“I haven’t been this hungry in ages,” he says, and I nod.
“Riding is hard work,” I agree.
We get one more load of water boiling on the fire before darkness truly descends, and I check the lines to make sure the horses are still secure. Marcos is seated by the fire, leaning back against one of the logs with his chin tipped up as he looks at the stars. I want him so fucking bad, it’s almost too much. This much love feels like pain, and I hardly know what to do with it. How the fuck do you know when the right time to tell someone you love them is?
20
Marcos
The sun has barely set,and the temperature has dropped noticeably. Nate had warned me it would be colder tonight than I’d expect for summer, and he’s already proving himself right. I stretch my legs out so they’re closer to the fire and look over at the sound of Nate approaching. He smiles softly, firelight dancing across his tan skin. The wood pops, sending sparks dancing upward.
“Can I?” he asks, pointing toward my legs.
“Of course.” I wait to see if he wants me to scoot over to make room for him, and huff a soft laugh when he nudges my legs apart so he can sit between them. When his back hits my chest, I grunt at the weight of him. He shimmies his hips as though settling in.
“Perfect,” he tells me. I put my arm around him, sliding a hand onto his stomach and leaning my cheek against the side of his head. He’s correct. This is perfect.
“You were right about the cold,” I comment. I’m warmer, now, with him sitting against me.
“Yeah, sometimes people end up miserable because they visit during the summer and aren’t expecting the low temps at night.”
“Animals won’t bother the horses tonight?”
“Nah. We leave horses out in the fields, and they’re always fine. Cats will sometimes try for a horse—same with wolves—but they figure out pretty quick a horse isn’t easy to take down. We keep the foals inside at night, and the herd protects them during the day.”
“Bears?”
“Mm, not really. Most predators try and pick out the weak or the young, but we keep those horses more shielded, so it’s not an issue. We’ve never lost a horse to a bear. Had one get swiped, once, but other than a cool scar, she was fine.”
“Hm.” I brush a hand across his stomach idly, eyes on the fire. After a couple passes, I slip that hand underneath his shirt and splay my fingers across warm skin. He sighs in contentment. “Nate?”
“Yeah?”
“I had an idea I wanted to run by you.” I pause, stroking my thumb across his belly and thinking. I only just had the idea last night, and I haven’t sat on it long enough to figure out how to word the offer. “You’ve got another year left of school, and me and Max have the apartment leased through December… I was thinking I could re-sign it and you could move in. If you wanted.”
Because my hand is flat on his stomach, I can feel the way his breathing stutters.
“What, live with you? Really?” he asks, and if it wasn’t for the excited tone of voice, I might be worried by that question.
“Yeah. It’s just an idea. I’m sure you like living with your friends?—”
“I’d like living with you more,” he interrupts. “I don’t think I can afford your apartment, though, Marcos. My parents only pay three hundred a month for me to live in the shared house, because it’s split so many ways. And hockey is already expensive. The only reason I was able to go to school in the first place was because I got some scholarship money and Uncle Jes helps pay for?—”
“Nate.” I give him a squeeze. “It’s okay. It was just an idea.”
“But…does that mean you’re going back to South Carolina in the fall? Even though you’re done with school?”
He sounds the way he did our first night here: wary and shy, like I’m making him nervous. Nate hasn’t ever made it a secret that he wants me and is invested in this relationship. Right from the beginning, I’ve been the one dragging their heels. It’s clear he’s not sure what it means for me to offer something like that.
“Yeah. I thought I could do another year in South Carolina with you, since Max and Luke will be busy in Detroit. I’ve already started looking for local jobs—people always need accountants.”
I slide my hand up his chest a little bit, surprised at how fast his heart is beating. Poor Nate—he’s probably been waiting for me to bring up my plans for next year, worried that I was going to leave him high and dry. I stroke my hand slowly down his stomach and back up, soothingly.
“I was sort of freaking out about the possibility of you going to Detroit,” he admits. “Truly, Marcos, I don’t think I can imagine a worse place to live.”
I smile into his hair. For someone like Nate, who thriveson being outdoors, he’s probably right. It would be a concrete prison.
“I’m sure it’s not so bad. It wasn’t Max’s first choice, certainly, but it’s not as though he was ever going to have a choice in who drafted him.”
