“It wouldn’t be the first time we rode it together.”
Chase kept telling himselfno, no, no. It was wrong. Inappropriate. Unfair, even, to do that to Mason. But a selfish part of him, the part of him that was tired of doing what he was supposed to do—what he was expected to do—wanted it so badly. He wanted to take it out for a whirl with his Mason like the days when nothing mattered but what they felt for each other and how deeply they felt it.
“Let’s do it,” Chase said, denying the inner wisdom that warred against the idea.
He’d already given up on happiness once, and he wasn’t going to do it again if he had a chance at getting it back—even if that was just for a moment.
Mason started to get on the four-wheeler when Chase said, “Uh-uh. I’m gonna drive.”
Mason stepped aside as Chase hopped on. Mason slid on behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, holding him tightly as ever.
Chase felt that safe feeling return, like the very first time they ever rode together, and he allowed himself to slip back in time to cold nights when they would cuddle and he couldn’t imagine a life without Mason’s arms around him. He missed those days. He missed them so much, he felt a pain in his chest—like a knife twisting.
Mason’s body tight against his, firm as ever, reminded Chase of how he envied Mason’s strength—mentally and physically.
Chase twisted and snatched Mason’s hat off his head and put it on before they buckled in. Soon they were off, Chase glancing back at Mercy and Louise, who watched from where they were tied up.
Chase felt that same rush of adrenaline pulsing through his body as he had when he was a kid. He zipped along the path, enjoying the scenery—how everything had changed and evolved, and watching the different wildlife he stirred up as he sped along.
As Chase came to bumps in the path, he slammed his foot down on the accelerator.
“Oh, look who wants a bumpy ride now,” Mason teased.
“You know I always enjoyed the bumps.”
Chase hadn’t started off loving them, not the way Mason had. But years with him had made that a part of his four-wheeling experience, and it was one of the things he missed most. The challenge, the fear, the thrill.
Chase accelerated so as they hit the bumps, they soared even higher, both of them screaming out.
For a moment, he transcended his age and the responsibility he associated with being in his thirties.
He wasn’t a man right then, just a teenager, goofing off with his guy.
He hit another bump, climbing high before the four-wheeler descended into a puddle of water.
It was deep, much deeper than it looked. As the front wheels hit it, mud flew through the air, slamming into the windshield and coming around the sides, spraying across Chase’s face.
“Shit!” Chase called out as his tension returned.
It shook him out of his fantasy, pulled him back into reality.
Because he wasn’t a teenager anymore. What was he doing—a full-grown adult—riding around recklessly on a four-wheeler?
He pulled off to the side of the path beside the pond and got off.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
“It’s all good.” Mason laughed, but it didn’t ease the discomfort within Chase, who glanced over his clothes, stained with mud. They weren’t his good ones, but it’d been a long time since he’d ruined a pair of clothes like that.
Mason got off the four-wheeler and headed toward the pond.
“Where are you going?” Chase asked.
And seeing Mason and the pond like that brought all those memories back to him…memories of when they had splashed around and jumped off the steep drop on the other side. That was back when their relationship was still a secret. It was when they learned their ways around each other’s bodies and figured out just how good bodies could feel together.
It was a time when Chase didn’t worry about getting dirty or wet. If anything, that was part of the thrill of it all, because the world was fine as long as they were together.
“Let’s clean off,” Mason suggested. He kicked off his shoes, then grabbed the hem of his mud-splattered shirt and removed it, his back muscles tense, stressing the definition.
