I sat back on my heels. His pale skin gleamed under the lantern’s light. Suddenly my hand was reaching over—not far, the tent was cramped—and I ran a palm across his firm abs.
He stilled, his T-shirt rucked up over my hand. He breathed in, grabbed my lapels and pulled me close. Both of us were drunk, more than a little. Our lips crashed together.
It hurt, but it was a good hurt. Finally. Did it happen the way I’d fantasized? Not at all, but his lips were on mine, he was in my arms. I groaned, sliding my hands around his back under the damp cling of his shirt. The kiss melded from brutal to achingly soft. Sensual. His breath in my mouth. His heart beating against mine. I pressed in closer, feeling his desire between us.
We toppled against the tent wall, knocking over the battery lantern. Light flickered over the orange ceiling as we fumbled with clothing. Shrugging off my jacket, I yanked my shirt over my head and stared at him. His bare torso gleamed, Michelangelo’sDavidwould be jealous. A slight smattering ofgolden hair over his breastbone beckoned my touch. My hand slid lower, exploring the knob of scar tissue. Regge winced.
“Hurt?” I asked.
“Tickles.” His mouth found mine again. His hands worked at my zipper. We lowered onto sleeping bags, facing each other in the cramped space. I stopped his hands, unsure.
“Let me,” he said and went to work.
I gave in, but I couldn’t stop kissing him. His moan pulled me closer. The heat of his mouth cleared my head and intoxicated me at the same time. Soon he was down to his boxer briefs, the hot outline straining against the fabric. I groaned, leaning over him, rolling him to his back.
Then he went still. “Stop,” he said, pushing me up, his eyes wild.
I rolled away from him, stunned. “Reg? What’s the matter?”
Grabbing his jeans, he searched for the sweatshirt and pulled it on. He dove for the tent opening, fumbling and swearing at the zipper closure. Finally he unzipped it and left.
I pulled my jeans on and went after him.
He hadn’t gone far, across the camp to a tree, where he bent over, breathing hard. I didn’t say anything as I handed him his shoes.
He put them on, stomping his feet. “I needed some air.”
“Okay.” I waited until his breath evened out. “Hey, wait here a sec. I got an idea.” I went back to the tent and rolled up the sleeping bag, tucking it under my arm. “Let’s take a walk,” I said, holding out my hand. After a moment, Regge took it. We slipped through the small grove until we found a clearing at the lake’s edge.
To the south, a small dock jutted out, but here, there wasn’t much except tall grass and open sky. The moon had edged its way over the treetops on the far side of the lake. I killed thelight and spread the bag on the ground, lying back to face the stars.
Regge hesitated only a moment before joining me. We both snuggled together. For warmth.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry. You know I would never hurt you, right?”
“Yes. Of course. I panicked, I guess.”
“Like at the club?” I remembered his wild eyes as he’d pushed the other man away.
“The tent is too small. Closing in. Then you were on top of me and—”
“Ssh. It’s okay.” I reached down and took his hand. “Is this okay? I was moving too fast. I should have known—”
“No, HB. It’s not you. I am fucked up, that’s all.” He let out a frustrated breath.
“Reg. Everybody has shit in their past or something that screwed them up.” We fell quiet, breathing in the night air, feeling the stars. My voice was almost a whisper. “They don’t deal with half the crazy we do. I mean, for them, life is normal, right? They go to work, pay rent, get takeout ’cause they can’t afford the steakhouse, stream some crappy shows on TV, sleep if they’re lucky, get up and do it all over again. Normal.”
“It sounds quite boring,” Regge said, his voice low, matching mine. Neither of us wanted to disturb the night. “And also wonderful.”
I turned to look at him. “You want that? The everyday slog? Nothing to pursue or look forward to except more of the same.”
His profile gleamed in the silvery light. “Purpose is good, of course. But having someone alongside is… That makes everything worth the effort. Or more fun. The everyday slog, as you call it, is better when there’s someone to share it with. To eatthe Chinese food and watch crappy TV. That’s a glorious thing, Hunter.”
I dragged my eyes away and focused on the stars. They didn’t shine as brightly after looking at Regge. “Are you looking? For someone? I know the club scene may not be for you, but—never mind, it’s none of my business.”
“Why did we stop talking?” His tone ramped up a little. “I know that the whole moving out thing was sudden, but… I felt like I was a burden.”
