GEORGE

Of course, because everything was just fucking fantastic, when I arrived at the breakfast hall in the main cabin, shit hit the fan. Not immediately, no. First I served plates of food to children—strange ones, and familiar ones—and plopped heaps of reheated pancakes on massive hairy adult men’s trays.

Mom was heating hot chocolate.

Every time we’d gone camping when we were kids, the first thing we did morning and night was dish up a big ole mug of cocoa and settle in with our food. So it shouldn’t have been a big deal, even though it was a weird breakfast choice.

And it wasn’t.

Until I was tasked with dishing out the cups for a rowdy group of unfamiliar teenagers and in my distraction burned the absolute shit out of my forearm right by my wrist. 

I wanted to swear, to stomp, to—to—something. 

But I didn’t. 

Little ears were listening.

Instead, I just grinned and bore the pain like I’d done with my last breakup while the sickening sizzle of my skin hitting the heated side of the pan was playing on repeat in the back of my mind. Ssssss. Ouch-fuck. Ssssss. Ouch-Jesus. I couldn’t help but feel sick to my stomach as the pain morphed into a dull numbness that meant the burn was worse than I’d thought.

But even then, that wasn’t when the shit hit the fan.

No.

It hit when Joe came bounding into the mess hall, his arms held high in triumph, a gaggle of bobble-headed faux alpha-males trailing behind him wearing…hiking backpacks.

Oh god.

No.

No, no, no.

Roddy was at the front, grinning with the best of them. He fit in with my family better than I did, and my chest gave a dull throb as I watched Joe sling an easy arm over his shoulder before he herded him in my direction—my mom’s direction.

“Mrs. M.” Roddy was grinning, all cheesy and sweet like he had when we were sixteen and he’d asked me covertly if I might like to dance with him at the prom. My heart gave a sad twinge, though when I stared at his—now very adult—face I didn’t feel the longing I’d felt for years of my childhood.

This wasn’t my Roddy.

Mine had grown up.

My forearm throbbed and the smell of burnt skin filled my paranoid nose as I surreptitiously pulled it behind my back. The last thing I needed after the whole Alex knows your peculiarities thing from last night was for anyone else to see me mess up in this big outdoor adventure. This wasn’t my style. This had never been my style.

Hell, I’d tried for a while too.

Even bedazzled my fucking hiking boots in preparation for one of our many numerous campouts growing up but…fuck. This was different. Back then I hadn’t known who I was. For all I knew I was the sparkly gay kid with a penchant for sleeping bags.

Instead,  I was actually a bedraggled twenty-six-year-old in designer jeans, hiding a burn behind his back because he was still afraid of his family’s judgment. Fuck me. I was pathetic.

And now I had to go hiking and be pathetic at the same time.

Ugh.

***

I wore long sleeves but the stinging skin of my burn caught on the fabric. The numbness was still there and the pain was easy enough to ignore because of it. It was a weird combination of sensation, like the really burned bits were all sensationed-out but the parts of my skin that hadn’t literally boiled off were still smarting.

I kept an eye out for Alex—because how could I not when I’d woken up with his dick grinding against my ass and a mouthful of the musky sweet cologne he wore in my nose? I was only human. Though I was honestly ashamed as well as aroused.

The way I’d acted that night was embarrassing. Just thinking about how stupid I’d looked crawling into his sleeping bag because of a fucking bug made my skin crawl with ants. The irony of that was hilarious. Except it wasn’t.

Alex was ahead, climbing along in the noon sunlight in a pair of frankly delicious black joggers and a backpack slung easily over his broad shoulders. He had a little curl at the back of his neck that looked particularly bitable, but I did my best not to imagine that as I huffed and puffed along at the back of the procession, dodging small craters in the earth that looked suspiciously like rodent homes. Or worse.

Though I didn’t really want to think about the worse possibilities. 

I was sweating up a storm by the time the men leading the pack of stragglers decided we deserved a break. There was a creek up ahead. I could hear its twinkling babble as I collapsed onto a boulder just off the trail and shook out the pins and needles in my feet. I hadn’t worn hiking shoes. Hadn’t brought them.

These were my gym shoes, and apparently treadmill running was not in fact the same as wilderness exploring. I hadn’t thought I’d need anything more heavy duty than this because I’d figured any sort of trailblazing would be left to the people that actually enjoyed it. 

That wasn’t what had happened. Because I was cursed. Fucking cursed by my own pride and the fact that when Joe had turned his big blue eyes on me and asked if I was coming—resignation already written across his face—I’d decided fuck it all to hell, I would prove him wrong.

Prove him wrong my ass.

My thong had been riding up the entire fucking hike and I hated myself a little because somehow I hadn’t predicted the underwear would be an issue on top of everything else.

Mom had stayed back with the kids, and I thought back to the tables full of arts and crafts wistfully. I should’ve never left. I could’ve lived my whole life without knowing what it felt like to dodge snake homes with my thong riding my ass.

I hated this.

I hated it so much there was no way I could hide it.

A bee buzzed by my head—or maybe it was a wasp?—and I startled, swatting at it as a very unhappy noise squawked its way out of my throat. Of course that was when Alex wandered up, all shiny white teeth and dimples.

“Water?” He asked, waving his fancy insulated metal water bottle at me. It was name brand. Because of course it was. Trust Alex to be the only person in the entire wedding procession to have better taste than I did in water bottles.

I hadn’t brought one.

Because apparently not only was I cursed to be stupid, I was also cursed to be thirsty.

“Thanks.” I took the bottle because as much as I hated relying on him—again—I was in fact, rather parched.

“I figured you would’ve stayed behind,” Alex said. His words rankled but he said them in such a smooth, non judgemental way that I couldn’t really take offense.

“Didn’t want to miss out,” I lied, then drank. The water was ice cold and more than a little delicious, but I politely didn’t drink it all, even though I was tempted to just to spite him and his pretty face.

Alex’s smile grew wicked, like he could see right through me to my nefarious thoughts. “Because you’re such a big fan of nature.” He nodded. “Bugs.” He nodded again. “Sweating in the big outdoors.”

“Oh, shut up.” I glared at him but my lips twitched like they wanted to smile, the traitors. I couldn’t help but remember what it had felt like to be squashed up against all that bulk. Warm. Squishy in all the right places. Hard in others.

 I swallowed.

“Do you like it?” I asked, more curious than I had any right to be.

“Sweating in the big outdoors?” Alex teased. I narrowed my eyes at him, and seeing my ire, he answered, “Yeah. I didn’t get to do this a lot. Dad was busy when we were growing up so Juney and I didn’t branch out with our hobbies till we were adults.”

“You spend a lot of time together?” I asked, surprised.

“When we’re in the same city, yeah. Though she’s really more of a small town gal. Right out of high school we went backpacking together for a couple months. Spent a few days in Utah climbing through Zion, some time at the Redwoods, and Yellowstone.”

“Wow.” Outdoorsy then.

“You don’t have to look so disgusted,” Alex laughed, sitting down beside me, the long line of his thigh bleeding heat into mine. I pressed his cool water bottle to my wrist to soothe its sting unconsciously. I hadn’t realized my nose had been all scrunched up until I forced it to relax. 

“I’m not disgusted. I just…” I shuddered. “I don’t see how you could voluntarily put yourself in that position.”

“In the position of going outside?” He was clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yes.”

“Almost like you’re doing right now,” he pointed out. 

I elbowed him.

 Hard. 

Alex chuckled, the sound rolling over me till the hair on my arms stood up and my toes curled. He leaned into me and I felt the tickle of his dark hair against the shell of my ear as he spoke. “I don’t mind that you’re not outdoorsy, Georgie.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just said, “Fuck off.”

Alex pulled back, grinning as he booped my nose playfully. My cheeks burned and I shoved his water bottle back at him, heart wobbly. He accepted it gracefully, and then he was gone, loping away just as quickly as he’d come. Even though I’d been the one to banish him, I kinda missed his grin as I rose to my already sore feet and followed behind the now slow-moving procession.

When we reached the creek all hell broke loose.

***

The rocks we were expected to climb across were slippery and my shoes—and I—were not prepared. I watched as person after person easily leapt across the shallow creek, laughter bubbling up as loud as the tinkling water as they shoved at each other on the other side.

Then finally, it was my turn.

I’d been stupid to wait till I was last. It put way too much attention on me and I could feel eyes burning on my skin as they stared me down from across the water. It was probably only ten feet wide and maybe a foot or two deep. But still, irrational fear made my throat tight and my heart stutter. 

What if I slipped?

What if I fell?

What if I didn’t go at all, and I had to be reminded I was a coward—gently and playfully—for the entire rest of this horrible trip? Fuck. Why had I come here at all? This wasn’t my thing.

Because, deep down, you wanted to prove him wrong, the little voice deep inside me whispered.

You wanted to prove them all wrong.

I could do things.

I could.

I wasn’t a coward.

I wasn’t a cry baby.

I was…fuck.

I was crossing a fucking stream.

The first rock was easy enough. The second too. Halfway across the creek my spirits began to lift.

“Hell yeah! Go, Arthur, go!” Joe yelled, clearly trying to be supportive, though his words only startled me. I wobbled. Fuck.

I glanced up and realized quickly that it was a mistake. A few feet away on the other bank, Alex was watching me. A lock of dark hair had slipped across his forehead, sweat beaded at his temple as his brow furrowed in gentle concern.

Then his eyes widened.

I followed his gaze, glancing down, terrified as I tried to figure out why he suddenly looked so alarmed. And then…I saw it.

A snake.

Slithering its way across the opposite bank. No one else had seemed to notice and even though I knew—rationally—I was still far enough away and there was no way it could reach me before I could outrun it, that didn’t stop the fear from taking over my body.

“George!” Alex called, a lot more alarmed now. The smooth timber of his voice should’ve soothed me but instead it just proved that I was not in fact seeing things.

I had to go back.

There was no way in hell I was moving forward.

But I was frozen.

The tinkling of the creek did nothing to soothe me. Did snakes travel in packs? Gangs? Or were there lone snakes like lone wolves? No, that didn’t make sense. Were there more of them? Fucking hell. I was trembling all over, my limbs stiff with ice. I had to go back. I had to. I had to, I had to, IhadtoIhadto.

“What’s going on?” Joe called, gentle as ever. But my words were just as frozen inside my throat as my body was on top of the rocks. I couldn’t stop staring at the snake, watching it with naked fear as ice filled my veins.

Slither, slither, tinkle, creak, went the snake, creek, and wind.

Finding my courage, I forced myself to move.

I took a step backward, searching with the toe of my shoe for the stone I’d vacated behind me, unable to look away. My belly rolled as my equilibrium shifted. Distantly, I recognized that I’d missed the step but…it didn’t hit me what that meant till cool wind whipped my cheeks and my body hit the water with a distinct splash.

Snakes.

I should’ve been thinking about how cold the water was, or the fact that I was drenched—or all the diseases I could get from getting my open wound wet with unfiltered water, but instead all I could think about was snakes.

The water wasn’t deep, though it was littered with boulders.

My back hit a rock, my temple glancing off another one as I spluttered and flailed, startling into action far too late to save myself.

I hated myself a little then, but…that feeling wasn’t new.

I hated myself a lot nowadays.

Suspended in treacherous water, I allowed myself a moment to mourn my dignity, but before I could wallow properly, warm fingers wrapped around my wrists, dragging me up, up, up. The sting of the rough grip touching my burned skin only made me hiss in pain.

My head popped out of the water, my eardrums quaking as I choked in a breath and my blurry gaze met the glacial blue of Alex’s dark-rimmed eyes.

“C’mon,” he said, because of course it was Alex who had come to my rescue and not someone else.

Part of me wanted him to carry me away from all of this. Rescue me like a damsel in distress so I didn’t have to think about how humiliated I was about to be—or the fact that the snake was still slithering away behind us, possibly coming closer.

But the other part of me recognized how humiliated I already felt. Helpless to my own fear. Weak in the face of my own short-comings. The last thing I needed was to chip away at the last dregs of my self-worth.

All I had left was my pride, and even that was flimsy as a rubber-necked dog toy.

Alex seemed to be more of a forward thinker than I was, an angel lacking his shit-eating grin for once. He didn’t embarrass me, even though he could’ve, by carrying me in front of everyone. Instead, he slung my arm around his warm shoulder and bodily dragged me through the shallow stream to the side I’d just vacated. The rocks were slippery beneath my feet, covered in algae and muck and I tried not to think about things like malaria as Alex murmured quiet reassurances in my ear all the way till our feet hit the solid ground on the other side of the bank.

My shoes sank a little, water dribbling cold down the back of my legs as my pants clung stiff and unyielding to my thighs.

“Everything okay?” Joe hollered, but I ignored him, my face red, my hands shaking.

Embarrassed, embarrassed, embarrassed.

I couldn’t believe everyone had seen my literal fall from grace.

Quaking in shock and anger at myself, I let Alex do all the talking. I wasn’t sure if I opened my mouth I’d be able to speak at all. Or maybe I’d just start swearing. Or crying. Both?

“Gonna take George back! Get him some dry clothes,” Alex called, sounding way too cheerful as he gave a jaunty wave. “See you later!”

He didn’t wait for a reply before we headed off.

Alex didn’t stop to ask me if I was okay, somehow knowing that treating me like I was fragile in front of everyone else would only further my humiliation. I was already a one man train wreck. The last thing I needed was more ammunition against me.

Instead, he supported my bodyweight, helping me back along the trail till we were out of earshot of the others, hidden behind a swath of green-leafed giants. And then Alex shifted gears swiftly, quite literally manhandling me onto the boulder we’d vacated only a few minutes earlier.

It was warm.

And I was dripping.

I glared at him because if I stopped glaring I was pretty sure I’d cry. If that happened I’d hate myself more. So that wasn’t an option.

Now that the shock was wearing off I couldn’t help the shivering.

Alex was wet too, his joggers clinging to his shapely thighs, cupping muscle and sinew in a way that should not have looked obscene, but it did. He looked like he’d stepped off the pages of a men’s fitness magazine.

His nipples were hard, pressing against his black t-shirt.

His arm hair clung to his ropey forearms, soaked to the bone, gooseflesh trembling its way across the tanned flesh.

He was cold.

Because of me.

Alex’s chest heaved as he sighed, long and gusty. Then with no warning he shoved my thighs apart with his knees, crowding into my personal space without a care in the world. My heart gave a nervous flutter and I tipped my head back to look at him, confused, turned on, and humiliated all at once. Though I recognized that not all of those things were his fault.

His lips were drawn into a thin line, his brow furrowed in uncharacteristic concern. He licked his lower lip, tongue bright pink.

Was he going to kiss me?

No.

Right?

Did I want him to?

Alex’s eyes were flooded with worry. Pale and gorgeous, rimmed with shadows cast by his unfairly thick, dark lashes.

“Lemme see,” he said, reaching for my cheeks, tilting my head, this way and that as he inspected me liberally. I watched the way his chest moved with each breath. I counted the bobs of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. 

Minutes passed as he parted swathes of my hair, searching for injuries I already knew he wouldn’t find. Sure, I’d bonked my head, but I hadn’t hit it that hard.

Not hard enough to cause the face he was making now, his jaw clenched tight, all mirth missing.

When Alex deemed my head well enough, he moved on, feeling around my back for bruises, only stopping when I winced and hissed as his fingers found the spot where one of the boulders had nailed me right between my shoulder blades as I’d fallen.

“How bad does it hurt?” he asked, almost clinically. Though I wasn’t blind, I could see how concerned he was.

“Just bruised.” I shrugged, but my heart was fluttering all over the place. With every touch of his sure, confident fingers my pulse kicked up a notch and my traitorous stomach danced with butterflies.

No one had ever looked at me like this before.

Ever.

Usually they just rolled their eyes—or…helped but not without a good-natured ribbing. This was different. Alex…Alex cared. He wasn’t annoyed by me. He was…worried.

Why though?

I’d been nothing but snippy with him. I hardly knew the guy. At all. Why did he care?

Alex continued to explore and I let him, too dazed to do anything but obediently bend to his whims. By the time he found my burned wrist my heart was in my throat. I’d known this was coming but still I wasn’t prepared. His voice was quiet, dangerous.

“What is this?” He asked, framing my forearm with his long, tanned fingers. He gave me a gentle squeeze, careful not to touch the burn. “This is why you made that noise,” he remarked thoughtfully. The fact he’d noticed I’d reacted to him touching me when he’d helped me from the water was just…wow. I couldn’t even process that.

“I burned myself.”

“When?”

“This morning?” I tried to pull my wrist back but he didn’t let me.

“Did you tell anyone?” His eyes were dark, stormy. My toes curled in my soggy tennis shoes as I shook my head. “Why?” There was no room for argument in his tone.

I swallowed, a new kind of shame bubbling up inside me. I tried to snatch my wrist away again, but—he held tight, forcing me to look at him as he moved to cradle my face with his other hand, tipping it gently toward him till I had no choice but to move.

“Didn’t…” I started.

“Didn’t, what?” God, even now he sounded gentle, though I could hear an edge to his voice.

“Didn’t want to be ‘fussy Arthur’ again.”

“Fussy Arthur?” He trailed off, clearly processing my words. Even though he’d just been repeating me, hearing the old nickname on his tongue made me flinch. I knew he didn’t mean anything by it—but fuck. I’d heard that term so many times from my ex, and though I hadn’t been lying earlier in the car when I’d said he hadn’t been abusive, I figured maybe…I don’t know. Maybe in a way he had been?

Was it possible for abuse to come from words and not blows?

Clearly I’d reacted negatively because I watched Alex’s mouth soften, and his grip grew gentle once again. Cajoling. I didn’t move away, even though now I could.

“You don’t like that,” he stated, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle across my cheekbone.

I shook my head.

“Just like you don’t like being called Arthur.” I nodded. “Okay.” Alex exhaled sharply, clearly debating with himself before he gave my cheek one last gentle swipe with the pad of his thumb and pulled back. “I won’t tell anyone about the burn, but I want you to promise to let me help you when we get back to camp.”

I blinked, then nodded.

“No complaining.”

I nodded again.

I couldn’t stop shivering, the cold dredging up feelings to the surface that made me feel rubbed raw. 

“Good.” And with that Alex forced me to my feet, turned around, and patted his shoulders expectantly. It took me a second to figure out what he wanted.

“I got burned, I didn’t break my leg. I don’t need you to carry me,” I huffed, even though my mind had already wandered to snakes and other creepy crawlies. Oh god. Were there leeches in the water? Had I been leeched?

“You’re going to slow us down worrying about all the critters out here.”

I blinked.

Okay, mind reader.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hopped up, surprised by how easily he took my weight considering the fact that I wasn’t much smaller than him.

“This way you can relax,” he added, and I could hear his smile in the words.

Relax.

As if I could relax with my wet body clinging to all his supple, warm muscles. Fuck. He smelled good. I resisted the urge to bury my nose in the back of his neck, but only just. Maybe I bumped it a few times. Maybe I nuzzled the scent of his cologne? Or maybe not.

Either way, he didn’t seem to mind as we trekked our way slowly back toward the cabins in companionable silence. His steps never faltered, and he never dropped me and I realized, quite possibly, Alex wasn’t as horrible as I had thought.