“We haven’t even gone up the ridge yet,” said Marston as they took a well-needed break, sitting on large boulders overlooking the lake, at a place where the willows ended. “We might need a team, then.”
He looked at Kell, wiping dampness from his jaw where he’d taken a long drink of water, and seemed to be waiting for whatever Kell might reply.
“I think we could do it on our own,” said Kell. “But we might need help digging holes.”
Digging holes sounded like the least fun thing to do, and it’d be easier and go faster if they had more men doing the work.
“You’re right,” said Marston. “I’ll check with Gabe. See what we can set up.”
He began rolling up his trash, wrappers from granola bars, the core of an apple. When he flicked his gaze at Kell as he stood up and slid on his backpack, Kell saw something in those eyes he’d seen before, so fast, it was merely a glimmer that his body recognized even before his brain registered what it was.
His thighs tightened at the memory of that teammate and how he’d wanted to be near him all the time, wanted to reach out, to share the energy between them, to kiss. All of this now shifted, a huge weight he’d not known he’d been carrying, coming to the surface of his skin. The heat of desire, an unnamable longing. Blood racing up his thighs.
“Okay,” was just about all Kell could manage as he hefted on his backpack, and kept close at Marston’s heels as they made their way back down the willow path, counting pink flags as he went.
Chapter23
Kell
During dinner, the discussion about going swimming at the lake came up, even though Kell’d hoped it wouldn’t. But it was too hot for a bonfire, and the idea of swimming was novel enough that any hopes he had of swimming alone with Marston were dashed.
“I don’t have any swim trunks,” said Royce, frowning.
Jonah just laughed and clapped him on the back. “You’ll benaked!” he said, which made everyone roar.
“We can wait till it gets a little darker and you can keep your underwear on,” said Gabe, though Kell could see he was trying to hide his smile at Royce’s modesty.
Kell had been naked in front of other men in the prison shower, but Bede had been with him then, making him feel safe. He felt that same way with Marston, even more so, perhaps, so he wasn’t at all worried—or maybe a little, so he’d keep his briefs on in the water until he felt more comfortable.
As for Marston—
Kell leaned close, almost rubbing his cheek on Marston’s shoulder, feeling bold and shy all at once.
“It’ll be fun, right?” he asked, so only Marston could hear him.
Without seeming to move a muscle, without a heartbeat of hesitation, Marston replied, “I’d rather it was just us two.”
Then he leaned away as if his attention was focused on needing the salt or the butter, anything but what he’d just said, but which had Kell’s heart growing warm. His face felt hot. Surely this wasn’t happening to him? Was it just another crush, like he’d had in the old, old days before he’d grown wise on the road and learned to keep his mouth shut?
But in that moment, he didn’t want to be wise. He wanted to be wild. Wanted to hook his fingers around Marston’s arm and tug and sayHey, as if the only thing that mattered was that Marston’s attention was focused on him, rather than on everything else. Everyone else.
What the fuck was happening to him? He hardly knew, only that what he was feeling was the closest thing he’d felt in two long years to the joyous hope in a glossy-floored corridor in high school as he imagined what he might say and how he might say it to his teammate. And what his team mate might say in response when he did.
That joy. That sense of buoyancy, so long missed, now bubbled up inside of him, lifting him up.
The evening’s swim loomed, making him slightly anxious and tender and vulnerable and excited, all at once. Mixing together, on the verge of feeling like he did when he got into a stranger’s car on the highway after holding his thumb out for an hour. An eternity. Would this next driver be a serial killer? Or would Kell make it okay to his next destination? The only way to find out was to get in.
After dinner, a few of the guys went off together, and though Kell could hear the sounds of their roughhousing, he couldn’t imagine why they would want to get even more hot and sweaty before the swim. Or maybe they had the right idea, because the cool water would feel even more amazing.
As he walked to his tent, his head was on a swivel as he looked for Marston, who, naturally, was nowhere to be found.
Maybe he was headed to his tent to look for his newest underwear the way Kell was now, pawing through his cardboard box. Or maybe Marston would be bold, and just strip to the skin and, at that moment, where was Kell supposed to look?
With a small huff of a laugh, he sat on his cot and planted his elbows on his knees and made a list of who would show up and swim in their underwear or briefs or whatever, and who would skinny dip from the get go. It was better than the alternative, which was to angst over what Marston would make of Kell, naked with a farmer’s tan, belt scars on his back, and not nearly enough muscle in comparison to everyone else.
But when he started thinking about it, the only one who might be shy was Royce, since he was so fussy, so clean, all of the time. Nobody else would give a damn and it’d be one big swimming hole full of naked men. Naked men and Kell, trying to keep his eyes from devouring every inch of Marston’s skin, his long legs, those shoulders, all the while looking for a hint of a smile.
When twilight began to settle in, velvet among the trees, soft against the narrowing shafts of sunlight, it hadn’t grown any cooler, and there was sweat on the back of Kell’s neck as he stripped, put on his cleanest underwear and got dressed again.
