth tightened, and Ambrose took it as a win.

"We could go yabbying down at the dam?" Liam suggested. "Dad keeps it stocked, and we're already wet. It'll be fun."

Ambrose frowned. "What's yabbying when it's at home?"

Liam grinned. "You throw a line in with a bit of meat on it, and when the yabbies grab on, you fish them out with a net. You catch a bucketful, and then Mum drags out the big pot, and we have a boil-up."

Ambrose screwed up his face. "Pass."

"I thought you liked seafood?" Liam teased with a wink, and Ambrose decided he liked this new, playful Liam.

"Only when it's served to me on a plate. Not when I have to get dirty and work for it."

"City boy. So, that's a no to fishing in the dam and catching your own lunch, then?"

"A definite no," Ambrose agreed, even though he thought it sounded like it might be fun, and he'd definitely enjoy watching Liam be all wet and wild and Crocodile Dundee—or was that Yabby Dundee? Either way, while he might enjoy it, Asshole Ambrose definitely wouldn't lower himself to standing around in the pissing rain with a bit of meat on a string, so that meant it was a no-go.

They trudged up the porch steps and into the house, and Ambrose made a point of leaving his wet shoes on even when Will and Liam stopped to take theirs off. He didn't miss the look Fi gave his soaked sneakers, but she didn't mention it at first, instead wrapping Liam in a hug, squeezing him tightly as if he'd been missing for six months instead of vaguely inconvenienced overnight. Ambrose was slightly envious, although he wasn't sure if he was envious of Liam for having a mum who hugged him, or of Fi for getting to put her hands on Liam.

She finally let go and put her hands on her hips. "Now, what on earth happened? I know you had enough sandwiches to get you through dinner, but when you missed breakfast as well, I sent your dad down to check on you."

"It was those bloody doors," Will said. "I told Dad the locks were buggered."

"Yeah. Long story short, broken key, flat phones," Liam said.

"I have to replace the whole mechanism," Will said, "so I thought the boys might as well stay in Liam's old room."

"Do you guys have an Android charger? My phone's dead as a turd," Ambrose said, wiggling it around in his hand as if to show just how dead it was.

"There's one in the kitchen. I'll plug it in for you," Will offered, and Ambrose squelched across the floor to hand it over.

"Ambrose," Fi said, obviously unable to help herself, "pop your wet shoes outside, there's a good lad?"

Ambrose looked down like he hadn't realised he was wearing soaking wet shoes inside. "Oh, right." He squelched across the room, leaving a trail of muddy footprints on the hardwood. He didn't apologise, and he didn't offer to wipe them up, even though his own mother would have skinned him alive for a stunt like that.

Instead, he kicked the shoes off into a heap and peeled off his socks as well, piling them on top. He dumped his backpack and the gift basket on the kitchen table and asked, "So, any chance of breakfast? Worked up an appetite last night." He followed it up with finger guns.

Liam's ears went that delightful shade of red again.

Fi's eyes widened. "I'm sure you want to put your bags in Liam's room first," she said.

"Oh, good idea," Ambrose said. He slapped Liam on the arse and made a point of grabbing the sex basket and leaving Liam to carry his own bag as well as Ambrose's. "And maybe we can work up even more of an appetite in the meantime."

"Uh, yeah," Liam said, very obviously not making eye contact with his parents. "I'll show you where my room is."

"Do you still have your Justin Bieber poster? I bet you had a Bieber poster when you were a tiny gay," Ambrose said. " I had a Bieber poster."

"I don't have a Bieber poster," Liam said.

"We might have to take it down, though," Ambrose continued, ignoring him. "I really don't think I can do the nasty with the Beebs watching."

Liam picked up both bags and said, "Come on."

Ambrose waved at Will and Fi and followed Liam through the house. The entire house was gorgeous, not just the few rooms he'd already seen. It was clearly old, but everything shone and gleamed like the foyer of a fancy hotel. Ambrose didn't have much experience with fancy hotels, and the foyer was usually as far as he'd ever made it. He couldn't speak to the quality of the rooms in fancy hotels, but he imagined they were something like Liam's bedroom—large, airy and showroom worthy. That didn't mean sterile though, at least in Liam's case. This room had clearly been lived in once upon a time, even though it had been by a boy who was obviously a lot more organised than Ambrose had ever been. The books on the shelf—way too many on agriculture, honestly—had obviously been read, but they were also lined up in alphabetical order. There was a poster on the wall—not Bieber—but it was framed, like the Connellys didn't know what Blu Tack was. Ambrose looked at it and laughed.

" The Mighty Boosh ? Really?"

Liam flushed. "Why not?"

"You are a man whose still waters run deep, aren't you, Liam Connelly?" Ambrose asked approvingly. "I also had a massive crush on Noel Fielding. I still do. In fact, if he called me now, I'd have to leave here immediately and go and meet him."

"You'd have to walk. You got a ride here," Liam pointed out with a grin.

"Oh, I got a ride all right," Ambrose said, just to see Liam blush again. "And if I'm lucky, I'll get another one tonight."

Liam threw a book at him, and Ambrose dodged it, laughing.

"Where shall I put the sex toys?" he asked. "Do you have somewhere in particular you keep those?"

Liam looked vaguely scandalised, like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or throw something else. "Yes, I do, actually. I keep them in Sydney , where there's zero chance of Mum finding them."

"Oh," Ambrose said, and winked. "Maybe you'll show me them some day."

"Maybe I will," Liam said, and ducked his head to hide his shy smile.