And he had to admit, Cash was trying.
He’d given Glen his space to eat and then proposed the walk so they’d both get some sleep that night. Not once had he made an innuendo or taken advantage of the fact that they were two men who had been intimate, still closed up in a small space.
He’d practically run down the stairs to the beach to avoid being in the same room for any longer than necessary.
Maybe he didn’t want Glen anymore.
The thought hit Glen hard in the chest, and he slowed his pace by the water, ostensibly to take off his shoes, but mostly to try to get his head around the fact that maybe Cash was just using him to get his friend back.
He didn’t think so; Cash had been pretty honest even when he was promising to run away. But that backrub had been very professional, and Cash was pointedly only looking at Glen’s eyes when they were making conversation.
“What’s wrong?” Cash asked, coming back for him.
“You know,” Glen said, not looking at him, “if you want, you can stay at the hotel when we go try to find your friend. We’re a search-and-rescue outfit—you don’t need to put yourself in danger.”
“The actual hell—”
“Look, the backrub was nice, and I’m grateful that you took care of me and all, but you don’t have to pretend you want me to get me to help.”
Cash was staring at him.
“I’m just saying that—”
“That you are the dumbest asshole who ever flew a goddamned plane.”
And with that, Cash turned around and stalked off, and Glen’s stomach, which had been pretty knotted up with those first doubts, sort of untangled itself. He hurried to catch up with Cash, who humphed and walked faster.
“Cash…. Kid—”
“I am not a kid!” Cash whirled toward him, close enough to punctuate every word with a finger pounding directly on Glen’s sternum. “I am not a kid, and I’m not hanging out with you just so you’ll help me, and you are not any less stupid than you were five minutes ago!”
“Then how come you haven’t looked at me in an hour!” Glen shouted back, grabbing Cash’s wrist.
“Because I still want you!” Cash yelled. He yanked at his hand, but Glen didn’t release him. Instead, he brought up his other hand and began to rub Cash’s upper arm.
“Then why not just say that?” Glen said with a little laugh.
“Because we can’t.” Cash sounded altogether wretched. “Because we jumped into bed too soon last time, and it was awesome. And then I left you twice, and I broke your heart. We can’t bang like bunnies right now—you’ll never believe I want you for real if we do that. But I do want you for real, and I don’t know what to do when you’re wandering around with your shirt off and I’m trying to be a responsible adult who doesn’t jump guys in a heartbeat!”
“Well,” Glen said, smiling. “I did not expect that.”
Cash closed his eyes and raised his face up to the shifting clouds overhead. “I want something real with you so bad,” he said miserably. “I don’t know how to make it happen.”
Glen kept rubbing Cash’s arm, grateful to feel it relax under his touch. “How about holding my hand,” he suggested. Very deliberately, he laced their fingers together, and Cash shifted his gaze to watch him.
“That’s a start,” he said, sounding very pathetic indeed.
“And then,” Glen said, “we’ll walk—just walk, mind you—for a little while more and then go back to our hotel room.”
“And then what?” Cash’s eyes were enormous in the moonlight, and his mouth parted, plump and juicy. Glen wanted nothing more than to plunder it, to take Cash here, on the sand, or to take him back to the hotel room and ravish all of him. His body sang with the memory of exactly how good the two of them were together, exactly how good they could be.
But he’d been listening. I do want you for real.
Cash was trying here. Maybe not smoothly—but there was some earnestness in there. Of course, Glen was inclined to think kindly of him after he’d gotten a backrub and a nap, but he didn’t have it in him to be mean or cold for any length of time.
And he didn’t have it in him to destroy what Cash was working for either.
“Play cards,” Glen said, his mouth twisting since he knew that wasn’t what Cash wanted any more than it was what he wanted. “We go back and play cards.”
“Poker?” Cash asked.
“Rummy,” Glen told him. “Who plays poker with two people?”
“Rummy,” Cash agreed. His mouth thinned into a sarcastic smile. “Sounds unforgettable.”
“Nothing about you is forgettable,” Glen said, stone-cold sober. “That’s why we’re playing rummy.”
Cash turned to walk some more, but he stayed close to Glen, like they were friends, or even lovers.
And he kept tight hold of Glen’s hand the entire time.
They went back to the hotel and played rummy until Spencer and Damien knocked on their door to let them know they’d gotten back.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Damien said with a yawn. “Time for all good boys to go to bed.”
Spencer grunted and Damien shoulder-bumped him.
“That’s you too. No going out and getting laid—we have to be up early.”
Spencer looked bored, but he acquiesced on a burp. “I’ve got some gas anyway. Damned burritos. Tasted great, but seriously—one of those could blow up a concert hall.”
Glen and Damien stared at him.
“I can’t even believe…,” Damien began.
“Who would bang this guy?” Glen asked in awe.
“You assholes only wish you knew,” Spencer muttered. “Night, killjoys. No banging your boyfriends either. If I have to suffer, we all have to suffer.”
And with that he stalked off, leaving Damien to shut the door behind him and Glen and Cash to look at each other and laugh.
They went to bed not long after that, wearing sweats because the room was chilly. Cash scooted close enough for them to whisper, and Glen thought that he sure was pretty. It hadn’t been the first thing he’d noticed about Cash Harper, but once the stubborn chin and the big velvet eyes landed their punch, that sting wasn’t going away.
“I know how Spence gets guys,” Cash whispered.
“Do I want to know this?” Glen had seen the parade of men through Spencer’s room. Little blond twinks, big hairy bears—the variety was endless, and Glen was seriously in awe.
“You do,” Cash said, peeking up through his impossibly long lashes. “It’s the same way you got me.”
“They talk him into it?” That did not sound right at all.
Cash laughed. “No.” He pressed his palm against Glen’s chest and spread his fingers flat. “This right here. And if you say your pecs, I’ll deck you. His heart. It’s as good as yours. But I only want yours.”
Glen found a wicked smile twisting the corners of his mouth. “Good. ’Cause I might have to cook his up and eat it for breakfast if you suddenly went another way with that.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Cash said, not taking the bait. “You’d get all sad and noble and maybe move out and maybe drink a whole lot you shouldn’t. But you wouldn’t hurt your friend. And that’s why you. Why we’re not banging tonight. Why we’re waiting until we get Brielle safe and then it’s just you and me and reckoning. Because your heart is good. And you wouldn’t hurt your friend, even though you care for me too.”