Utterly Forgettable | MM Romance | Complete

Thirteen: You Look Like A Drowned Rat

"Have you no concept at all of what an umbrella is?" Emery asked the moment Josh opened the door.

Josh dripped all over the doormat, taking off his boots and socks before walking in; his bare feet still left puddles in their wake. "I wasn't expecting it to rain," he replied, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

Despite being wet and miserable from the downpour, something inside him was warm at the sight of Emery marching into the bathroom and turning the hot water on, so it would actually be hot once Josh got in. These were the moments he was going to miss the most, when Emery left.

"You look like a drowned rat." Emery's words, on the other hand, could use some warming.

"Thank you, you're looking very sexy yourself," Josh quipped, getting rid of his jacket.

And then he froze.

Emery had paused too, face caught between stoicism and something else Josh couldn't quite name. Damn it. They had a habit of bantering, but this one had been crossing the line into dangerous territory. He couldn't tell whether Emery was stunned or annoyed but, whatever it was, Josh shouldn't have opened his mouth in the first place.

Emery swallowed, the first hint of movement since Josh's unfortunate remark. "I'll leave you to your shower. There'll be hot soup waiting when you're done."

He left without expecting a reply, which was just as well.

#

Sitting on the couch, warm and most definitely dry, Josh ate his soup with relish. "Thanks for this. I think even my bone marrow was freezing."

"Again," Emery replied, tone dryer than Josh's hair, "I feel it falls upon me to inform you that there are umbrellas you can make use of."

Josh's earlier comment seemed to have had no lasting effect, which was a bigger relief than Josh was ready to admit to. "I told you, I didn't think it would rain."

"And once you saw that it was, in fact, raining, you decided you'd run around with your arms open, head pointing towards the sky, in a celebratory tribal rain dance until you were sufficiently soaked through, rather than taking shelter?"

Josh choked on his soup with the laugh Emery startled out of him. "I didn't!" His eyes watered from coughing he couldn't get under control. "You're a health hazard, did you know?"

"Yes, both I and the rain," Emery replied without missing a beat, haughty and disapproving, and entirely too amused at Josh's expense. "Dare I ask what was worth catching pneumonia for?"

His smile remained, but Josh didn't feel like laughing anymore. He set down his plate to fiddle with the small wooden house in his bracelet. "I was at the cemetery. It didn't feel like I should leave to get an umbrella. It didn't look like it would rain when I went, or I'd have taken one with me."

Emery's face lost its mock stern look. "I... Forgive me. I didn't mean to pry."

"That's okay." Josh offered a smile. "I don't mind telling you, if you're curious. Don't get many chances to talk about it, really. But I don't want to dump my issues on you either."

Emery turned to face him head on, brown eyes tender. "I'd be interested in hearing whatever you're willing to tell me."

Somehow, Josh didn't doubt him. "Today is the anniversary of Ms. Winters' death. Twenty-five years. I usually go by the cemetery on the day, unless I'm working."

"Ms. Winters?" Emery picked up on the name.

"Yes. The neighbor who took me in after my parents kicked me out. She adopted me when I was eighteen — my parents wouldn't allow her to before that, for some obscure reason. I didn't know why she was so adamant about it, at the time, but I didn't question it. I'd grown to love her by then — she felt like the grandmother I'd never had." He smiled at the bittersweet memory.