"That's the second time you've invited yourself to my bed."
"It's about time you noticed." Then, calling upon all the restraint in the world, I peeled myself off Tom and returned to my post beside him at the counter. "If you don't give me something to do, I'm gonna keep pawing at things."At you."Put me to work."
With the reluctance of a true control freak, Tom assigned me the task of clearing the coffee table, setting out silverware, and filling water glasses while he warmed the dishes he'd brought with him. He ordered me out of the kitchen area, adding, "I hope you're not too religious about mixing your regions and cultures on the plate."
Again, I was at a loss but that wasn't slowing me down. "Not at all."
"Okay, good," he murmured, setting a pair of dishes on the table. "I know the whole ginger-garlic-lime thing doesn't technically line up with the kimchi thing but I'm working on adding more fermented foods to my diet this year." He unfolded a paper towel and spread it over his lap before glancing up at me. "I think it works well with the broccoli."
"Yeah, I get it. I'm not picky, but"—I shoved all the broccoli florets to the corner of my dish, the kimchi to the other, and forked up the salmon—"where is the rice?"
He spooned the sauce over his salmon. "What rice?"
Tom gestured for me to return the fish to my plate for its saucing. I did, saying, "You're supposed to have rice with salmon and broccoli. It's required."
His brows arched up. "According to…?"
"My mother. Martha Stewart. Mess halls everywhere. Probably the United States Department of Agriculture. You know, the basic tenets of well-rounded meals."
"I don't eat grains," he replied.
"And why is that?" He glared at me for a second as if I was the one being absurd in this conversation.
"Really?" he asked. Fully absurd. "Fine." Then he pushed up to his knees and yanked his vest and shirt up, freeing it from his trousers. "You want to know why? This is why. Bread and pasta haunt my dreams but I'm shredded."
The tail of his shirt gathered in his fist, he pointed at apristineset of washboard abs. Pristine verging on holy. I'd pray to those abs. Prayforthem. A fine trail of dark hair danced down the middle like an invitation. I had to adjust my jeans to keep my cock from strangling itself behind my belt. "I see."
"I've been off sugar and starches since I started training to climb the Seven Summits. Mostly."
He continued holding his clothes which bordered on entrapment. Honestly. It was like he expected me to sit here and be a good boy while he showed off his slim, sculpted torso. Like he didn't expect me to reach out, curl my hand around his belt, and drag him over here so I could lick that belly.
I'd already extended my arm when the words he'd lobbed at me like a water balloon exploded in my head. "Wait, you're climbing the Seven Summits? For real, you're going up Everest?"
He glanced down at my hand, the one hovering over his belt buckle. His lips parted. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. And then he looked up, meeting my stare. "Not Everest. If I make it to the end of a very, very long series of climbing goals, it'll probably be Denali. But yeah, maybe. Someday."
I closed the hand frozen between us into a fist before reaching for Tom's vest and shirt and smoothing them down over his belly. "Where have you climbed so far?"
He dropped onto his bottom and stretched his legs out beside me, crossing them at the ankle. "I've hit all the base camp climbs in the American Northwest. Olympus, Baker, Hood, Rainier, Shuksan. Glacier, Forbidden, and Pikes Peak. The Inca Trail and Machu Picchu. I went to Japan last summer to climb Fuji." He chased a floret of broccoli around the dish with his fork. "I have a long way to go before I'm ready for anything bigger."
"That's awesome." I shoved a forkful of fish into my mouth. "Really awesome."
He jerked a shoulder up in the international sign ofit's not a big deal. "It's the most random thing, actually. I'd never thought about climbing anything but then I saw this documentary—"
"You're into documentaries, then," I said, forgetting all my manners and interrupting the man.
"Yes." He speared some broccoli, dragged it through the puddle of sauce on his plate. "And podcasts and all those things old folks like yourself enjoy bagging on." He paused, presumably waiting for my rebuttal, but I only gestured for him to continue. "I saw a documentary about the environmental and economic impact of climbers on Everest and how it's a very lucrative business but much of the money spent on those expeditions isn't flowing back into the local economy. On top of that, there's a ton of garbage left behind by the expeditions and the risk of dying on the mountain is rather high."
"And naturally, your first inclination was to take up the sport."ThisI understood. "I like how you think."
"No, that's not how it went," Tom replied, a true smile splitting his face. God, he looked so young like that. Young and lovely and unscathed, as if he hadn't yet learned how shitty the world could be. "I was really intrigued by the whole thing and listened to a few podcasts and audio books. One of those books was a young adult novel—"
"And you're into young adult fiction," I said under my breath.
"—and the journey in that story was so beautiful and engaging, and I loved how the main character saw himself as part of the mountain's ecosystem rather than a force trying to best the mountain. That really clicked for me. I'm not trying to win at life, I'm just trying to live. You know?" I started to agree because I understood this too but he kept going. "After that, I wanted to see what it was about. I wanted to be part of the mountain and see what I could learn from it." He gave anotherno big dealshrug and ate the broccoli he'd tortured for the past few minutes. "Climbing and hiking are easy enough around here. The trails are forgiving and they don't require much more than insect repellant and sturdy running shoes. It didn't take long to work up to more challenging trails."
I leaned against the base of the sofa, using the nubby fabric there to ease the itch still terrorizing the middle of my back. "What's the next big climb you have planned?"
"I haven't finalized anything yet but I'm thinking about seeing the sights in Europe this summer and squeezing in climbs during that trip. If it all works out, I'd hit up Breithorn in Switzerland and Tofana di Rozes in northern Italy."
