13. Perry

"Well, that's the last of it."

Heaving the soaked piece of carpet into the garbage bin, I wipe my brow and turn to Leaf. He tosses over the last chunk of drywall with a grunt.

"Thank god. Now that the clean-up crew is here, it should go a lot faster. Hallelujah for insurance."

Leaf is casual and I know he knows I fucked up, but he'll never make me feel guilty about it. Still doesn't mean I don't feel guilty.

"I said I'd cover what you're out of pocket. I know it's my fault."

He shakes his head. "No. It's mine too. I let Sasha win and pushed you to finish the shower when we should have investigated that leak further. We needed more time and we should have told him no."

I chuckle at my brother's straight face.

"You can never tell him no, so don't even go there."

"True." He laughs and motions towards the lodge. "Want to come up for a beer? Sasha said he'd be home later. Roman is on some kind of streak, he said?"

"Beer would be great." We traipse through the kitchen, which is now empty and quiet. The only good thing about the leaking pipe is that it's still the lodge's down season. It was full for the maple festival as a trial, but bookings won't start up again until mid-May. He occasionally gets a one-off call to book and he'll take it, but the guests have no food services if they stay.

"How's it going with the house guest, anyway?"

Leaf leads us into his place, and we leave our boots at the door. He passes me a beer from the fridge and we both collapse onto the sofa with a sigh.

"Well…it's been…different."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I'd like to say good, but I'm not sure." I run my finger around the edge of the can before finally just saying it. "Uh, I haven't told you, but the nightmares started again a few weeks ago. I haven't been sleeping very well."

"I thought something was off with you. How come you never said anything? You know that just because Sasha is here doesn't mean I'm not here for you."

"I know, but they usually go away on their own. I discovered a rather, uh, unconventional way to deal with them last time. So I've been trying it again."

"Okay…"

"I can't believe I'm telling you this. But the last time this happened, and the exercise stopped working, I found something else by accident that put me to sleep. Something I maybe enjoy…a lot."

Leaf still stares blankly at me, and I just blurt it out.

"I jack off, Leaf. It's like as soon as I come someone shoves a sleeping pill down my throat and I fall asleep in minutes. It doesn't always last long, but at least it's sleep. That's why I wasn't here on time for the check-in before the festival. I actually slept that morning after I ah… that."

Leaf clears his throat before taking a drink.

"Well, I don't think that's uncommon, Perry. Lots of people do it. Hell, I fall asleep sometimes before I even pull out." He snorts and I shudder.

"Please don't share that much again. Sasha is my friend and I can't have a visual of him shagging my brother."

Leaf just shrugs like he does these days. It's already in the past.

"Fine. But what's this have to do with Roman at your place?"

The heat travels up my chest and neck and I look away from my brother. My cheeks must be fire engine red because it feels like I"m bathing in hot coals.

"Oh my god, bro. Are you two screwing?"

"What? No! And who even says that word anymore?"

He shrugs and sips his beer. "So he's cramping your style with the right hand or what?"

"Leaf…do not repeat this. Especially to Sasha."

"Of course."

"He caught me." Puffing out a breath, I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. "I passed out on the couch and still had the porn playing. Porn with men in corsets, Leaf. And my spunk-filled tissues next to me."

"Dude…" Leaf leans forward. "You're serious? What did he say?"

"Well, that's the odd thing. I moaned in my sleep and saw him there watching the screen, so I closed my eyes and hoped he'd go away. Which he did when I made more noise and he thought I was waking up. Neither of us said anything. We had a nice breakfast about an hour after that, like nothing happened."

He raises a finger with a quirked eyebrow.

"Can we back up to the corset thing?"

Groaning, I drop my head. "What about it?"

"Perry…"

I raise my head to meet my brother's gaze.

"Do you want something to happen? You two didn't get along very well and now he's in your house. He saw you with your dick in your hand whacking to men like him. That's hella awkward. Should we try to find him an apartment or a room for rent?"

"No!" With a sigh, I realize I sort of want him to stay. "He's comfortable sleeping there. He told me that. Since his parents died, he has some anxiety and he can't sleep in a place without other people."

"The lodge would be empty most of the time. Sasha told me he had some sleep issues, but I thought the lodge guests would be enough. Or the fact he didn't have to leave the building to find us." He slides his fingers up the beer can. "Maybe the plumbing was a blessing in disguise then."

We sit in silence as I let that fact settle. Roman still pushes all my damn buttons, and he's not said anything about what he saw. Yet he still sleeps well under my roof with me in the house. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like that. It brings me comfort to know I help when he told me about his anxiety. It doesn't bring me sleep, but it makes me feel like I'm redeemed in a way.

For the one I couldn't rescue.

"Anyway, other than that, it's been okay. And Sasha said the walk-out basement is the perfect space. He loves the lighting for photos and Roman mentioned he'd be open to a rental agreement if I want." I shake my head. "Which is absurd. How could my walk-out basement be the perfect place for designing lacy men's underwear and photographing them?"

"I'm willing to bet there's a lineup of men who wished they were in your shoes right now." He throws his arm across the back of the couch. "So…corsets, huh? Gotta say I didn't see that coming."

We both laugh and the mood lightens.

"Nope. Me neither, but I guess I have a type. That type is a mouthy, blond, corset-wearing lingerie designer who both infuriates and excites me in equal measure. So if you have any brotherly tips on dealing with that, now would be a good time to share."

He whistles long and low and reaches for his phone when it chimes.

"Sasha is on his way home. Do you want to stay for supper?"

"No, it's okay. I should get home anyway. I still have laundry to catch up on and a million other things I've been avoiding. Call me when you're ready to redo the suite. This time no rushing."

Walking to the kitchen, I leave my can on the counter and slip into my boots. "Ted will come before we finish to inspect if I ask him."

"We'll see how it goes. I trust you, Perry. We both made a mistake, is all." He pauses before I leave. "I don't have much advice for you about whatever this is you feel for Roman, but I know you're a good man. Don't forget that."

"Thanks, Leaf. I appreciate that."

We do the back-slapping bro hug thing before I leave and it always lifts me when Leaf supports me. Not that I need constant coddling, but he's my big brother. I've admired him since I was old enough to say his name.

The air outside is unseasonably warm for March and I consider visiting Emerald Lake, but instead I end up driving home with an odd feeling of anticipation. Of what I don't know, but like him or not, having Roman at my house isn't as awful as I thought it would be. Minus the being caught watching porn bit, which maybe we should talk about? That's what roommates do, isn't it?

God, are we roommates? I don't even know, but it seems like we should have a conversation about how long he wants to stay here, if nothing else.

After parking in the driveway, instead of heading to the front door, I take the path to the back of the house where the back yard slopes towards the river. You'd think after being a police rescue and recovery diver for ten years that I'd want to get away from the water. But even with all the lives water took away…I love the peace it can bring me.

The spring thaw is well on its way, and most of the ice has finished floating downstream. Soon, the ducks and geese will randomly show up on my lawn and, while I hate how they make a mess of the place, I love watching them raise their babies.

Lights blaze inside the house, and I turn to gaze at my little slice of paradise. My home sits on the hill overlooking the river. The walkout basement is a wall of cathedral windows. I've never installed shades of any kind since nobody can ever peep at me here. It's woods and a river. It's private unless you mind the odd duck or goose sometimes looking through the window.

And right now I've never been so happy to not have window coverings.

Inside, Roman moves around his half of the space. I can't tell what he's doing, but his silhouette is unmistakable and I lick my lips, watching the corset-clad man move confidently around my home. And that feeling I couldn't put my finger on before flares up again.

My skin feels tight and rather than going back around and entering the front door, I slide the patio door open and step inside. Loud classical music greets me as Roman, with his back to me, pins fabric on a mannequin. My lips curl into a warm smile. He works from my home, but still dresses for a high-powered business meeting. A navy blue corset with a white shirt and the sleeves rolled up, paired with a pair of black dress pants. But his feet are bare. Another juxtaposed image.

He hums under his breath and when I glance around, it's odd seeing my gym equipment on one side of the enormous area with his perfectly set up sewing area on the other.

Roman pauses, one hand in the air as he conducts the symphony and he's a picture of content. There's no uptight, mouthy man. No shoulders tight with defence. He's at home and has zero guards up. This is the real Roman. He's beautiful.

He finally turns and freezes when he sees me. His blue eyes turn hard, clouding in an instant.

"Do you always make it a habit to sneak up on people?"

"I wasn't sneaking. It's my house. You have the music up fairly loud."

He steps over to his iPad and smashes the button, filling the room with silence.

"Is there something you need? I'm in the middle of a design here and don't want to be interrupted."

"I was going to ask you if you've eaten today? But if I'm just an inconvenience to you, I'll let you starve."

My light mood dissolves with the harsh exchange.

Turning, I stalk to my laundry room off the gym, intent on stripping out of my clothes from the day instead of doing it upstairs, but I remember I'm not here alone anymore. After a nanosecond, I say fuck it and strip down to my underwear, leaving the pile of clothes on the floor before stalking back out to take the stairs to the main floor.

"You're just leaving your clothes in a pile like that?"

"Yep."

I don't care. It's my house. I'm not changing my entire routine to fit his. He already took over my basement. Would it kill the guy to show some manners for once?

Once in my ensuite I strip out of my boxers and step into the shower. I scrub at my skin like it offends me while inside the simmer turns to a low boil. Why does he turn everything in to a fight? I don't even bother to dry completely. Instead, I dab myself off and yank on a pair of lounge pants, tossing my towel on the floor.

I'm intent on giving him a piece of my mind. Instead, he's in the kitchen heating something in the microwave.

"What the hell are you making? It smells like milk left out in the sun for a week."

"Mac and cheese."

"I'm too vile to join for dinner? Is that it?"

He cocks his hip and rests a hand there. That shouldn't be sexy.

"You didn't invite me to dinner."

"Does everything need to be spelled out to the letter with you? I asked if you wanted to have dinner with me."

"No, you did not. You barked at me like a rabid dog that the music was loud and if I'd eaten. You most certainly didn't invite me to dinner."

"Roman. Jesus Christ. You're a guest in my home. I'm going to make sure you're fed. Have you not been comfortable here?" Throwing my arms in the air, I heave out a breath. "What have I done to offend you this time?"

He nods and presses his lips together.

"Offend me? Where do I start? Since you asked and I apparently have no manners, here goes. You leave your laundry all over the place when you could either wash it, put it away or, at the very least, contain it in a hamper. You stripped in front of me while I was trying to work!" He swallows hard, but keeps going. "And you cook practically naked. It's not right."

His eyes blaze as he steps forward and pokes me in the chest with a strong finger.

"You got off to porn when I was sleeping down the hall and you weren't even ashamed to do it. And don't even get me started on the filth of your ensuite bathroom."

"What were you doing in my bathroom? You have your own."

"Looking for more toilet paper. I didn't…I wasn't snooping, but honestly Perry, what is your problem with cleanliness? Towels piled all over, and when's the last time you bothered to clean the sink?"

The microwave beeps and both of us stare each other down. His throat bobs as he swallows, and I let all his comments slide—except the one thing I can't stop thinking about.

"I was awake, you know. I know you saw me."

He swallows again, but never breaks eye contact.

"Were you going to keep that from me forever?"

"Which part? The part that when I can't sleep I sometimes jack off on my sofa to porn so I can finally get some rest? Or the part that I seem to enjoy watching men in corsets that look an awful lot like you?"

Roman's nostrils flare, and he straightens his shoulders. I can't believe I put that out there like that and I can't believe I'm holding my breath waiting for his answer.

"Are you trying to make me uncomfortable on purpose?" His voice wavers and I refuse to back down.

"No. But you didn't answer the question."

"The second part, then." He whispers. "I thought people were here, and I came out and you…you were…" He puffs a breath. "You made me confused."

I wasn't expecting that and soften my voice.

"What? How?"

"Because you were under my skin since I met you and then I saw you mostly naked and I thought it was such a pity that you had to watch poor acting with someone who only looks like me when the real deal was down the hall. I should still dislike you, but you made me wonder if I was wrong."

A shift in the air. There's a sharp spark, like an electrical storm, and my entire body feels lit up.

"About what?"

Roman inhales and licks his lips.

"About if you're someone I could take a chance with. How your lips would feel on mine. How you'd taste."

My chest feels heavy as I struggle to breathe. Is he yanking my chain?

"Don't you dare tease me by saying shit like that."

He shakes his head.

"I'm not. I really am confused. Every damn hour of every damn day, I swing between wanting to kiss you and wanting to slap you."

"And where are you right now on that scale?"

His lips turn up in a small smile.

"Well, my hands are in my pockets and you're still talking, so…pick up the clues, Perry."

Taking a step forward, I back him into the kitchen counter and bend closer. His hands grip my hips.

"I'm not fucking Sherlock. I don't do clues, Roman."

"Jesus Christ, you're annoying. Kiss me. I want to know if I'm right."

My lips brush over his. "You sure about this?"

"No, but I want to do it, anyway."

His hands reach up and pull my head the rest of the way to his lips. His fingers curl into my hair and his nails scratch across my scalp. And there's no more time to hesitate.

Roman's lips are soft and his tongue meets mine. The taste of something fruity lingers, maybe from the gum he chews, but it's forgotten as soon as it's discovered because my brain is officially offline.

Roman presses against me and snakes a foot around my leg, pulling me closer. Pushing back, I pin him against the counter and a small gasp escapes from his lips. His hands move to my ass and I've torn myself from his lips. Desperate to lay them on his skin. He tilts his head and I kiss down his neck, biting and sucking along his collarbone. His urgent moans and fingers gripping my ass urge me on. Our lips meet again and he's putty, letting me shape his body to me and his mouth to mine.

He's ambrosia and I can't stop.

Until his hands press against my chest, shoving me away.

Stepping back, panting and brow furrowed, Roman gazes back. His lips are puffy and parted, pale skin flushed a strawberry pink. But his eyes aren't wild and lust-filled. There's no kindness there and my stomach plummets.

"I was right," he rasps.

"About?"

"How you would taste."

His voice cracks with a pain I don't understand.

"This sounds like an answer I don't want to hear."

He wraps his arms around his middle and shakes his head.

"Probably not."

Giving him further space, I step away before turning and leaving him in my kitchen.