“Oh my god.” I snort, shaking my head. The shower turns off. “What are you and Luke doing?”
“He’s at work right now, so I’ll head that way shortly.” I nod even though he can’t see me, unsurprised by this answer. There is rarely a night when Luke is at the diner that Max isn’t sitting in one of the booths. “And tomorrow we’re actually going to the beach.”
“That’ll be fun.”
“Not as much fun as petting a baby horse, but.” Another sigh, this one a touch more dramatic as he plays it up a bit. Nate walks back into the room, scrubbing a towel vigorously over his head and grinning at me. He’s not wearing a shirt, and his farmer’s tan has grown exponentially after our day spent in the sun.
“Max,” I explain, pointing to the phone held to my ear.
“Hi, Max,” he shouts.
“Put me on speaker,” Max requests. I place the phone on the counter and dutifully hit the speaker phone. “Nate, send me a picture of Marcos on the horse.”
“Sure.” Nate leans a hip on the counter next to me, heat radiating off his skin from the shower as he scrolls through his pictures, looking for one to share. I can see the sheen of moisture on his stomach where he didn’t quite get himself dry. Swallowing, I look away and focus on my soup. “Just sent you a couple.”
Max makes a strangled noise, and mumbles something about wanting to show Luke.
“I truly cannot believe you got Marcos to do that.”
“Marcos can’t believe it, either,” I agree. Nate nudges my leg until I move it over enough for him to lean against me, half sitting in my lap. This close, I can smell the fruity scent of his soap.
“You’ll have to come out, sometime,” he offers, leaning back into my chest. I wrap an arm around him, feeling a slight squirm of discomfort at the feel of moisture on his skin, but also feeling like I’m able to work past it.
“What, like come visit? Seriously? We’d—I’d love to,” Max agrees.
“Plenty of room for both of you,” Nate tells him, and Ismile into his shoulder. It didn’t take him long to figure out Max and Luke come packaged as a single entity.
“It’ll be like a cowboy couples retreat,” Nate jokes.
This makes Max snort so forcefully, it turns into a coughing fit. Nate looks at me and I shake my head in bemusement. Likely an inside joke with Luke that we’re not privy to.
Nate moves his hips as though trying to find a comfortable position, and I wince as his butt bone digs into my leg. He drops his head to the side, leaning his face against mine, and I close my eyes. God, I love him.
“I better let you guys go, though,” Max says on a groan. I smile, picturing the way he stretches one arm over his head and arches his back when he stands. “I told Luke I’d be at the diner by six, and if I’m late, he gets in a panic.”
I have never related to Luke Kelly more. “Yeah, you should go, then. Say hi from us.”
“Oh, that reminds me though. Nate, Luke wants your number. He keeps telling me you guys are best friends now after we went bowling.”
“We are,” Nate agrees stoutly.
“Best friends who don’t have each other’s numbers,” I note, and he shifts in retaliation, digging his butt bone further into my thigh.
“Give him my number,” Nate tells Max.
“Cool. Okay, well, I’ll talk to you guys later. Say hi to Tuna Fish from me.”
Max hangs up, and I wait for Nate to get off me. Instead, he leans forward and opens his mouth expectantly, waiting for me to give him a spoonful of soup. Huffing a laugh, I feed him some and he sits back again on a satisfied sigh.
“How do you feel about a blowjob,” he offers casually,rolling his head over to lean against mine once more. I balance my chin on his shoulder, and think about it.
Unfortunately, the way his skin feels against mine is bordering on uncomfortable right now, and I don’t particularly want to see how far I can push that.
“Not tonight, I don’t think.”
He sits up immediately, breaking all contact as though he read my thoughts. I open my mouth to apologize, but there is a smile on his face and he doesn’t look as though my rejection bothers him. They haven’t yet, but each one terrifies me anew. There very well may come a day when he gets sick of hearing the word no.
“Let’s have a date instead,” he tells me, as though this was what he’d been hoping for all along. I stand up and bring my bowl over to the sink to rinse.
