Dragging him up from the ground, I stick my finger in his face. “Shit. I’m sorry for hitting you. Genuinely. I—”
Nacho holds up his hands, still laughing. “Nah, I deserved it. Also, you were so mad you barely glanced me.”
“I’m mad because you can’t fucking talk about him like that. He’s been through too much for someone like you to think of him as your little plaything.”
Nacho, having ignored the lesson I just handed out, decides to keep taking his life into his own hands. “Ant’s been fucking his way through the Hill Country, Erik. He’s been plenty of people’s plaything.”
A rumble vibrates my chest as I poke Nacho’s slick, tattooed chest.
“Shutup. Sure, Ant goes off and has his no-strings fun, but that’s him taking his sexuality back. You and Bram, with your littledynamic,had better fucking stay away from him. Besides, wasn’t it you who was saying you two are crazy jealous for each other and couldn’t ever imagine another person in your bed?”
I shove him away from me and rip my stupid hat off my stupid head as I make room for Trip and his stupid earth-moving equipment. Nacho, the interfering jerk, follows me up the path toward the main house, still chirping at me.
“You know it’s not disrespectful to be sexually attracted to him, right? Like, you wanting to bone him is not the same as those who took advantage of him, right?”
God, this fanny pack makes me look like a middle-aged soccer dad. I rip it off and keep walking.
“It’s not wrong to be attracted to the things that also made him attractive to traffickers, friend. He’s small, you’re huge—the gay porn practically writes itself. You would never harm him or take advantage of him.”
I spin on him, practically clawing the air. “Which is why I’m keeping this to myself! He doesn’t need another person horn-dogging after him. He deserves to be treated like a human being.”
Nacho’s smile—even as he rubs his sore jaw—is a little too triumphant. “So youdothink about him that way.”
“I will fucking kill you, so help me, God.”
“You don’t believe in God. Besides, why’re you getting mad at me when you’re the one falling in love with the little guy?”
I eyeball his neck and wonder if I’d be forgiven for breaking it.
Probably not.
Instead, I step toward my stupid friend and tower over him, hissing, “Shut. Up.They are just flashes, random misfiring synapses. Means nothing. Sure, I’m a red-blooded guy. I see his pretty eyes and his pouty lips.”The dimples right above his bitable ass. “I know he’s beautiful. I can tell he wants someone to step in and take care of him.”
Nacho’s eyes soften, and it makes me want to hit him all over again.
“And you would love to take care of him, wouldn’t you?” he asks, rubbing his jaw as his mouth hooks into a grin. “I seem to remember you riding the line between soft top and controlling asshole all the way to the bank.”
I snarl at his characterization, and Nacho—either very brave or incredibly stupid—pats my shoulder. “All I’m saying is don’t be fooled by the walls he throws up. He’s surprisingly sensitive. Your job on this little road trip isn’t to protect him physically. It’s to protect his heart and his mind. Don’t step in if he’s struggling to take someone down. Step in if one of those guys starts putting him into that headspace.”
I grind my jaw. Letting Ant put himself in harm’s way instead of taking care of theselistassholes myself is driving me insane.
“Erik, promise me.”
“Yes, Nacho. Fine. If they fuck with his head, I fuck with them, and not in a way they’ll enjoy.”
“It’s killing you not to make things better for him, isn’t it?” he asks, a little too shrewd for my taste.
“So? Shut up about it,” I say, clamping my lips together when my Uncle Georg rounds the corner, buttoning his shirt.
“It’s a good thing you two are so loud. You nearly walked up on something you would not have recovered from,” he says, grinning.
Right on cue, my Aunt Anja rounds the corner, picking leaves out of her hair. “Ah, boys. Arguing over whether or not Erik will make a move on this big trip around the country. What odds do you have, Nacho?”
“My money’s on this one finally breaking down by New York. Fort Lauderdale and New Orleans are still on the table.”
“I’ve got Fort Lauderdale,” Georg says, reaching for his wallet. “What’s the buy-in?”
“Five dollars.”
