Page 79 of Dead Serious with Benefits
“This really is amazing, I wasn’t saying that just to get under Mason’s skin,” Arlo said as he took another drink. “But yes, he probably has forgotten. He and his partner, Jace, have a long history, a rather complicated one at that. The short and sweet is that they spent most of their lives in middle school absolutely despising one another. Recently, that...changed. They still bicker and argue, but as far too many people have learned against their will, arguing and fighting doesn’t hurt their...personal lives together; if anything, it seems to enhance it.”
“I was always told that’s not a healthy way to have a relationship, even if it sounds hot as hell,” I said as I sat down.
“That’s because Jace and I do more than fight and fuck,” Mason said as he came back. “We also sleep, we eat, we go to work, and sometimes we bicker and fuck.”
“Productive, responsible, and absolutely erotic, I can appreciate it,” I said, raising my glass in salute.
“Someone understands,” Mason said with a wink. “It almost makes up for you beating me at my own game.”
Arlo leaned in. “Mason likes to pretend he and Jace haven’t worked their butts off to learn how to make things work between them. They might not be all that secretive about their personal lives, but they have a vow of silence when it comes to admitting that they’ve learned to work together and communicate.”
“Yeah, well, people don’t want to hear that things between Jace and me work because we discuss our feelings and show each other patience,” Mason said with a wrinkled nose. “They want to hear that we fuck each other senseless until he can’t be pissy and I can’t be annoying.”
“There isn’t enough in the world to improve his overall disposition, or prevent you from getting on someone’s nerves,” Arlo said, and I laughed, earning a surprised look from him.
“What? This is the sassiest I’ve ever seen you,” I said with a chuckle. “I like you even more around your family than I thought I did.”
“God, I hope so,” Mason said, staring over my shoulder. “Because you’re about to see more.”
“I’m telling you, it’s a great idea,” a high, excited voice chattered from behind me.
“No, it’s really not,” another voice said. “And if you end up in the ER again, Moira might actually spare us the bill and just kill you outright.”
“She would not,” the first voice said as I turned around to see two men walking toward us. One was dark to the other’s light, in both coloring and in immediate personality. The dark-haired one wasn’t reallydark,but he didn’t exude sunshine from every orifice like the other. Yet it was clear that despite their ‘argument’ neither of them was interested in fighting, as both were smiling, one in a big grin, the other in a quieter way.
“This would be Milo and Elijah, or Eli, except for Arlo, who likes to talk like a grammar school teacher,” Mason said, gesturing first to the blond and then to the dark-haired one.
“Oh,theMilo and Eli?” I asked Arlo, who sighed and nodded.
“The?” Milo asked. “Whythe?”
“He probably told him about, you know,us,” Eli said with a snort, holding out a hand. “I’m Eli, hi.”
“Ward,” I said, shaking his hand.
“Are you a friend of Mason’s?” Eli asked, glancing between us.
“No, I’m...with Arlo,” I said, gesturing behind me.
Eli blinked and nodded. “I...see. Okay.”
Milo’s eyes went wide, and he stepped forward. “Wait, like, as in, with? Like, Arlo, are you?—”
His question was swiftly interrupted as he fell forward, hitting the ground behind my chair and taking out the chair next to me with a huge clatter. The reason became apparent when Eli gently drew his foot back as Milo cursed.
“You’ll have to forgive him; he wasn’t properly house-trained,” Eli told me as Milo rolled over to get back up and tried to launch himself at Eli, who stepped to the side, nimbly avoiding the attempt. “It’s not Marty’s fault, don’t blame her. Some people just can’t be trained.”
Anything else he might have said ended when Milo finally jumped on Eli from behind, wrapping both arms and legs around him and sending them careening off to the side. There were a couple of shouts of encouragement from the bar area, and I turned back to Arlo and Mason, who seemed completely unfazed by the chaos.
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that this is nothing new,” I guessed as I glanced between them.
“Sort of,” Arlo said. “They have yet to break anything.”
There came a crash from behind us.
“Ah, there it is,” Arlo said, sipping his cocktail.
“Milo, Elijah! Take it outside my hotel, or so help me,” a new voice piped up, and the chaos ended abruptly. “You know what? No, you aren’t getting anything from this hotel until you get your butts down to the laundry room and start folding. That room better be empty by the end of my shift, or you’re going to do it all over again tomorrow.”
