Page 13 of Love at First Rep

“Apparently,” he said, stabbing a bite of egg and shoving it in his mouth.

“Shit, Gar, that’s tough. Twenty years. Where has he been this whole time?”

Garrett bobbed his head as he considered how to answer. “Let’s say cop stuff.”

Hunter nodded. “Is this cop stuff—that I assume he’s involved you in—is it safe? Can you trust him?”

The egg in his mouth turned to ash as Garrett considered the truth.

“The Rafe from twenty years ago was someone I could trust with my life, but the detective in me is saying I can’t know for sure. I don’t— Is it wrong to feel bad about that?”

Hunter spoke through the half-chewed pancake in his mouth. “No way. You know you can trust your cop instincts, and if they’re telling you to be careful, then I think you should listen.” He put down his fork to rest his hand on Garrett’s and give it a squeeze. “There’s nothing wrong with protecting yourself here. Especially if he’s no longer the Rafe you knew, he won’t be just a random criminal you need to take down. Not when your heart is involved. That’s worth protecting.”

Hunter took his hand back so he could keep eating. Not much could stand between him and food.

“Thanks, I think I needed to hear that.”

“Do you think he knows you’re pan?”

“Nah, I doubt it. How would he know?” Garrett said, but then he remembered Rafe’s messages from over the last twenty years. He’d obviously been around if he could tie threads to his property or leave sour candies in his mailbox. Could he be sure that Rafe hadn’t been watching his every move? He’d brought all different genders home with him. How close had Rafe been?

Fuck. Only one person could answer those questions, and Garrett was going to get those answers today, whether Rafe was ready or not.

6

RAFE PACED IN GARRETT’S living room, waiting for him to return home.

It was a bad idea to follow him earlier, but he couldn’t help it. Old habits died hard, apparently.

He didn’t expect to see him holding hands over breakfast with a guy who could be Chris Hemsworth’s stunt double.

Hunter Dobbs was a high school athletic trainer that went to the same morning gym class Garrett attended nearly every day. The few times Rafe saw them together, it had looked friendly, but this seemed different. The sight stung, and Rafe had to turn away, rushing back to Garrett’s place to think. Was there a chance Rafe finally made it home to Garrett only to find him involved with someone else? During their time apart, Rafe had never seen him seriously date anyone, but he had seen him enjoy the occasional hookup.

Men, women, non-binary, it didn’t matter for Garrett. He was indiscriminate when it came to gender. While it made Rafe happy to see his friend living his life openly, it stung to know he’d moved on with other people, but he could understand. Hiding in the military hadn’t been fun, and it must have only gotten harder for Garrett once Rafe left.

When Garrett left for work the previous morning, Rafe spent the day invading his privacy, trying to get a handle on the forty-year-old version of Garrett.

From what he could tell, not much had changed. Garrett was still neat and tidy, his bedsheets folded so perfectly their staff sergeant would have wept with pride.

He paused in his pacing when a car pulled up outside, and he checked his phone to see Garrett’s in the driveway.

Rafe installed the hidden cameras while Garrett was at work. If this whole thing went downhill, he needed to keep Garrett safe.

A moment later, the front door’s deadbolt slid and the door flew open. He wasn’t sure if the chill against his skin came from a breeze outside or the way Garrett stared at him.

Rafe wore sweats and a hoodie, not having the energy for much more this morning. His jet lag hit him like an anvil when he laid down for a nap yesterday afternoon, not waking until he heard the front door open and close as Garrett headed to the gym. He still couldn’t believe he’d slept so long and missed the opportunity to hang out with Garrett the night before. Typically, his insomnia kept him awake, but not last night. It was like his body knew he’d be safe under Garrett’s roof. He only hoped it would stay that way.

Without taking his eyes off Rafe, Garrett slipped his shoes off onto the mat by the front door and hung his coat and beanie in the closet. He wore a long-sleeved tee and loose sweats, his hair damp from his workout. Rafe couldn’t help checking him out.

“You’re awake,” he finally said, and Rafe took a deep breath.

“Yup. Sorry I passed out last night. Jet lag must have caught up with me.”

“Right. Because you were coming from…?”

Garrett trailed off, waiting for Rafe to finish his sentence.

“Europe. I came from Europe. I would have come sooner, but I got stuck there for a couple jobs before I could make my way to you— Uh, to Cherrywood.”