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I frown, hating that he’s speaking from experience. Who knows what would have happened these last ten years if I’d talked to him, but still, even now, I can’t get the picture of him and Rhett kissing out of my head. I don’t care if it only happened once, and I don’t care if my brother’s not even queer.
“You’re tense. Did I say something wrong?” Dusty brushes his fingertips from my temple down to my chin. He seems to like touching me. Some part of him is always lingering against me, and I can’t say I’m complaining. Every place where our skin meets sends the best sort of sensations shooting through me, like he has a million hands and all of them are dedicated to me, want me, make me feel like I can fly.
“No. I just wish I’d talked to you all those years ago. Or hell, not been so afraid of how I feel and told you before…you know.” Fuck, I can’t even say it.
“I’m sorry. That night is my biggest regret.”
I shake my head, and when he presses his fingertips to my lips, I kiss them. “I don’t want to do that. Neither of us is perfect or blameless. It’s in the past. I just want to keep feeling the way you make me feel.”
He grins, then leans down and kisses me. “Let’s go hiking.”
“I need to make breakfast for Dad first and give him his pills.” Both things he can do for himself. Hell, it’s not like he can’t afford a nurse to do more than pop in twice a week too. But he won’t. He hates to look anything other than invincible, so he’ll want as few people to see him as possible.
“I’ll help you.” Dusty stands and holds his hand out for me. I take it and let him pull me to my feet.
“Are you sure you want to be around him?”
“No offense, but fuck your dad. He hasn’t scared me away in all these years, and he’s not going to now.”
“He’s such a bastard.”
Dusty nods. It’s not like there’s any denying it. Still, he goes back inside with me, and we make scrambled eggs and toast—enough for us and Dad. I take Dad’s to his office with his pills while Dusty waits in the kitchen.
“That boy still here?” Dad practically spits.
“Man. And yeah. He’s going to be spending a lot of time with me while I’m here, and if you don’t like it, I won’t be here. I’ll stay with him.”
“He’s been trying to find a way into this family his whole damn life. First with you, then Rhett and Easton, and now you again.”
I roll my eyes. “Jesus, Dad. I don’t even want to be part of this family. I can promise you Dusty doesn’t either.” He looks up at me with disgust. If there’s one thing in Dad’s favor, it’s that he’s not homophobic. His dislike of Dusty has nothing to do with that. He’s never cared that I’m gay. He’s only cared that I spend time with Dusty, probably because he makes me happy. Dad doesn’t like anything that does that. “Why do you hate us so much?”
The wrinkles in his forehead grow as if he truly doesn’t understand where the question is coming from. “Don’t be dramatic. I only want…what’s best for you…and your brothers. None of you…appreciate what you’ve been given.” His words are still drawn out and slow.
“No. That’s not true. You want what’s best for you, and you want puppets. Rhett is the only one willing to give you that, and you’re still never satisfied with him.” He’ll never be satisfied with any of us no matter what we do, who we become, or how much we’re there for him.
He plucks the pills from the desk, swallows them with water, and returns to his computer, ignoring me.
I shake my head. “She would be so disappointed in you,” I tell him before walking out.
Dusty and I drink another cup of coffee and eat breakfast. I take a quick shower and get dressed. He’s broader than me and can’t fit into my clothes, so we head to his place for him to shower and get dressed. I shoot a text to Rhett, letting him know I won’t be with Dad today, then to Easton, asking if we can hang out tomorrow. Both show as read, but neither replies.
“You ready?” Dusty asks, hair wet, curling around his ears and on his forehead. He’s wearing shorts and a black T-shirt that stretches across his thick chest.
“You’re so fucking hot. I just want to stay here and fuck you again.”
He chuckles. “We have time for that later. I want to get out with you, the way we used to.”
Yeah, the truth is, I want that too.
“Let’s do Hidden Beach,” I tell him. It’s an easy hike but close, and the views are gorgeous. Plus, there’s a cove we used to go to all the time when we were teenagers. When I could manage to get away from my family, we’d spend hours out there just talking.
“That works. You know I love it there.”
He grabs a backpack and puts supplies inside—drinks and food. He gives me another with towels and a few other things, and then we take Dusty’s Jeep to the starting point at the North Trail, just outside of town. I always feel so small out here, nothing but trees and water in the distance. Sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s real, that this is where I grew up. Santa Monica is beautiful too, but the UP is like a whole other world. When I was a kid, it felt magical.
Dusty parks, and we start for the trail. It’s slightly beaten up, rocks and some debris in the way, but it’s clearly marked. You can smell the fresh water, see it in the distance despite being in such a dense forest.
“God, I love it out here,” Dusty says.
