Page 131 of We Are Just Us

Kieran pulled into the driveway, Hank and Mabel panting in the back. They’d walked the San Elijo Lagoon trail with Vera, all the way out to the beach and back. His legs ached in that good, tired way.

He waved. Rory looked up, nodded, went back to waxing.

Kieran got the dogs out, herded them into the house. He filled their water bowls, then headed back outside.

Rory was still at it. The board propped up on the sawhorse, his hands working the wax with more force than necessary.

Kieran recognized the tension. Nerves.

“You okay?” Kieran asked, coming to stand beside him.

“Fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

Rory paused, exhaling through his nose. “I’m competing in the 30-39 bracket.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I’m thirty-eight.”

“Also aware.”

“Basically forty.”

Kieran raised an eyebrow. “Are you having an existential crisis about your age right now?”

“No. I’m having a realistic assessment of my chances.” Rory went back to waxing, harder now. “I’d have a much better shot if I was in the next bracket up. 40-49. I’d be at the bottom of the age range instead of the top.”

“So you’re saying you wish you were older?”

“I’m saying the competition’s going to be brutal and I’m already at a disadvantage.”

Kieran watched him, then stepped closer, draping himself over Rory’s shoulders from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.

Rory stiffened. Then inhaled. Then inhaled again. “You stink,” he said, but he didn’t pull away.

Kieran blinked. “Do I?”

He lifted his arm, sniffed. Couldn’t tell. Sweat, maybe. Salt air. Dog.

“You don’t seem that upset about it,” Kieran said.

Rory’s hand came up to grip Kieran’s forearm, keeping him in place. “I’m suffering.”

“You’re smelling me like a golden retriever.”

“Shut up.”

“Have you taken a shower yet?” Kieran asked, turning his head to look at Rory’s profile. “Gotten the ocean off your skin?”

“No.”

“So we both stink.”

Rory’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “I guess.”

Kieran pressed a kiss to the side of Rory’s neck. “We should fix that.”