Nate held out his hand, and I extended the bottle.
“It’s hot.”
He winced a little and used his own sleeve when he drank from it.
He didn’t cough like he sometimes did.
“Jesus, Ash. This might be your best blend yet.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded and took another sip.
I didn’t know why that made me wanna fucking cry, but my eyes stung and my chest swelled with emotion.
We grew quiet for a while and just passed the flask between us.
The fire was like a magnet. When I didn’t allow myself to look at Nathan, it was so easy to stare into the flames and get lost in our memories.
They’d become my steady companion on lonely nights in an empty apartment.
They comforted me as much as they crushed me to the point where it felt like my chest was about to cave in and I couldn’t breathe.
I released some smoke and leaned forward, resting my arms on my legs.
“This used to be one of my favorite moments on vacation,” he admitted. “After a long hike and hundreds of photos, make sure the kids are off to bed and then watch you smoke a cigar.”
I looked down at the cigar.
He’d sometimes sniff me after I’d smoked. I’d laugh and shake my head at him, and then we’d go to town on each other.
All thosegoddamnmemories.
Nate took a big swig of the whiskey before handing me the flask. “Do you remember right before we got married, you and Theo stood outside the church?”
I furrowed my brow, thinking back.
“Not the front—you went out a side door or something,” he said. “I saw you when I went to get Hallie’s stuffie from the car. And you… You didn’t look nervous at all. You stood there with your brother, laughing and smoking a cigar. Like, you celebrated even before we’d said I do.”
I did remember that. I just didn’t know Nate had seen me.
“I wasn’t nervous,” I said quietly. “I was…certain.”
He sighed and turned toward me, hitching a leg over the log so he was facing me fully.
“Why did you close your Mclean account?”
That was the mother of topic changes.
I finished the last of the whiskey and thought of what to say. But in the end, had my answer changed any? Not really.
I tucked the empty flask into a pocket and returned my gaze to the fire.
“I guess I lost interest,” I murmured. “I’m no longer a husband, so I don’t have to give a shit either. I’ll stick to being a dad.”
I felt his eyes on me, and I refused to meet his gaze. I was in no mood to fight.
Besides, most of my kink memories had been sullied. In Boston, they had centered around Nathan and me testing thewaters. Then, joining Mclean, the purpose had become blurry. I’d found fantastic friends, and I’d felt like I was a part of the machine that kept Mclean going. I’d helped plan events, I’d hosted demos, and I’d gotten to know some amazing people. But I hadn’t explored anything sexual for the Daddy Dom in me. Not once.
