“Well, c’mon. Let’s put the food away and get the beer on ice, then we can check out the rest of the place.” Simon slung an arm over Patrick’s shoulders, and together they went inside to explore the cabin that would be their home for the weekend.
Patrick
He was soglad Simon had suggested getting out of town for a while. God, it was good to escape the usual routine, even if it was for just a day or two. He felt himself relaxing already, the tension falling away. His shoulders loosened as he hummed to himself and began to unpack. He removed his clothes from the duffel and placed the roughly folded T-shirts in a dresser drawer. The shirts hadn’t traveled well and were crushed, but he shrugged—the creases would fall out once he put them on. Patrick hadn’t bothered with dress shirts; they hadn’t planned on venturing further than the wilderness immediately surrounding the house. He closed the drawer with a dull thud and glanced around the small room that was his for the weekend.
The cabin had two bedrooms—this one, and one further down the hall, the two rooms separated by a bathroom. As Patrick sat on the bed in the room Simon had insisted he take, he thought of the other bedroom. The room Simon had decided to sleep in had twin beds, not a large comfortable bed like the one Patrick bounced on. He gave another experimental bounce or two and lay back, sinking into the nest of pillows as a sharp stab of regret knotted his belly.
Stupid, probably, but he’d sort of hoped they’d share a room. Surely he hadn’t read the flirting wrong? All these months of stolen glances and gentle teasing. He sighed heavily. Maybe it wasn’t to be?Fuck! Why can’t I get up the courage to make the first move? It isn’t that hard, surely? I’m a damn idiot.He shook his head and sat up straighter. Well, no more. It was about time he grew some balls. He’d stop letting the letters freak him out, and he’d damn well make the first move and let Simon know how he felt.
“Patrick?” The sound of Simon’s voice jolted him from his thoughts. Patrick looked across as Simon popped his head around the doorframe. “C’mon, lazybones. Get up off your butt and come enjoy the view. I’ve emptied the cooler and it’s time to sit back with a beer.”
Simon’s dark head disappeared back in the direction of the kitchen. Patrick hauled himself up from the bed, and with a large smile on his face, followed.
Yep, with his new resolve, it sure was going to be a great weekend.
An hour later, they were relaxed on the deck and onto their second drink. Patrick toyed with the bottle, worrying the label with the corner of his thumbnail. He chanced a look at Simon, who was reclined in the outdoor lounge chair parallel to Patrick’s. Both loungers were angled to face the spectacular vista, taking in nothing but green foliage and great expanses of blue sky. Simon had his face tilted to the sky, catching the last of the sun’s rays, although a slight chill was already setting in as the sun started its descent behind the trees. Patrick zipped up his jacket as he studied his friend.
Something about Simon had appealed to Patrick from the very first moment they’d been introduced at a dinner with Charlie and Josh. It was his friendly, open attitude and his interest in everyone around him. When Simon had a conversation with someone hereallypaid attention—he listened and cared about what was being said. Of course, Patrick had been tongue-tied when the introductions had been made, and had barely managed to stammer out a greeting, but Simon’s inclusive nature meant that didn’t last long. By the time the first hour had passed, they were firm friends, and Patrick’s move to share a house with Simon had cemented their friendship.
Simon had become invaluable to Patrick. Simon listened to Patrick’s concerns, about both his job security and his past living arrangements. He’d given advice and been supportive. He’d made sure Patrick was comfortable with the other guys in the house, and checked up on him to make sure he was settling in okay. The two of them had spent countless evenings with the other guys, heading out for pizza or a game of pool. They’d taken up jogging together, something Patrick wasn’t entirely sure he enjoyed, but he knew Simon loved to pound the pavements so he panted along with him. So far he’d resisted Simon’s efforts to get him to the gym and boxing. His favorite times were the nights they were left in the house alone, thanks to Bruce working night shift and Mike spending time out socializing. Patrick flushed at the memories of sitting in the darkened living room with only the flicker from the television to provide light, sitting close enough on the couch to touch Simon if Patrick had only had the courage to reach out a hand. He’d tortured himself many a time, battling the internal demons that prevented him from saying or doing anything.
Even now, it wouldn’t take much to touch Simon. A small wooden occasional table was all that separated them. If Patrick sat up, he’d be able to lean across and place a hand on Simon’s thigh. The blue fabric of Simon’s jeans would mean he wouldn’t touch skin, but Patrick could imagine the smooth olive skin with its covering of coarse hair. Oh, how he wanted to run his fingers along Simon’s thigh and feel the texture. Patrick bit back a groan as he imagined the fuzz under his fingers. The same dark hair covered Simon’s chest, and Patrick wanted to explore that, too. Hell, he wanted to explore Simon all over. This time he couldn’t help the moan that escaped.
Simon looked over. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Sorry I’ve been so quiet. I’m not used to the silence and it’s great to lie here and listen to—well, nothing, I guess. I hope you’re not bored.” Simon sat up and swung his feet to the ground. “How about we get dinner started?”
“We?” Patrick raised his eyebrows.
Simon stood with a chuckle. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. You can come chat with me while I cook.”
Patrick followed Simon through the sliding door into the house, careful to close the screen against the insects that were starting to buzz around the outside light fixture. “What are we having anyway?”
“I thought we’d just have something simple,” Simon responded as he stuck his head in the fridge and started pulling out ingredients—lettuce, cucumber, tomato, avocado. “Hope you’re happy with steak and salad.”
“Sounds perfect. And even I can manage to chop up the ingredients for a tossed salad.”
They worked in companionable silence, Simon oiling and seasoning a couple of pieces of sirloin, while Patrick washed the lettuce and other vegetables.I could definitely get used to this.He smiled when Simon met his gaze and winked at him.Oh, yeah.He couldn’t help the answering grin.
