In other words, too good for Cade and too decent for the world he lived in. That was why he needed to push his obscene thoughts aside and store them in a box he could never open.
Feeling sullen and irritable, Cade threw off the covers and got out of bed. He showered and made breakfast. He sat at the table eating cereal when Tristan padded in with a yawn.
His hair stuck up in a tousled mess, and his eyelids drooped. His shirt hung off one shoulder, and his face sported a grumpy expression. As always, Tristan was adorable in his sleepy state.
Cade's gaze traveled down past Tristan's boxers to his flawless thighs, showcased in all their tanned, muscled glory. Like the skin of his back, they were unblemished.
What a shame.Thighs like those deserved to be worshipped and bitten and branded.
Realizing his thoughts had wandered into inappropriate territory again, Cade lowered his head and stared at his bowl, willing his dirty thoughts into nonexistence.
Tristan mumbled, "Good morning," and got himself a bowl of cereal as well. He plopped into a chair, and they crunched without speaking. After breakfast, Tristan stretched his muscles and walked toward the window, staring into the trees while Cade washed the dishes.
"I want to help Annabeth, but there's nothing I can do. It makes me feel … I don't know, antsy, anxious."
Cade had no response to that.
Tristan spun around and declared, "Ugh, I need to do something. I'm overflowing with energy. I need to move or run or … something."
Several thoughts about how Tristan could burn off energy, not all of them innocent, danced through Cade's brain.
Without giving himself time to question his decision, he offered, "I have an idea."
Chapter 8: Tension
Tristan
Tristan lifted the ax and tested its weight as Cade snatched an unsplit log from a nearby pile. He was a bit disappointed that Cade's idea for burning off energy was chopping wood and not something involving nudity, but that had been wishful thinking, he supposed.
As Cade placed the log on the flat tree stump, he asked, "Have you done this before?"
"Don't worry about it," Tristan answered, deflecting. He hadn't, in fact, ever used an ax, but it couldn't be that hard to thwack the sharp, pointy edge on a piece of wood that size, right?
Taking a few steps back, Cade motioned for him to begin, and Tristan took a deep breath, planted his feet and swung the ax. He realized a split second before he connected that he missed his mark, catching the edge rather than the middle of the log. He gaped, horrified, as the whole thing catapulted from the stump, hurling toward Cade, who managed to leap from its path, barely escaping a kneecapping.
Both sets of eyes followed as the wood skittered to a stop a few yards away. Tristan felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"What the fuck was that?" Cade growled as he stalked toward the log and picked it up with one unfairly large hand.
"I'm sorry. I didn't hit it straight on and it just …"
"I thought you said you did this before!" Cade snapped as he returned the log to the stump, glaring. Tristan gulped, hating that he had to tilt his head up to look the other man in the eye.
"I didn't say that … exactly. I said, 'Don't worry about it.'"
Cade's face pinched into a scowl. "So you haven't done this before?"
"I …"
"Just shut up. Here, let me show you."
"I don't need your help!"
"Obviously, you do. Are you right-handed?"
"Yes."
Cade gripped the ax in front of him to demonstrate. "Okay, then hold it like this. Keep your grip tight just like that. Now you try."
