“What’s in the bags?” Jason asked, reaching for Abe’s hands.
“Groceries.” Abe handed half the bags over. “I’d already gone shopping before Cindy came home, so I brought everything here. Now we’re set for the weekend.” He held his breath and braced himself for Jason’s reaction. They had discussed an evening watching the college basketball tournament, not a weekend holed up together in Jason’s townhouse.
Looking from the bags to Abe, Jason furrowed his brow, his shoulders tense and his lips stretched into thin lines.
“Jase, if I overstepped, I’m sorry,” Abe said, trying to sound nonchalant despite his disappointment. He had never felt as safe and calm as he did going to bed with Jason’s bulk wrapped around him, and he didn’t want that aspect of their weekend plans to change. Patience, he reminded himself. “I can put most of this back in the car right now and store the chicken, eggs, milk, and cheese in your fridge until I leave tonight.”
“You’re not leaving tonight.” Jason turned on his heel and walked into the townhouse.
Not sure what else to do, Abe followed.
“I barely got to see you this week, and I’ve been looking forward to spending the weekend with you,” Jason said. They reached the kitchen, and Jason dropped the bags on the counter. The jars inside rattled from the force of impact. “There’s no difference between being together here and being together at your apartment.” He yanked the refrigerator door open. “Even if your roommate wasn’t there, it’d make more sense for us to stay here because your TV is practically an antique and I have a sixty-five-inch LED.” He grabbed one of the bags and put it into his nearly empty refrigerator. “Plus, your bed is a queen-size and mine’s a king, so my legs don’t hang over the edge.”
Assuming Jason was talking to himself, Abe remained silent and waited for him to work through whatever was bothering him.
“The housekeeper comes on Thursdays, so my sheets are clean.” Jason picked up the other bag he had set down and wedged it next to the first one. “I have plenty of pillows.”
Curling his lips over his teeth, Abe tried not to laugh.
“Are there any more bags?” Jason asked as he darted his gaze around the room.
“Just these.” Abe held up his hands.
“I’ll take them,” Jason said, reaching out for the bags.
“Jase?” Abe said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think the fridge is the best place for spaghetti, pasta sauce, canned artichokes, bananas, pita chips….” Abe took a breath. “Should I keep going with the grocery list?”
“No.” Jason shook his head. “I think you made your point.” He gave Abe a tight, forced smile. “Show me what you got for us, and we can put everything away in the right places.” He turned back to the refrigerator, took out the two bags he’d put in, and set them on the counter.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Abe asked quietly as he walked over to Jason and put his own bags down.
He expected Jason to brush off the question or pretend he had no idea what Abe meant, and at first, it seemed that was exactly what he planned to do, because he squared his shoulders, pursed his lips, and glanced away.
Staying quiet, Abe stood next to Jason, leaned against him, tipped his head to the side, and rested it against Jason’s shoulder.
After a few seconds, Jason softened his posture. “I’ve never brought a man into my home,” he said as he rubbed his palms over his eyes. “Not before I got married.” He turned around and rested his back against the counter. “Not in the five years since my divorce.” He looked across the room instead of at Abe and quietly said, “Not when I was married.”
“Why?”
Jason shrugged, turned back to the counter, and started emptying the bags.
One end of Jason’s kitchen curved in a peninsula. Three stools were tucked underneath it. Wanting to give Jason space, Abe walked over, pulled a stool out, and sat down.
Jason was halfway done emptying the second bag when he spoke. “Home is for family.”
There was a world of meaning behind the deceptively simple comment, but having a conversation about it was like navigating a minefield. Rather than walking into a war zone, Abe decided to cheer Jason up the old-fashioned way. He kicked off his flip-flops, stood up, and pushed his jeans and briefs to the floor.
Apparently having heard the clothes hit the ground, Jason turned around. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Abe stepped to the side and moved past the counter and cabinets blocking Jason’s view of his lower half. “You seem, uh, down. I thought this might cheer you up.”
After snapping his gaze to Abe’s groin, Jason looked back up and smiled affectionately. “You’re not all that up yourself,” he pointed out, his tone amused.
“Take off your pants and I’ll get there.”