Finally arriving at his place—hoping Calvin wouldn’t notice the sad state the house was in—Brock shut off the engine. Thankfully Calvin kept any opinions to himself. Letting them both inside, Brock was grateful he’d picked up the place the night before in hopes Calvin would be coming over. And thanks to Calvin, Brock had been able to afford a new pump for the washing machine, so had managed to reduce the mountain of dirty laundry. The rest was firmly squashed into the hamper and the lid tightly closed.
“Are you going to take off that hat?” Brock asked.
“Only if you’ll model it for me.” Calvin took the hat off, reached up, and put it on Brock’s head. Stepping back, Calvin clapped his hands. “Oh. My. God.”
Brock felt himself grin.
Calvin ran his hands down Brock’s bare arms. Brock knew
