Page 7 of Euphoria

“That’s smart in a way,” Hugh said.

“Yeah,” Colter said, a silly grin on his face. Seeing him that way made Hugh want to tell him that he was a liar and that he was exactly his type, but it was too late to take back his words. “When I was sixteen, my grandfather told me that if I wanted a car, I’d have to go out and get myself a job. I did too. I worked as a bag boy at the local grocery store, and when I had earned enough money to get a beat-up old mustang, he talked me out of buying it. He said that I should hold out for something a little better, so I did. My grandfather had never steered me wrong, so I trusted him.”

“How long did you have to wait for a car?” Hugh asked.

“About two weeks,” Colter admitted. “I went to the bank to put my paycheck in and realized that my account was practically wiped out. I ran home to tell my grandfather and that’s when I saw the shiny black pickup truck he got me. He told me that he took the money from my account, doubled it with some money he had saved up, and was able to get me my first truck. I loved that damn thing.”

“That’s a great memory,” Hugh said. “And you didn’t have any idea that maybe he was hiding money away when he was able to help you get the truck?”

“Nope,” Colter said. “He never let on that he had money stashed away. In fact, I felt bad that I was draining his savings. I told him that he should save his money for when he couldn’t work anymore, and he said that it wouldn’t matter because he didn’t plan on becoming an old man. He said that if he did, I had permission to run him over with my truck because all old people did was complain about aches and pains. My grandpa wanted to go out on his own terms.”

“Did he?” Hugh almost whispered.

“Almost,” Colter said. “He lived to be seventy-two and died from colon cancer. I hated seeing him suffer through treatments, and after the first round of chemo failed, he refused any new treatments. He sat me down and explained to me that it was his time. He told me that I’d be fine—that he’d make sure of it. I tried begging him to reconsider, but he told me that I was a man now and that I shouldn’t waste any more time taking care of him. He said that I had important things to do in the world and spoon feeding an invalid wasn’t one of them. He died three weeks later—on his own terms. No treatments, no hospitals or nurses sticking him with needles—although he liked the nurses.”

“He sounds like a great guy,” Hugh said.

“Thank you, he was. I loved him very much and miss him every day. But he was right, I found a way to move on with the money that he and my parents left me. I’ve started a life here, and so far, I like it.”

“I hope that I can be as happy as you are here, Colter,” Hugh admitted. He had his doubts. The only time he thought he was happy was with Luke, and that turned out to be a lie.

“I hope that you can too, Hugh,” Colter said. He wrapped his arm around Hugh and pulled him in for an awkward side hug, but Hugh honestly didn’t mind. He leaned into Colter and when he realized that he was crossing so many lines and probably breaking a bunch of rules, he pulled away.

“Sorry,” Hugh whispered.

“Don’t be,” Colter said. “Sooner or later, you’ll come around.” Hugh wanted to ask him what the hell that meant, but he didn’t. He wasn’t about to open a whole can of worms before he went up to bed. He’d be up all night thinking about Colter as it was.

“I’m going to head up to bed if that’s all right with you,” Hugh breathed.

“Yep,” Colter said, “I’ll lock up down here and probably do the same. Sleep tight, Hugh,” he whispered.

“You too,” Hugh said. He walked to the staircase and didn’t bother looking back. He could feel Colter’s eyes on him the whole way, and damn if that didn’t make him feel like he was about to combust from the raw heat he was putting out.

Colter

Colter woke up in the middle of the night after having the strangest dream about his grandfather. He hadn’t dreamed about him since just after he passed, but tonight’s dream felt so real. He kept telling him to wake up because something was wrong, but when Colter woke and looked around the room, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Hey,” Hugh said. He was standing in Colter’s doorway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I think that Melvin is upset about something. He’s really meowing downstairs.”

Colter sat up and looked at his phone. “It’s three in the fucking morning,” he grumbled. He really wasn’t a cat person, and his grandfather was probably laughing his ass off from the great beyond at the fact that Colter was taking care of Melvin.

“I can run down and check on him,” Hugh offered.

“No, he’s my responsibility. I can see what’s going on with him. Dumb cat is probably just hungry or something,” Colter said, sliding out of his warm bed. He flicked on the lights and didn’t miss the way that Hugh checked out his body in just hisboxer briefs. Hugh wasn’t wearing much more—just a pair of sweatpants that did nothing to hide the outline of his cock.

“I’ll at least tag along in case you need any help,” Hugh offered.

“I’m pretty sure that I can feed a cat on my own,” Colter countered. “But if you want to tag along, go for it.” They both only had about two hours of sleep since sitting up and going over the house rules. Colter was exhausted and he was pretty sure that Hugh had to feel about the same way.

They walked down to the family room, where the meowing was the loudest, and found Melvin sitting in the corner of the room, looking out the sliding glass door that went to the back porch. He seemed really upset about whatever was out there and Colter knew that if he wanted to go back to sleep, he’d need to figure out what was driving Melvin out of his mind.

“What do you think he’s so upset about? Do you think that he wants to go out?” Hugh asked.

“Melvin is an inside cat. My grandfather picked him up at a shelter when he was about a year or two old. Some asshole declawed him and if he gets out, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself,” Colter said, remembering the story that his grandfather told him.

“Declawing a cat is inhumane,” Hugh growled. “I mean, I don’t know much about cats, but I at least know that.”

“Yeah, well, someone out there didn’t know that, and Melvin paid the price. He’s okay now, as long as he stays in the house.” Colter walked over to the door and looked out into the darkness, trying to figure out what Melvin was meowing at. He didn’t see the mother cat and her four babies until he turned on the back light.

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