His head spun in my direction. I didn’t need to look; he had a scowl. “He went and stayed with his boyfriend.” Well, now I had an image of all three of them. “Areclusewho lives outside Firefly.”
Wait. Did he mean— I shuffled onto my side. “Seamus is dating somebody?”
“Patrick.” I ignored the hypocrisy of my probing for information. “We’ve stayed in touch. I’ve seen photos of Seamus, but that was the first time I saw him in person. He’s as elusive as your mythical turkey.”
“Beatrice,” I said. “If you hear a gobble, run. The rumor is she rides a moose and devours souls.”
He laughed. It started as a snort and grew until he had to wipe his eyes. “Your people are weird.”
‘Your people.’ It struck like a punch to the chest. Of the things I wanted to be known for, association with Firefly had never been on the list. It made gossiping about Seamus even more uncomfortable. Shortly after the divorce, rumors circulated. Everything from cheating to a loveless marriage. A wayward comment about him hitting on a guy at a poker game caught my attention. Though we never talked, from then on, I believed we shared a secret.
For a second, I wondered if life would have been different for us if I had simply asked?
“What happened to your asshole ex?” I didn’t want to dwell on what-ifs.
“The next day I drove home.” Not exactly vengeful. “Without him.”
He turned to the stars.
I couldn’t help but stare… at him. Our first encounter had been apologetic. Then brooding. Even the kiss had been to ease tension. I thought Nick was a man wandering through life lost. Hearing he took life by the balls and left his ex stranded in Firefly? He had my respect. It was the first time he had stepped out of the gloom.
“Get up,” I said. “You’re not sleeping. I’m not sleeping. We’re going on an adventure.”
“Now?” He sat up. “It’s dark.”
“We can fix that.” I fished through my rucksack.
“Are you going to make a torch out of?—”
I produced a flashlight. With a click, it transformed into a lantern.
“Torch would have been cooler.”
The night had cooled, but not to the point of being chilly. If we weren’t going to sleep, I might as well give him another initiation into the wilderness club. I took him by the hand, tugging him along. On our bare feet, I held the light low to the ground, watching for loose branches or worse, acorns. Nature’s Legos.
We followed along the river until we stood on a cliff a few feet above the water. Having discovered the swimming hole earlier, I hadn’t expected to return in the middle of the night. The river cascaded down the rocks, creating a small whirlpool. Not deep enough for diving, but perfect for relaxing without being whisked away by the current.
“You’re not serious.”
“I’m very serious.”
I set the lantern on the rock before pulling my shirt off. Next, the pants. Without a modicum of hesitation, down went the briefs. I sat on the ledge, my ankles reaching the water. The mountain springs were chillier than I expected. My shrinking testicles confirmed.
I should have stopped to see if he stared, or at least snuck a peek.
He shuffled, and I heard the teeth of his zipper give way. I thought I’d have to do more convincing. It had only been an afternoon in the woods, and something about him had changed. The sadness lingered, but it had cleared enough to see the man underneath. I turned my head, hoping to catch a gander of him in all his glory.
Penis. Eye-level.
He stretched as if he had just awoken. It’d be rude to not admire it for a moment. I had seen plenty of cocks in my time, and if Nick turned out to be a grower… the back of my throat tickled at the thought. Before he could look down and catch my erection, I slid off the rocks into the water. I let out an audible hiss as my testicles all but vanished.
“Cold?”
“P-P-Perfect.” The rush of water felt good against my backside. Holding my breath and gritting my teeth, I sank down. The bubbles from the small waterfall pushed against my back. During the day, nature’s hot tub would have been relaxing. I distracted myself from the cold with another peek at my endowed hiking buddy. My cock didn’t know if it should get hard or keep withdrawing.
“I’m not doing this,” he muttered.
I expected him to hem and haw, to find an excuse that kept him dry. When his feet touched the water, I thought he’d turnaround and get dressed. He clumsily pushed off, splashing into the pool, sending a wave over my head.
