Page 46 of Ends of the Earth
Eventually she cried herself to sleep again, and Jason leaned over her, brushing back her hair and watching for any signs of another nightmare.
After a little while, he sat crossed-legged on the thin cot, eyes still glued to Maggie. He murmured, “I can’t believe I actually slept.”
“You needed it.”
Jason looked across the bed to Ben, who rolled his head from side to side, grimacing. “You must be exhausted.”
Ben shrugged. “I’ll take a nap later. Do you want anything? Coffee? Water?”
Jason bit back a moan at the very thought. “Coffee would be amazing. Sweet, sweet caffeine.”
Ben’s cheeks creased. “Ah, so the way to your heart is through a venti cappuccino.”
“Definitely.” His stomach somersaulted as he returned Ben’s flirty smile. Because it was definitely flirty, right?
While Ben was gone, Jason rolled over the question in his mind. The night before, Ben had seen him completely naked—had given him a bath like he was a child. And maybe that’s why Jason hadn’t felt uncomfortable at all, because Ben hadn’t been flirting with him whatsoever then.
Jason had been able to close his eyes and be taken care of for the first time in… He honestly couldn’t remember. With Ben, he didn’t feel as if he was being judged for needing help. He didn’t feel weak or not-good-enough.
With Ben, he could breathe.
He’d been able to close his eyes and put himself completely in Ben’s strong hands, let everything go and sink into trust and comfort. Memories bloomed: the lap of warm water and wet cloth against his skin, Ben’s steady breathing matching Jason’s heartbeat. He hadn’t had to try to impress or be anything. He’d only had to be.
“Dad?”
Blinking, he snapped his attention to Maggie, who smiled up at him blearily. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”
She stretched her arms over her head. Her eyes were puffy and voice hoarse, but he wasn’t sure if it was from crying or the lung congestion. “Good. Is it breakfast time?”
“Yes, I’m sure it’ll be here any minute.” He kissed her forehead. “Do you want to tell me about your dream?”
Her gaze skittered away. “No. I don’t remember it now.”
“I know it’s not easy, but I think you should tell me. You’ll feel better.”
“I told you—I don’t remember it anyway. I’m fine.”
Jason normally knew how much to push, but the rules had all changed. “It can be really hard to talk about scary things. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Her eye roll was reassuringly familiar. “Daaad, I’m fine.” Her face lit up. “Hi, Ben!”
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Ben stood in the open doorway, a cardboard drink holder in one hand, a large paper bag in the other. To Jason, he said, “I can come back?”
“No, it’s okay.” If Maggie wanted to pretend nothing was wrong, he’d play along for the moment. He smiled. “Don’t you dare take my coffee away.”
Ben settled himself in the chair across the bed, passing over the coffee and an orange juice for Maggie. He sipped his own coffee and opened the paper bag. “I thought doughnut holes were in order.”
Maggie gasped with joy before coughing. “Is there powdered jelly?”
“Absolutely.” Ben folded down the bag and put it on the bed so they could peek in and pick. Jason popped a chocolate glazed into his mouth, savoring the soft sweetness and washing it down with a perfect coffee, strong and with just the right amount of milk.
While Maggie and Ben talked doughnuts and favorite baked goods, Jason thought of a list of questions for Dr. Sharma. He’d ask what Ben thought too about how much to push Maggie to talk. He didn’t want to upset her, but choking down her feelings wouldn’t work.
It was a relief to have a friend to consult for an opinion, and as he sipped his coffee and watched Ben and Maggie laugh, it really hit Jason just how isolated he’d been. He hadn’t allowed himself to become more than passing acquaintances with anyone after Amy’s death and the drama with his parents.
Now he had Ben, although he knew he shouldn’t get used to it. He and Maggie would have to go home soon. On one hand, the thought of his own bed and their familiar little apartment was wonderful. On the other, he’d probably never see Ben again. His gut clenched. Maybe they could stay in touch on Facebook or through email and texts or whatever.
Maybe we could be more than friends.
“Dad, tell him to stop being silly.” Maggie giggled.
Ben flattened his hand on his chest, faux wounded. “Silly? I am never silly.”
“Woodpeckers and beavers aren’t cousins! That’s impossible.”
“So it would seem,” Ben said. “Let’s examine the evidence. Jason, you can be the judge.”
He realized he was grinning. “Okay.”
Ben returned his smile, and a tingle ran down Jason’s spine. Ben opened his mouth to make his case when a deep voice rumbled.
