Page 12 of Game On

“Why do you think my parents stuck me in hockey? They figured it’d be better for me to expend my energy in a safe environment. I’ve mellowed a lot since then, though. Hey, why is this in the no pile?”

“The popcorn’s soft,” Dorian told Jamie as he opened the bag of sea salt and maple popcorn. “Popcorn’s meant to be crunchy.”

“You won’t mind if I eat it, then.” Jamie didn’t wait for an answer before he dug into the bag.

Dorian cocked his head, unsure if he was amused or irritated that Jamie had made himself at home so easily. “Trust me, it’s not worth your tastebuds.”

Jamie chewed slowly. “It’s not terrible.”

“‘Not terrible’ isn’t good enough for my box. I’m actually meeting with a new gourmet popcorn maker in Nanaimo on Monday. Want to come? I’m taking the ferry in the morning, back by midafternoon. Not a long trip, but it’ll give you a chance to sightsee a little.”

The bag crinkled when Jamie closed it. “Thanks, but I’m planning on visiting my parents on Monday.”

“They’re nearby?”

“Ish. Kelowna.”

“No shit. You’re a BC boy?”

“Born and raised. Been a long time since I’ve lived here, though.” Longing and wistfulness peppered Jamie’s voice. He seemed to realize it, because he smiled a touch too brightly and settled into a corner of the couch. “Since we’re going to be housemates... What do I need to know about you, Dorian Shore? Other than your aversion to pets and that you’re as gay as a double rainbow.”

“I do not have an aversion to pets,” Dorian said grandly. “I just don’t want them in my house.”

“Uh-huh.” Jamie’s gaze was much too amused. “Get bit by a dog when you were a kid or something?”

Dorian crossed his arms over his chest. “It was a hamster, if you must know.”

“That’s how they show love.”

“That is a bald-faced lie.”

“You don’t know that it’s not true.”

“Maybe not, but in this case, I’m going to say that it’s safe to assume.”

Jamie’s smile did something to Dorian’s middle.

“So?” Jamie said. “What do I need to know about you?”

“What you need to know,” Dorian said, rising, “is that I have dinner in the slow cooker and it should be ready. With you being on East Coast time, I figured you’d be hungry about now.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Jamie rose as well, his larger body filling up all the space in the room. “I was going to order something.”

“Consider it my version of welcome balloons.”

“Well, then... I’m honoured.”

“You should be.” Dorian shot him a grin as he headed out of the office. “I hate cooking.”

Not a lie, but not the whole truth either. It wasn’t so much that he hated cooking. It was more that he found it a tedious chore. Logically, he knew he had to feed himself, but cooking took time away from other things he could be doing. Working. Meeting with vendors. Following up on emails. Catching up on work for Mark. Hanging out with his cousins.

He was more likely to order whatever was convenient than cook.

“I’m doubly honoured, then,” Jamie said.

“And for dessert,” Dorian added over his shoulder, “I may let you have one of my cousin’s chocolate hazelnut cake jars.”

“Now you’re speaking my language.”

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