Checking Out Love (7 page)

Benj gave him an innocent look. “You should hear what my grandmother says she used to do in here.”

Jeremy was going to get hysterical if he thought about Benj’s grandmother, or his family, or this library, or whatever the historic house on the other side of town looked like, or the probable mansion in the city they owned. Jeremy had history too, and a long line of ancestors, but he hadn’t just fucked someone in a monument to his family’s name.

He cleared his throat, then debated for half a second before sticking out his hand. “I’m Jeremy.”

“Leland.” Benj frowned at Jeremy’s impolite scoff. “But nobody calls me that. Everyone calls me Benj, or Benjamin.” He took Jeremy’s hand, but didn’t shake it. He didn’t let go either.

“I know I already have an appointment to see you tomorrow.” Jeremy’s mouth was running, his mind spinning, and he made no move to stop either. “I know I have like no free time ever, and won’t for at least a year, and if we do this, you’re barely going to see me. But… wanna go get some coffee with me anyway?” Jeremy winced. “Uh, after I clean up?”

“The place across the street is closed this time on a weeknight,” Benj answered, his gaze drifting down to Jeremy’s rumpled shirt. He was probably considering what lay beneath.

“Oh.” Jeremy wasn’t sure what else to say.

Benj looked up into his eyes. “But I live next door.”

“
Oh
,” Jeremy answered, in a much different tone. He blinked then, taking in the lavender, remembering the sky blue, the plants throughout the library and all those flowers. “In the Historical Society building?” He had to fight not to shout or squeal in delight. “That incredible, beautiful Painted Lady? Did you choose the colors? Do you know there’s a history of denying or fearing color in Western art history, especially in perceptions of the nineteenth century? Then there is that house, that brilliant house, that nineteenth century house, and you painted it all those different shades of—is that Persephone on the porch? She’s been judging me. Do you work from home? Are there historical tidbits in your living room right now? Do you have a parlor? Do you know what happened to Rosa Canales? Am I getting carried away?” He made himself stop there, far too late to keep Benj from remembering how weird he was, too late to keep Benj from regretting inviting him over.

But Benj gave him that stunned, shining look from before, as if every word out of Jeremy’s mouth was a miracle.

“No,” Benj responded, his voice low but clear. “But I might if you go on like that.”

Jeremy had to remember they were in a semi-public place—and that he still hadn’t cleaned up from their first go round. He was sticky with seed and raw with beard burn. Benj’s hair was a mess from Jeremy’s hands. The second they walked outside, everyone was going to know what Jeremy had been doing with the Beast. Benj didn’t seem to mind. Without knowing him better, Jeremy would have said Benj was looking forward to it.

Jeremy was keeping him forever.

“Leland Barrett,” he whispered, his voice an eager, warm, library hush. “Please show me around this town, this library, your house, and you.” He paused. “And take your time. I want to know
everything
.”