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“Where are you going?”

“For a walk.”

“At…” He glanced towards his phone, clearly deciding it was too much effort to reach for it, and peered out the window instead. “Is it even light out?”

“Barely.”

“That’s criminal.”

“Then I’m in the right place.” I sighed. “Go back to sleep, Alvy.”

He made a quiet sound that might have been a laugh. “Don’t get eaten by a bear.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Or abducted by a serial killer who’s obviously less attractive than me and my very sexy mask.”

“I’ll be more careful.”

“Or abducted by a bear serial killer with a very unattractive mask.”

I looked back at him. His eyes were still closed but the corner of his mouth had lifted.

My Alvin. Still making jokes. Still trying to make things easy for me. But nothing about this was easy. It never had been. And I was pretty certain it never would be.

“I’ll be back,” I said before I could stop myself.

“Promise?” he mumbled into his pillow.

“Promise.” I slipped out the door before he could ask me anything else.

The campgrounds were gray and damp beneath the early-morning sky. Mist hovered over the lake, turning the trees into dark, blurry shapes. My shoes sank into the wet grass, a mix of sprinkler water and the light rain we got last night, as I followed the path away from the cabins.

I needed to clear my head. That was what I’d told myself when I was getting dressed. The truth was, my head had become suffocating. Every thought bounced off the cabin walls and came back twice as loud.

I’d touched Alvin…

Fuck, even thinking it, I was changing what happened to make it more palatable.

I hadn’t just touched him. I’d fucking gotten down on my knees and blew him. I’d tasted him. And I hadn’t hated it. I didn’t recoil. Hell, I was turned on way more than I’d ever remembered being in my life. Way more than I should have been with some dude’s dick in my mouth.

I closed my eyes and tried to get the pictures out of my head. The last thing I needed was to be walking around a bunch of teenagers with my dick hard.

When I opened them again, the image was still there. And so was the guilt.

I’d crossed a line I’d sworn didn’t exist, then acted surprised when I found myself on the other side of it. And afterwards, I’d wanted more.

That was the part I couldn’t get past. I’d always known I wanted Alvin in some way. I’d known it deep down in that spot inside me I refused to acknowledge. But wanting him had been manageable when it was also theoretical. When it lived in stolen glances and the occasional dream I’d woken up from, sweating and furious and turned the fuck on.

Last night had made it real.

Alvin had trusted me with something I couldn’t return. His first time. Probably his heart too. He’d handed both to me while I was still trying to figure out whether I knew how to hold on to them.

Honestly, I’d taken from him for years. His attention. His loyalty. His patience. Every time he’d reached for me, I’d given him just enough to keep him close and then pulled away before either of us could figure out what I was doing. I’d made him believe he was my best friend while I punished him for wanting more than that.

Maybe last night had been the first thing I’d ever given him without asking him to pretend it meant nothing. That didn’t mean it had been right.

What if he regretted it? What if he looked at me and saw the same coward he’d always seen, only now with something else to pile on top of it? Resentment.