Page 5 of Sugared

Then he took a sharp breath as understanding hit him.

“Ean, I didn’t bring you here to…take advantage of you,” he said in a grave voice. “I just want to help you. I mean that. And I don’t expect anything in return.”

Ean’s eyes started to sting with tears of embarrassment and relief, so he lowered his head.

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Leland asked quietly and with far too much care.

He was so kind and genuine that Ean failed to stifle the sob that welled up in him.

“Hey, hey,” Leland said, shifting forward and pulling Ean into his arms. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

It was so wonderful that all Ean could do was wrap his arms around Leland and hug him back as he cried on Leland’s shoulder. At the same time, it sucked so hard. He was a grown man, someone who should already have been out on his own, taking care of himself and not screwing up so badly that he had to turn tricks to eat. Once Leland knew the full story, he probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him.

“Take a deep breath,” Leland told him, rubbing his back. “You’re going to be okay now. I’ve got you, and I’m not going to let things fall apart for you again.”

“But you don’t even know me,” Ean sniffled against Leland’s shoulder.

“Of course I do,” Leland laughed hugging him tighter. “You’re Ean Jones. You draw fantastic pictures and you have a beautiful laugh.”

Ean snapped his head up to gape at Leland. “You remember my pictures?”

“I sure do,” Leland said. “I was always a little jealous of your talent.”

Ean blinked in surprise. He didn’t know what to say. About anything. At all.

“I tell you what,” Leland said, letting him go. “Why don’t you shower. Not because of anything I want but because you want to. I’ll find something clean for you to wear while you’re in there. Hawthorne House has a huge room upstairs called the clothes room that’s filled with everything you could possibly ask for in every size imaginable. I have a class to teach in forty-five minutes, but you’re welcome to sit in until we have a chance to talk about what’s going on and how to fix it.”

“Okay,” Ean said, sniffling and wiping his face as his tears changed from despair to hope. It was the first real hope he’d felt in months.

“Go on, then,” Leland said with his warmest smile. “Everything you need including towels is in the bathroom already. It’s right through there.”

Ean turned to see where Leland was pointing, then nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to reach the bathroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt really clean.

The shower was every bit as wonderful as he’d dreamed it would be. Ean washed his hair with the best smelling shampoo and probably used too much body wash, but he couldn’t help it. The bubbles made him laugh with pure joy as he watched them swirl away down the drain, taking the dirt and his feeling of hopelessness with them.

Once he was out of the shower, he took the liberty of using Leland’s razor to shave, even though he barely grew any facial hair at all. It just felt good to do. He didn’t want to put his filthy clothes on again, ever, but there was a bathrobe hanging from a hook behind the door, so he donned that before going in search of Leland.

Leland was waiting for him in the flat’s main room with a small pile of clothes.

“I hope these will fit,” he said, holding up a pair of jeans in one hand and a jumper in the other. “If not, there’s a bunch more upstairs.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Ean said, breathless with relief at the good turn his luck had taken.

“I hate to rush you, but my class starts in ten minutes,” Leland went on.

Ean jumped forward to take the clothes, then retreated to the bathroom again so he could put them on. Everything fit well enough, even though Leland had forgotten to get him underwear. He’d remembered socks and even shoes, though. Within five minutes, Ean looked and felt better than he had in ages.

“I hope you don’t mind sitting in on my class,” Leland said as they headed downstairs. “You can even participate if you’d like.”

“In a cooking class?”

The idea was thrilling. Food had become something deeply special to Ean. The idea of learning how to make it took his breath away.

“Yeah, sure,” Leland smiled and ruffled his damp hair. It didn’t feel like a condescending gesture, even though Ean was a good foot shorter than him. It just felt cozy and welcoming, like Leland had always been with him. “I bet you’d make a great cook.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ean said with a bashful smile. “I’d like to try, though.”

“Be my guest,” Leland said as they turned a corner into a massive, industrial kitchen.

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