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“Am I sleeping in the little kids’ room tonight?” Adam is the first to speak.
Trevor raises an eyebrow at me, and I quickly clear my throat. “Not tonight, Adam. It’s not raining and the tent is dry, remember?”
Trevor’s gaze flattens, but there’s a twitch to his soft lips, as if he’s laughing at my cowardice. Christ, I had sex with this man a few hours ago.
“But I want to look out on Rosie,” Adam whines.
Trevor taps his nose. “Rosie will be in the field in the morning and she’d want to see you come out of the tent first thing.”
“You think so?”
“I know so,” he reassures my son.
“And the sooner you get to sleep, the sooner it will be morning and you can see Rosie again.”
Adam doesn’t seem to buy my argument.
“Come, I’ll carry you up to your tent,” the brown-haired hulk of a man says and so easily picks my son out of my hold. And Adam settles in Trevor’s arms, no questions asked.
When I come out of the tent, Adam fast asleep, clutching Moo, a fire is burning in the wheel base a few metres away. My camping chairs have been set up around it, and a brown-haired, blue-eyed man is squeezed into one of them, uninvited. I pause for a moment and take him in. Something like butterflies flutter in my stomach, and they multiply as his gaze travels down my body.
“You want a beer, city boy?”
His low timbre sends a shiver down my spine, and I nod and grab the can in his outstretched hand as I don’t trust my own voice.
“Where’s Julie?” I ask after joining him. A few sips of the can have softened my vocal chords.
“She’s at a friend’s house, a birthday party.”
I nod, relieved I’ll not have to face her after all that has happened today.
“Did you finish the work your cousin was helping you with?”
“Yeah,” he says and goes on to explain what they did.
While the campsite slowly goes to sleep, we talk. I’ve never had conversations like this – this sharing. He tells me about the farm, about his mother and his father, and I talk about my parents and how lonely it can be to work from my apartment on my laptop. I’ve never had close friends, my girlfriends were always my best friends, and I let them speak, let them share, hiding in their light. But there’s no hiding when Trevor looks at me, the reflection of the fire burning in his eyes. They mesmerise me; I could gaze into them all night long. And I’m fascinated by his long, stained fingers, how they curl around the beer, and how his muscles move every time he shifts for a better position in the small camping chair.
The only thing we don’t talk about, is what happened in the shed earlier. Maybe he knows how confused I am about it, that I haven’t processed it yet.
It’s midnight and the stars are out when Trevor gets up from the chair. He stretches, his t-shirt inside his fleece rising. I glimpse tight muscles and a happy trail. The smirk on his face tells me he caught me ogling him.
“Come here, boy,” whispers the man who is two years younger than me.
I get up and am pulled into a hug. Big arms wrap around my back and I snake mine around his middle. His heart is thumping fast as I rest my head against his ribcage. I don’t quite know how to deal with what is happening, but this hug is too good for me to question my emotions. He leans his cheek on top of my head, and cocooned in his embrace, a contented sigh escapes me.
“You’re something else,” he mumbles. “I… I can’t remember a time when I’ve smiled as much as I do when I’m with you. I’m afraid you have me ensnared. I don’t know if I can let you go.”
I want to tell him I’m caught in the trap too, but that I’m scared and have no idea how to handle it. I don’t say any of that as I tremble, a lump lodged in my throat.
12
Dying Embers
There’s a smile on my face as my eyes open to the early morning light. I tickle Adam until he screams that he’s about to pee himself. Laughing, we race each other down the field to the bathrooms.
“Can I play football with the other kids today?” Adam shouts over the hand dryer.
“Of course you can.” My chest swells with pride as I hold the door open for him.
