Page 20 of Third Time Lucky

“Knew I was doing something wrong.”

“Keep trying. One day you might manage it.”

“One day,” Lake sang.

Grady started opening and closing cupboards, and Lake didn’t bother asking what he was doing. Whatever he was looking for, he would eventually find it, or he wouldn’t. Lake wasn’t going out again if he didn’t have some weird, obscure cooking utensil. They were having steak and chips; surely he didn’t need something that wasn’t already a kitchen staple.

Lake shuffled backwards on the table—carefulnotto spill his drink—and crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his bent knees.

Grady pulled a fry pan from the cupboard, set it on the stove, and turned the temperature on.

“Don’t you need oil in that?” Lake asked, pointing.

“Once the pan heats,” Grady said absently, now in search of something else.

“I’d offer you a blueprint of my kitchen, but… I don’t have one,” Lake said, grinning. Was it possible to get blueprints of your own house? Lake would love to frame one just because.

“Plates, Lake. I’m looking for plates.” He sounded both exasperated and amused, and Lake smiled automatically in response.

“Top shelf over there.”

“I would almost have not been surprised if you didn’t have any and instead had a hoard of paper plates.”

“I ran out last month,” Lake said. “Had to give in and buy some real ones. It was pure torture, let me tell you. Avery had to come and hold my hand.”

“Your brother, right?” Grady glanced at him as he went where directed. “So, what about your family?”

“What about them?” Lake asked.

“You asked me about mine. Fair’s fair.”

Oh. Lake hadn’t really expected Grady to ask him. He seemed allergic to small talk. “My mum’s name is Gayle; she’s a librarian at um… I forgot the name, the big one in the city? She likes to dress up like a stern headmistress—tight bun, glasses, you know, scary looking?—but she’s actually really nice.”

“I can’t imagine someone who produced you not being nice,” Grady said, pouring oil he must have foundsomewhereinto the frying pan. Lake’s pantry was like a lucky dip. Who knew what was in there? Lake didn’t know.

Lake licked his lips. “I’ve decided I’m taking that as a compliment. Though she also produced Avery, and he’s a menace, so…” Lake shrugged, still grinning. “Genes are weird. My dad, Dave, he’s a painter. Buildings and stuff, not crazy murals like Avery, who is an artist and owns an art store. It’s just the two of us siblings. He’s five years younger than me and now basically engaged to my two best friends.”

“How do you feel about that?”

No one had asked him that before. It stumped him for a second because he didn’t have a pre-prepared answer. “I don’t have a problem with it,” he said eventually, which was the truth. “Felix and Zach have been in love with Aves for a stupid long time, and they waited a long time to tell him, which is dumb, and it almost blew up in their faces, but it all came together on Christmas Eve like some kind of beautiful fairy tale. It was very romantic. And now they’re playing house. Well… I don’t think Aves has moved in, but it’ll happen.”

“And you’re okay with”—Grady waved his hand in the air—“all that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? They’ll look after him, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for Avery. He’s prickly, but he deserves love.”

They settled into less serious conversation after that, ranging from movie preferences to which animal would win in a fight—a bear would totally trounce a lion,c’mon—as they finished making dinner together, drinking more of Grady’s whiskey that Lake absolutely needed to buy.

They ended up in the lounge with their plates on their laps as they watched the basketball match. The JackJumpers ended up winning by three points. Lake smacked Grady on the cheek with a broccolini, but he maintained it wasn’t his fault because he’d slipped when cutting his steak, and the impressive jump the green made had been all on its own enthusiasm and drive. That broccolini had obviously lived by the “go big or go home” philosophy. Lake applauded the effort. As a reward, he ate it.

Lake had only known Grady for a few days, but it felt like he’d known him a lifetime. He felt comfortable, and content, and happy all at once. He fell asleep on the couch next to Grady with a smile on his face. He woke at some point to find himself in his bed and Grady’s sleeping form beside him, moonlight casting shadows across his handsome face.

He settled back into his pillow, facing Grady, and went back to sleep.

Making new friends was nice.

Gradyhadneverhadhis phone on his desk and face up as much as he had lately. He felt like a school kid with a crush, waiting for the nextdingfrom his phone telling him he had an incoming message. He hadn’t seen Lake since Monday night, but the guy had been sending him random text messages throughout the day all week. Sometimes they were random questions, random thoughts—it was an exact replica of him in person, where Grady was sure he just wrote what he thought without thinking about it, just blurted it out and it made Grady feel like he was right there with him—and pictures with captions that made Grady snort coffee up his nose.

He glared at his phone and flipped it so the screen was faced away. This was ridiculous. He hadn’t even been this bad when he and Mal had first started dating. He wasn’t even dating Lake! It wasn’t even a precursor to dating, because Lake wasn’t into men. And after he’d found Mal in bed with another guy—another friend of theirs, even—Grady wasn’t in any hurry to put himself back out there. Especially not with a guy who couldn’t return his affections. It was Gay 101: don’t fall for the straight guy. Even Grady knew that.

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