Regge laughed. It was a sound that echoed through the trees and straight into my psyche. He put the metal grill over the coals and stood up, dusting off his jeans. “This is luxury—a stone pit for the fire, a grate to cook over, meat from the shop, seasonings at our whim—it’s far different from skinning a critter and skewering him over a fire.” He sat in the camp chair next to mine. I handed him a beer. “A street rat like me never got out in the country.” He gestured to the woods around us. “Nature and fresh air and all that was never part of my world until I met Theo. He literally made me go out and kill a rabbit, dress it out, and cook it.”
“Ew.” I grimaced.
Regge shrugged. “He wanted to make sure I knew how to take care of myself no matter where life took me.”
“He did a credible job, I suppose, considering what he had to work with.”
“Hey.” Regge slapped the back of his hand on my leg. His grin was contagious.
I rubbed my thigh. “Here you are, five hundred years in the future, cooking store-bought steaks over a campfire started with a Bic and some lighter fluid.” We sat companionably for a few moments, looking into the flames.
I thought back to Derek’s strange ability. Conjuring a memory so strong it felt like yesterday instead of months ago. And the feelings with it. I was certain I felt Regge’s emotions and my own. Had he panicked? In the club, with that guy?
“Can we talk about what happened? When Derek tapped our memories?”
Regge shrugged. “What about it?”
“I felt your panic. It was so real. I mean, I knew you had a touch of claustrophobia. But was it something else?”
“I felt you too. I’m sorry I hurt you, Hunter.”
“It was just— Look, we’d been building up to something, right? It wasn’t just me, was it?”
Regge shook his head. “No, it wasn’t just you.”
“And outside the club you said that you weren’t ready for anything. Because of Charlie. I got that. I really got that, Reg. But then inside, you’re a second away from letting some asshole blow you while I’m fetching the next goddamn round.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Looked like it.”
“Sod it all. You left me. In a club full of handsy men and I had never been in such clamor. I looked for you.”
“Where? Inside his mouth?”
“I said I was sorry.” Regge sighed and finished his beer. “I’m going to put the steaks on.”
I watched him bustle around our tiny campsite. Well, this was going well so far. Neither of us had talked much about the instructions on Nigel’s list. It wasn’t a big deal. We were both adults, could keep it casual and remain friends. Right?
I pressed on. “I’m saying I’m here if you want to talk—”
“I don’t. It’s in the past, and there’s no point.” He focused on his task. “Let me know when six minutes are up, okay? I’ll turn them.”
I hummed and checked my internal clock. The clock was always running, ticking down events and items I needed to remember.
Today it was the number of days I had until I went back to work: three. The hours until moonrise: four. The time we had until renovations could be started on the hotel: unknown, but I guessed two months. Steak: six, no, five minutes now. I rose and got another beer. We should have brought a twelve pack.
Turns out, Regge had that covered. After dinner, which was perfectly cooked steaks and baked potatoes with both sour cream and butter, he brought out dessert. A box of vanilla wafers and a fifth of good whiskey. I was not a whiskey drinker usually, but a full belly and the warmth of the whiskey had helped ease the previous tension.
I glanced at his profile in the firelight. The slightly up-turned nose, full lips that were so expressive. I had no qualms about my desire, but I’d jumped in with both feet before. Regge had been new to the club scene—to modern gay relationships altogether.
Derek’s little spell reminded us of how we felt. Regge felt lost, confused, and then panicked as the guy pressed him against the wall. I saw that now.
But this was now. And it would change things. At least for me. No stranger to casual sex, I could hook up with a random guy off Grindr and go on about my day. But this was Regge. And I didn’t know how he felt—about anything. I needed to get drunk. Like right now. I found that paired with the sweet cookies, the whiskey went down pretty damn smooth.
The moon had risen, but neither of us moved from the fire. We had all night, really. The cold air sent a shiver through my canvas jacket. This time of year wasn’t ideal for camping, and we had the place pretty much to ourselves. Eventually Regge doused the fire and stumbled into the tent. I picked up the whiskey bottle and found only an inch sloshing around the bottom. I set it down.
Crawling into the tent, I switched on the tiny camp light. Regge was pulling a sweatshirt off.
