Page 14 of Last Resort

“I’ll need more.” Ben sighed. “I’m trying not to overthink this thing with Erik. We get along great. When something goes wrong, we talk it out. Neither one of us do toxic shit. I know he’s not going to cheat on me, and I’d never betray his trust. We’re comfortable just watching television or reading without ‘doing’ anything. It’s perfect. Which freaks me out a little.”

Sean’s eyebrow quirked up. “You’re freaked because it’s too good?”

“I know it’s crazy, but I spent years not believing I could ever have things work out right,” Ben confessed. Sean was his oldest and closest confidante, and while their lives had taken different directions, Erik was the only person he trusted as much as his cousin.

“I mean, Erik used to travel the world. He worked for major museums and got called in on high-profile cases. I’m just a guy from Newark.”

“Except Erik wasn’t doing publicity tours. He was busting big-time bad guys with really powerful connections,” Sean pointed out. “So you both had the same job—nailing sleazebags. His just had more Benjamins to throw around.”

“I didn’t say the feelings were rational,” Ben replied. “Just owning my shit. Like telling myself that it was okay to take up space in the apartment. I kept trying to squeeze into small corners so I didn’t overwhelm.”

“That’s Caleb in your head,” Sean pointed out. “He was always getting on you about your comics stuff being ‘silly’ and ‘too expensive’ and ‘taking up too much room.’ Bounce that bastard right out of your brain. If you’re going to live with Erik, then the apartment has to be home for both of you.”

“I know—and that’s what Erik’s gone out of his way to point out. Bad habits are hard to unlearn.”

Sean leaned in. “Dude. You two haven’t been together a whole year yet, and you’ve both risked your lives to save each other from the fuckin’Mafia.I haven’t met anyone I’d risk a parking ticket for. Why are you worried about where to hang your Comic-Con art? He’s over the moon for you, and you’re so damn smitten it’s sorta disgusting. Quit worrying and just enjoy it. You’ve earned some good karma.”

“I guess so.” Ben believed what Sean told him, but he had to argue with his own insecurity and inner critic to accept that something good had finally come his way.

“Here’s the part that matters—you’re both good guys.” Sean leaned back in his chair. “You’re real. I see plenty of posers on the boardwalk and in the clubs. You two know who you are, and you’re okay with it—and with each other. Not trying to pretend to be something you aren’t, or change the other person. That’s rare. You’re lucky. So don’t be a dumbass and screw it up.”

Ben understood the affection beneath the snark. “Yeah, yeah. That’s probably your whole year’s worth of caring and sharing. But…thanks.” He paused. “So…how are Aunt Meg and Uncle Stewart?”

Sean looked relieved at the change of topic. He crumpled his can of Coke after draining the very last drops and set it on the table, idly spinning it back and forth with his finger.

“They’re real good. Took a cruise to Alaska and then went down to Bermuda. I think they want to go on that train that crosses Canada, and the last time I was home, Mom had brochures from some paddle-wheeler that goes down the Mississippi. Living their best lives.”

“Good for them,” Ben said. “I hope they know I want to see pictures.”

“I will pass that along.”

Ben had been putting off the question he wanted to ask and couldn’t delay any longer. “You hear any rumors about the Mob lately?”

Sean gave him a look. “I thought you were going to quit being a cop.”

“I am. I have. It’s just that stuff keeps finding us,” Ben admitted. He told Sean about the poker chips, leaving out the woo-woo aspects about the mysterious hotel and malevolent genius loci for now.

“You just can’t help stepping in it, can you?” Sean shook his head. “Actually, it’s been fairly quiet on that angle. The guys who threatened to rough up my truck got caught, and after you and Erik pulled that big crazy showdown, the mobsters shaking down the food vendors are either too intimidated or too embarrassed to show their faces.”

“Nothing about old casinos?”

“Nope. Unless you mean the ones in Atlantic City that keep trying to stay relevant. Given the age of their customers, they’d probably do well adding an assisted living wing.”

“Can’t take you out in public with a mouth like that.” Ben sighed, although he appreciated Sean’s inappropriate humor.

Sean started to say something, probably about other uses for his mouth, and Ben held up a hand.

“Don’t say it. Just…don’t.”

“Made you think it though, didn’t I?” Sean’s eyes gleamed with nefarious glee.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I’d agree, but I don’t think I can spell that.”

Ben balled up a napkin and threw it at Sean. He knew Sean was smart, even if his cousin often did his best to hide the evidence.

“Anything new with the guys?” Ben had gotten fond of Sean’s three roommates and enjoyed chances to spend time with them. He was equally grateful that they had accepted Erik into the group.

---