Page 115 of Role Model

“You’re the bees knees, sweetheart.”

The kitchen was surprisingly large and smelled amazing. Harris set his pie on the counter and said, “Want something to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

Harris opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles of his sisters’ cider, then handed one to Troy. “Maybe this will take the edge off.”

“I’m fine,” Troy said, though it was another lie. He was trying very hard to ignore how surreal this all felt. His relationship with Adrian had been based on a mutual fear of discovery. They had certainly never met each other’s families. It hadn’t even been discussed. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing with Harris, but he knew he didn’t want the same sort of arrangement he’d had with Adrian. He wanted to get to know Harris’s family, and he wanted them to like him.

Which was a lot.

“Wanna see my old bedroom?” Harris asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Troy managed a half smile. “Are you allowed to have boys up there?”

Harris took a step toward him. “You’d be the first one.”

Oh. “Really?”

“Yeah. Wanna see it?”

Hell yes, Troy did.

Troy Barrett was in Harris’s childhood bedroom, sitting on his old, creaky twin bed, and Harris was trying very hard to be cool about it.

“This is a lot of Ottawa Centaurs stuff,” Troy observed.

He wasn’t lying. There were posters, pennants, and knickknacks everywhere. Harris had hockey cards shoved in the frame of his mirror. Even the bedside lamp had a Centaurs branded shade.

“I was a bit of a fan.”

“I’m a little concerned. This feels like you might have lured me up here to add to your collection.”

Harris grinned. “I was thinking about chaining you to my bed.”

Troy’s lips curved up. “This bed?” He bounced a couple of times, making it squeak loudly. “I think the detectives would find me.”

“Stop bouncing!” Harris hissed. “Mom and Dad will think we’re doing it!”

“Like this?” Troy bounced some more.

“Oh my god.” Harris lunged at him, and seconds later he had Troy pinned on his back and was sprawled on top of him.

“Be awkward if they walked in right now,” Troy said. Their lips were so close together that Harris could feel his breath tickle.

“We should get up, probably,” Harris murmured.

“Mm.” Then they were kissing. Harris had probably started it, but Troy was definitely into it, kissing Harris in that slow, exploratory way that absolutely melted Harris every time.

There was a loud crash behind them, which broke them apart.

“What the hell?” Troy asked.

“Uncle Elroy,” Harris said, dipping his head for another kiss.

Troy sat up, nearly knocking Harris to the floor. “Fuck off. It’s not a fucking ghost. What was it really?”

Harris glanced behind his shoulder and spotted the culprit on top of his dresser. “Ursula.”

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