We lie together for a few more minutes, but as our bodies cool down, we both start feeling the cold. “Should we clean up out here and go inside?” He asks, and I nod.
We put the cover back on the hot tub, grab the pile of wet towels, and close up the room. Slipping into our identical fuzzy robes and slippers, he leans in to kiss me. “I’m going to shower and then I’m going to hit the sack, if that’s okay with you?” he asks, searching my eyes. He doesn’t invite me to shower with him, or show any sign that he wants to sleep together, so I paste a lazy grin on my face to hide the twinge of disappointment that slices through me.
“I’m going to do the same. It’s getting late. I’ll see you in the morning.” I wink at him, and he smiles.
“Sleep well, Matthew. I know I will.” Before I can walk away, he reaches out and kisses me softly. No tongue, just a sweet, gentle goodnight kiss.
Bringing my fingertips to my lips, I can still feel his kiss when I step into the shower a few minutes later.
I don’t know where this is going to go. I just hope I’ll be ready to deal with whatever the fallout is when it comes to an end.
Chapter 12
CASE
Thebedroomiscold,and the wind gusts are so strong I can feel the house shiver as they buffet the cabin, but underneath the cozy quilt I’m toasty warm. Last night, I was sure my decision to sleep alone was the best choice after the earth-shattering encounter with Matt in the hot tub. I wanted to make sure we didn’t cross any lines, clarifying that this is just an extended hookup, nothing else. But this morning I’m wishing he was here beside me so I could pull his warm body against mine and rub up against him. Unfortunately, nature doesn’t seem to care how comfortable this bed is, or how pleasurable my fantasy about Matt will be, because my bladder is complaining loudly. Sighing, I throw back the quilt and roll out of bed.
After I’m done in the bathroom, I take a peek out the window, and am stunned at the amount of snow that’s already on the ground while it continues to fall hard and fast. Every once in a while, the howling wind lifts swirls of the white powder into the air, making it jump and twirl like a ballet dancer.
The thick, white blanket covers everything, softening all the edges and blending everything together so it’s hard to distinguish one lump from another.
My stomach lets out an aggravated growl, so I throw on an old pair of track pants and a warm sweatshirt, and head to the living room. The scene outside the big picture windows is much the same as from my bedroom, cold and gray but strangely beautiful.
Once I get a fire started, I go to the kitchen and check out the fridge, which is bursting with food. Matt was not kidding when he said he brought enough stuff for a month.
I find eggs and a package of bacon, and then search around for bowls and frying pans.
The bacon is sizzling and I’m starting on the eggs when I hear a startled noise from behind me. Turning around, I find Matt standing at the edge of the kitchen, looking adorably bleary-eyed, his hair sticking up at an odd angle.
“You made breakfast?” he says through a yawn, rubbing his eyes like a little kid.
“I figured since you’ve been kind enough to let me crash your vacation, I could at least thank you with breakfast.” I grin at him. “Well, that and I was freaking starving.”
He chuckles in response, stepping toward the coffee machine and grabbing the mug I’d set out for him.
After doctoring up his coffee with the vanilla creamer I found in the fridge, he takes a seat at the kitchen island and we’re silent as the eggs cook and he downs his caffeine. As soon as the eggs are done, I slide his plate over to him and take a seat beside him with my own.
“This is delicious,” Matt says a few minutes later. “Thanks for cooking. If there was one thing didn’t expect on this trip, it was a personal chef.”
I laugh. “I’m no Anthony Bourdain, but bacon and eggs I can do.”
He smiles again, and there are a few more moments of silence. He puts his fork down and takes a sip of coffee.
“So, are you… doing okay?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah, I actually am. I think.”
I chuckle. “You think? If you’re hiding a gay-freak-out under that casual exterior, I say ‘bravo’, because your performance is flawless.”
He chuckles. “Nope, no morning-after panic. I’m not that good an actor.” He takes another big gulp of coffee. “My therapist is worth his weight in gold. It took a while to figure it out, but I think ‘bisexual’ is the label that fits me best, at least at the moment.”
“So, how do you feel about it?”
“I’m okay with it. Honestly, I’m better than okay. I’ve started believing stumbling into these huge discoveries about myself is a good thing, not something I should regret. The idea that a person's sexuality can change is new to me, but it makes sense. Especially with the new things they’re discovering about how our brains change physically as a result of our experiences.”
“Now you’re speaking my language,” I grin at him. “Brain science is fascinating, and I agree with you. I think our sexuality can change over time. My guess is that it’s at least partly because of physical changes. The recent research on how we can build new neural pathways in our brains is amazing, and there’s still so much we don’t know.” I could literally talk about this topic for hours, but since I don’t want to put Matt to sleep, I shelve the brain science talking points for now.
“Right. The other thing is, even if I was attracted to men when I was younger, I don’t think I would have even noticed it. It wouldn't have occurred to me that I could be anything other than straight.”
