Cubby studies me, then lifts the branch, and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t have perfect form on the first go. In one fluid motion, he extends his arms fully, holds his weight at his base, and brings the stick down squarely in front of him.
He glances at me, his butt still distractingly hitched in the air as he holds the pose. “Like that?”
I relent and offer him the maul. “How the hell did you get that so quickly?”
“Yoga. Modern dance. Zumba.” He shrugs. “I took three years of pole dancing. Not to mention all the time at the club.” Cubby sets the heavy end of the maul on the ground, grips the handle like a prop, and then leans to the side dramatically as he extends his leg sideways. “I’m very in touch with my body, Chase.” He winks. “In case you haven’t noticed.”
Pole dancing?
“I might have noticed.”
His smile is so wide, I bust out laughing. “All right.” I set a log on the chopping block. “Give it a try. Nice and easy while you get the hang of it.”
Cubby lifts the maul and walks over to the chopping block. “Nice and easy,” he repeats, but when he lifts it, I see that the weight of the heavy tool throws his balance off.
Without thinking, I step forward and lay one hand on his lower back. “Keep yourself steady,” I say and press my palm there.
Cubby freezes. He straightens his back, lowering the maul at the same time. “Like this?”
I take his shoulder, opening him up. “Perfect.”
We stay there another second, no more than a heartbeat. The birds and the crickets are loud, and the stars are starting to come out. My hands hold Cubby steady, and it’s only when I feel my dick hardening that I snap out of it and step back.
“Here goes,” Cubby says, then smoothly pulls the maul back, lifts it with his perfect form, and cracks down on the log, splintering it.
“Oh my God,” he gasps, happy, then pulls the tool back. “Another!”
I grin and set another log up for him, and the second I step back, Cubby repeats the motion, pounding a second log. “Again!” he says, laughing with pure delight, and we take care of one more.
Cubby pops his hips, wiggling his butt as he shoots me a mischievous smile, then stands again. “I’m good, right?”
“Like a pro.” I grab a splintered log. “Let’s get this fire started.”
“Wow.” He tosses the maul down casually and follows me to the firepit. “I can’t believe it. I’m a natural woodchopper.” He finds his cocktail and unscrews the top. “I thought I would be, actually, but it’s different to really do it.”
“You know how to make a fire too?”
“Meg taught me. Why? Can I help?”
I nod to the pit, amused by his enthusiasm. “Have at it.”
Cubby drops down onto the ground, landing beside the pile of kindling. “I’d offer to credit you in my woodchopping video, but I’m pretty sure you’d hate the attention.”
I sit down on the bench across from him. “Sweet of you to ask, though.” I try the drink, which has some spice to it, and maybe a lemony taste or something. “This is good.”
Cubby glances up. “Oh, glad you like it.” He messes around, arranging the kindling. “You know, the fact that I’m not making a joke about lighting your fire right now? That’s a big accomplishment for me.”
It takes me a second to process what he said, and by the time I do, he’s already moved on, talking fast and thinking fast.
“You said you live in a cabin outside of town?” Cubby asks. “Are you like, in the middle of the woods and all alone?”
“My friend Sully has a cabin nearby, but it’s a walk to get there.”
“Wow.” He adds on some small logs, bigger than I would use to get a fire started, but I don’t say anything. “I’ve just always had other people around me. Like, constantly. If I were totally alone all the time, I would probably freak out.”
I chuckle. “There’s nothing to freak out about. Besides, I come to town a lot of days, and my family stops by plenty.”
Cubby pushes a hand through his hair and looks up at me. “But still. You don’t get lonely?”
