“What do you want?”

Eli’s angry words knocked me out of my shock.

He’d been thirteen the last time we’d spoken, and the man in front of me was a far cry from the kid I’d known.

Eli had always had a delicate look about him. He’d been small for his age, and with his dark blond hair and big green eyes, he’d reminded me of those paintings of cherubs from back in the day.

The hair and eyes hadn’t changed, but he’d filled out over the years. He was only half a head shorter than me and probably stood at five nine or five ten now. His baggy clothes hung off a slender frame, and his plush lips were twisted up in a scowl.

Thirteen-year-old Eli had been a cute kid who’d looked at me like I was a superhero. Twenty-year-old Eli was a breathtakingly beautiful man who looked at me like I was dog shit he’d stepped in.

“Well?” He glowered at me. “I’m waiting for someone. State your business and go away.”

“I’m here to look at the hot water tank.”

His jaw dropped. “You?”

I nodded.

“What happened to Mr. Culligan?”

“He retired.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Your family owns this house.” He uncrossed, then crossed his arms again. “Of course you do.”

“Can I come in and see the water tank?”

He stepped aside and swept out his arm dramatically. “It’s not like I can stop you, since you own it.”

“My father’s company owns it. I don’t own anything.” I came into the house and closed the door behind me.

He snort-laughed. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

“When did you notice the problem?” I asked as we made our way to the laundry room at the back of the house.

“Right before my roommate called you.”

“What time was that? They called the answering service, not me.”

“Too good to give your number to your subjects, Sire?” he muttered behind me.

“I’m only trying to get a timeline so I can figure out what’s going on.”

“It’s been about an hour,” he said grudgingly.

“The message said the hot water isn’t working.” I unlocked the door to the small closet that housed the unit and flipped on the light.

Nothing was outwardly wrong. Not that I could see at least.

“One minute, the water was fine. Then it went ice cold and hasn’t warmed up since.”

“Was it a gradual change?” I crouched next to the tank and checked it was still on. “Or was it an instant one?”

“Gradual, but a quick one. I was in the shower for less than two minutes before it went from hot to freezing.”

A vision of Eli in the shower, water cascading down his smooth skin as he soaped up his chest, flashed in my mind. I shoved that visual aside and unzipped the bag I’d brought with me. Now was not the time to be picturing Eli naked and soapy.

Hell, he’d probably kick me in the nuts if he knew I’d thought about him that way at all.

“Have you noticed anything off about the hot water in the last few days or weeks?” I pulled out a multimeter and adjusted the settings on it.

“It’s been off for weeks. Some days it’s fine. Other days it runs out fast.” He crouched next to me and peered into my bag. “Are you testing the elements?”

“I am.” I smiled despite myself. Curiosity had always won out over anger when he was a kid. It was nice to see some things didn’t change.

“Are you going to calibrate your meter?”

“I was just about to. Can you flip off the power supply so I don’t get zapped?”

He nodded and stood. I tried not to watch him, but my eyes were drawn to the slight sway in his hips and the soft, floaty way he walked.

I’d noticed it when he was a kid too. Eli moved like he was trying not to make any noise. The swing in his hips was new.

Clearing my throat, I focused on calibrating the meter so I didn’t think about his tight, firm ass or his slim legs.

“Done.” He crouched next to me again.

“Want to do the test after I get the element exposed?”

“Sure.” He picked up the meter. “Are you testing the bottom element first?”

“Yup.”

“Because the bottom one usually goes first? The water here isn’t especially hard, so it probably isn’t sediment causing the issues. Do you think one of the elements has lost continuity?”

“That would be my guess.” I undid the access panel and pulled it off.

He handed me a length of electrical tape. I secured the strip of insulation covering the element to the tank, popped off the protective cover, and detached the power wires.

“All set.” I glanced at him, and my breath caught in my throat.

He’d moved closer so he could see into the small panel. He wasn’t scowling anymore, and his curious expression only highlighted his ridiculous good looks.

I focused on the job at hand and not on the gorgeous guy next to me.

He touched the leads to the terminals on the element.

“Twelve.” He pulled the leads away. “So it’s not that one.”

“That’s a relief. It’s infinitely easier to replace the top one.”

“Infinitely?” A small smile quirked the corner of his lips. “A bit of a dramatic word choice, don’t you think?”

I chuckled and replaced the pieces on the panel. “Maybe a bit dramatic. But it is easier to only have to do the top one.”

“But you haven’t established it’s the problem yet.”

“That’s true.” I stood. “But it’s a logical conclusion. There are two elements. The bottom one is fine. That leaves the top one.”

“But how do you know for sure it’s the elements when you’ve only tested one? They’re the most obvious reason why the tank might not be working, but not the only ones.”

“Touché.” I unscrewed the other access panel.

“I’ve always thought it’s funny we use a French term from fencing to say someone has a good point,” he mused.

“You could say a discussion is like verbal fencing. You’re both making points to sway the other.”

“Yes, but I usually don’t try to stab my discussion partners with a sword while I discuss things.” His eyes glittered.

“That’s why I said verbal equivalent.” His smile and the lightness in his features and eyes made something deep inside me ache.

“Touché.” He shot me a playful grin.

“Language is interesting.” I focused my attention on the water tank. “I wonder how long it’s been part of our vernacular.”

“Since 1902. That’s when it was first recorded.”

I smiled, not surprised he knew that off the top of his head.

“And vernacular? Aren’t you the guy who called a protractor a half moon measuring thingy? Since when do you know big words?”

“A lot can change in six years.”

His eyes went from curious to cold, and his features tightened again. “Maybe. But some things never do.”

Shit. That had been the wrong thing to say.

We tested the other element in silence. Eli didn’t bother telling me the reading and stuck the meter under my nose. It was at zero.

“I’ll get a replacement element and get in touch with our plumber.” I replaced the pieces of the panel.

“Fine. When can we expect it to be fixed?”

“I’ll have to double-check with Phil, but most likely before dinner tomorrow. I’ll let you know when I have a time frame so someone can be home when we need to get in.”

“Contact one of my roommates. I’m busy tomorrow.” He stood and crossed his arms over his chest as I cleaned up my tools.

“I meant that as a general you, like all of you, but sure. I’ll let your roommates know. Can you turn the power back on?”

He leveled a glare at me but did as I asked. I locked the door, and when I turned around, he was leaning against the washing machine.

“You know the way out,” he said, his eyes on the floor between us.

I wanted to say it was nice to see him again, to ask how he’d been. To explain what had happened six years ago. Something to try and get back the easy conversation we’d fallen into before I’d opened my big mouth and reminded him of our past.

Instead, I left.

I’d parked the company truck on the next block because there hadn’t been any spots near the house. Now I was glad for the walk.

Of all the people I could have seen at one of my dad’s properties, Eli hadn’t even been on my radar.

For one, I’d never expected him to still be here. I’d thought he would have gotten out of this town. He’d been on track to graduate at fifteen. Why hadn’t some Ivy League school snapped him up?

Was he a grad student? That made even less sense. Rutherford was a good school with a solid academic reputation and surprisingly competitive sports teams, but it wasn’t anything special. Why would he stay here?

When I got to the truck, I shifted the bag on my shoulder and dug my keys out of my jacket. This was a small town, and I’d been back for five months. I’d managed to avoid running into anyone I knew by keeping close to the school and driving to the city when I needed anything, but it couldn’t last forever.

Hopefully, I didn’t run into Gray. If I thought things with Eli were complicated, they had nothing on what was between me and his older brother.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I dropped the pen I’d been hitting against the side of my desk and closed my hand over the lid of my laptop, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull it down.

I shouldn’t do this.

“Fuck it.” I grabbed my phone and searched for the tweet that had me all in knots.

BaileyB: join me at 8 p.m. Eastern for a fun show and a big announcement!

The tweet had a link to his cam channel and a photo of his ass encased in a pair of sheer green briefs that left nothing to the imagination.

I’d stumbled on his channel just over six months ago when I’d logged on to the cam site and seen his familiar face smiling back at me from a thumbnail on the solo male cam page.

I’d stared at his photo for a long-ass time, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that Eli, sweet and cherubic Eli, was a cam model.

My first reaction had been shock. Not because he’d chosen to cam, but because in my mind, he was still that kid I’d known all those years ago.

Seeing him now as an adult had been disorienting, and a million questions had rolled through my head as I’d stared at my screen.

Once the shock had worn off, the fascination had set in. The kid I’d known hadn’t had any interest in sports or fitness, preferring to read and learn everything he could about whatever happened to catch his attention.

That had obviously changed. He’d always been slender, but now he was cut. Not ripped or anything, but his muscles were lean and defined.

Why the fuck was his tweet bugging me? He wasn’t active on Twitter like a lot of models were, only using it to promote his shows or when he had new content for sale. Nothing about the tweet was unusual.

Was it the announcement?

“Ugh.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. I should go for a drive or something.

I’d never watched one of his shows or bought any of his content. Not because I didn’t want to, but because it felt like a violation.

I wasn’t ashamed that I enjoyed watching cam models, and I didn’t think less of Eli for being one. It was more that I didn’t feel like I had the right to watch him.

Especially after yesterday. I’d hoped his anger toward me might have cooled to a strong dislike, but the fire in his eyes as he glared at me had proven that wasn’t the case.

Did I have this insane urge to watch his show because I’d seen him yesterday? Was my subconscious trying to replace reasons to justify my attraction to him?

From his bio on the cam site, I knew Eli was bisexual, and I hated the flicker of hope that sparked deep in my chest.

This was so fucked up. For six months, he’d been an image on a screen. A reminder that the kid I’d known was all grown up. I’d been able to tell myself my interest in him was natural. That it had nothing to do with my attraction to him and everything to do with being curious about someone I used to know.

Yesterday had changed things. Now he wasn’t just a pretty face on my screen. He was a real person filled with snark and fire and that innate curiosity that made him who he was. He might have changed physically, but his energy hadn’t.

He felt the same, which was asinine to even think. I might have known him six years ago, but I had no idea who he was now.

I glanced at the time. His show had started.

Now was the perfect time to shut my laptop down and go for a drive. But instead of getting my ass up and walking away from my desk, I clicked my bookmarks and opened the link to his cam room.

One time wouldn’t hurt, right?

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