Fuck. No one trusted him to be a functioning adult. Even Josiah, who could be the King of Spacey, kept bugging him to make sure he had everything and insisted on double-checking the way the truck was loaded.
They put the cat cases in the rental truck’s front seat, right next to Pike. And three hours later, he was wishing he’d insisted the foul-tempered beasts ride with Josiah. Or on top of the truck. Heck, he wouldn’t be surprised if the surrounding traffic could hear them. Gizmo howled. Nectarine wailed, her plaintive meows making Pike grind his teeth. And that was with the special “relaxer” spray he’d spritzed their carriers with. By the time the GPS led them to a sleepy street close to the base, Pike was every bit as frantic as his cats.
Josiah had beaten him there by a few minutes, and he and Zack were waiting on the small cement slab porch. The house was a nondescript ranch of indeterminate age with weathered cream siding and a few straggly brown plants on the small lawn. A large Dumpster took up part of the driveway, necessitating careful parking on Pike’s part. With an audience. Fuck. He narrowly avoided clipping the Dumpster.
“Do you have a room we could shut the cats in?” Pike asked, too frazzled to greet them properly.
“Yeah. I got the laundry room ready, actually.” Zack opened the front door of the house while Pike brought the cat carriers in. “Figured the last thing we’d need is them escaping.”
“I’ll start with the boxes,” Josiah said.
Zack led Pike through an empty living room and empty dining room to a shabby kitchen with a mudroom off it. To Pike’s surprise, Zack even had a litter box waiting.
“Didn’t want any accidents.” Zack colored adorably when Pike stared at the little area Zack had made—he’d even put down a folded blanket and some water.
“Thanks.” Pike opened the carriers and left the cats to come out at their leisure. Gizmo bolted out while Nectarine cowered in her case. Gizmo, the traitor, wove his way between Zack’s legs, like Zack was their great savior.
“Guess he remembers you,” Pike said, and just like that, the memory of that night hung between them. The dancing. The kiss that could have been.
“You ever...” Zack started, then clamped his mouth shut.
“What?” Pike raised an eyebrow.
“That guy...” Zack waved his hand uncertainly. Then big bad SEAL took over, shoulders going stiffer than the ironing board attached the the laundry room wall, mouth narrowing to a thin, hard line. “Never mind.”
Oh Pike was so not dropping this. “Did Chris and I hook up later? Is that what you’re asking?”
Zack tugged his ear, the only crack in his formidable expression.
“Is there a planet where that’s your business?” Finished with the cats, Pike stood, pulling himself to his full height—not that it did much to make him equal to Zack, but he tried to make up for that with a killer glare. “Look. I’m beyond grateful for the place to stay. But who I sleep with, that’s my business—”
“Not here.” Zack met him glare for glare.
“Zack. I’m gay. G-A-Y,” he spelled out. Anger gave his words a bite, but at least part of that edge was frustration that no, he had not taken Chris up on his invitation to text. He hadn’t been able to think of him without Zack creeping into his thoughts, and it was Zack’s warm body and scent that dominated Pike’s memories. “I have gay sex. Whether I do it here or go back to someone else’s place, I’m still gay. And I’m not looking to hide that. Or have you vet my hookups. Not even for a sweet housing deal.”
If anything, seeing Zack again, all imposing, even in faded blue jeans and a T-shirt, made Pike more determined to get laid soon. He couldn’t keep mooning over Zack and his muscles and his glower.
“I know.” Zack grimaced, not backing down from the lethal expression. “And I’m not asking you to sign a celibacy promise. Just...be discreet.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Pike said honestly. He’d grown up in Berkeley to an uber-liberal single mom who greeted his ten-year-old crush on a Disney Channel hero with blanket acceptance. Unlike whatever game Zack was playing, Pike hadn’t even glimpsed a closet door his whole life.
“Try,” Zack growled. “I need—”
“Hey, guys,” Josiah called, “some people are here.”
Zack gave Pike one last censuring look before heading out of the room. Pike carefully shut the cats up—one of them getting out in a strange neighborhood was all this day needed. And fuck, why did even arguing with a guy who wanted him to “be discreet” twist him in knots? He should be angry, not mooning over the impossible.
* * *
Zack hurried back to the empty living room, Pike behind him, to find Josiah standing with Senior Chief Weber...and oh fuck. He’d brought his tweenage kid along. And Harper. Fuck. Harper might be his friend, but that didn’t mean Zack was ready for him to meet Pike.