“Do you know what would be fun?” I ask. Ansel’s been ignoring me since he woke up. I’ve given him space, but now I need his attention back on me. I’m starving for it.
Wylder would tell me this level of obsession is unhealthy. But he’s not here, so I don’t give a fuck. Even if he were here, I probably wouldn’t listen.
As soon as Ansel saw that he was cuddled up against me during his nap, he rolled off the bed and stood in the kitchen, facing the wall. He didn’t turn around for a full twenty minutes. He reminded me of a cat I had long ago. I moved his cat tree to a different place. He crawled up into it, tucked his face into the carpet, and didn’t look at me for a full day.
I was worried, but it turned out that he was just pissed.
I’m sure Ansel is the same. I just need to be patient.
I usually have a hard time with that, despite my father trying to beat it out of me, but for him, for my butterfly, I can do it.
After twenty minutes of silence though, I’m going out of my mind. He waits another ten before answering me.
“I’m sure you’ll tell me even if I don’t wanna hear it,” he says, turning around finally. “What is it?”
It’s been so long since I asked the question that it takes me a second to remember. “We could take this blanket outside and watch the stars.”
That makes Ansel’s mouth open, and a laugh escapes him. It’s the most beautiful sound, if I do say so myself. His rejection of my romantic idea doesn’t even faze me because he’s laughing. He’s happy.
I like making him happy. Feels nice. Addictive.
He shakes his head, still chuckling. “What the fuck? This isn’t a romantic getaway.”
“Might as well make the most of it.”
He frowns, and then his shoulders slump. “You know what? You’re right. Why the fuck not?”
That perks me up. He’s not fighting it anymore—fighting me. He gave it his all, but I wore him down.
Perfect.
He sighs and gestures at me. “Go on, get up. I’ll meet you outside.”
I love that he doesn’t offer to help with the ropes. We both know how pointless that’d be now. “Don’t leave me alone outside for too long.”
“I won’t be but a minute. And here.” He tosses something my way, and I realize it’s my pants.
I ignore them entirely. I don’t want pants in the way of getting to him.
I quickly wriggle the fastenings around my wrists loose and stand up, stretching as I do. Ansel peers over at me, my naked body on display, and his cheeks flush. I grab the blanket from the bed and tuck it under my arm. The knife is tucked underneath as well, hidden from his eyes. Not to use on him, but just in case we’re ambushed.
I don’t think we will be, but I can never be too careful. Especially with whatever shit he’s gotten himself into.
When I stride toward the door, his eyes move down to my cock swinging between my legs. The more he stares at it, the harder it gets.
I pretend I haven’t noticed. “You didn’t happen to bring any hot chocolate, did you? The kind with the little marshmallows?”
“No,” he huffs, and then turns his gaze away.
Hmm. I’ll have to make sure to get proper supplies for next time. “That’s fine. Can still be romantic without the cocoa.”
“Not romantic,” he seethes, but I’m already striding outside, bare as the day I was born. I crane my neck up toward the dark sky above me, searching for the best place the two of us can lie down and watch the stars.
My bare feet crunch on twigs and leaves, and I feel the odd mosquito bite, but it’s nothing I haven’t endured before.
Don’t come home if you fail at this.
My father’s words echo in my head as I set the blanket on the ground, pushing his voice away. I don’t need him in my head at a time like this. There’s nothing worse for a boner than him.
