“If you don’t want to find out just how far that drop is, shut up.”
Jude stared at me with wide eyes before turning back to Reggie and nodding. “Got it.”
“Good,” Reggie said, and turned to me. “And you, since you’re being useless, get up and be useful.”
“I can do that,” I said, thinking that perhaps assisting him in putting up our tent would be a better use of my skills than making a fire. At the very least, the chances of being worse were low.
“And, Jude?” Reggie continued, his voice dropping low again as I got up to help him.
“Yes?” Jude asked, clearly on guard.
“A marriage, like any relationship, is made and broken by the people in it. Yeah, in cases of abuse that’s one-sided, but in most other things? It takes two to start and end a relationship,”he said, and I wondered if he was thinking of Malcolm’s death. “And unless you’re in that relationship, or have been in the know, it’s hard to say what’s right and wrong. What you need to focus on is the fact that your parents love you, are present in your life, and despite their troubled history with each other, still show respect to each other and work together for your sake. So, either judge your dad for being about as communicative as a statue most of the time, as well as blaming your mom for what she did, or leave them to their business and focus on the parents who love you.”
Jude opened his mouth, then frowned and closed it with a troubled look, but I think it was thoughtful as well. I sighed as I looked at the tent, sidling close to Reggie. “I should have let you take over; you’re better at this than me.”
“Communication is a skill, not a talent. You have to practice,” he said, not sharply but not in his normal gentle tone either.
“Right,” I said, and I could only think how that confirmed he was growing fed up with me. “Was it necessary to friendly fire me, not once, but twice?”
“Utterly and completely,” he said, shoving a mallet into my hands. “Now figure out where the stakes go…and put them in the ground at an angle so they don’t come out easily.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, bending down to get to work before he decided I needed more of an earful.
God, I was going to need to saysomethingto him tonight in the privacy of the tent.
Not that his attitude for the rest of the night was all that inviting. It was Reggie, so once we got the tent up and he was no longer fighting it, his temper dulled. Anyone else might have thought he had calmed down and was back to his normal self, and I wouldn’t have blamed them. He was, by all appearances, his normal, chatty, and joking self.
I, however, could see the way he lapsed into silence when someone wasn’t directly talking to him, and sometimes seemed to struggle to look me in the eye. I would have paid good money to figure out what was going on in his head, only to feel like dirt when I realized there were probably plenty of people who would have said the same thing about me. I didn’t think he was the type to give me a taste of my own medicine; he wasn’t usually spiteful or petty, not for anything serious anyway. That didn’t mean I didn’t see that it was, in fact, still a taste of my own medicine.
Jude too was acting a little strange, but that was harder to categorize. He was eighteen and dealing with a lot, especially after the conversation he and I had, and then the food for thought Reggie had given him. It wasn’t nearly as strange to watch him lapse into silence, or at one point when he sat away from the campsite in what I assumed to be thought. The clearing was fairly large, enough that there would be space for those in the tents to have relative privacy if they were quiet, but close enough that no one would lose sight of the other tents.
I only warned Jude not to leave the clearing and not to turn his back on the woods, but that was all the warning I gave him, and left him in peace. There was no advice I could give Reggie, however, so I just tried to pretend everything was alright as the conversations and laughter slowly died down and sleep crept into everyone’s minds. We weren’t in charge of the men, but Reggie still advised that everyone get to bed soon because the sunlight was not going to respect night owls.
Eventually, they filtered into their tents, where I could hear the low murmur of conversation and snickering, but little else. Jude eventually went to the tent he was staying in with a couple of others, giving Reggie and me a strange look before managing a smile and a wave. There was something in that smile I couldn’t quite place, but he ducked into the tent all the same and leftReggie and me to put out the fire and make sure it stayed that way before we retreated into our tent.
His silence felt impossibly loud as we readied ourselves for bed, slipping into our sleeping bags and turning out the light. I could hear the sounds of the forest, and if I listened closely, I couldjustmake out a soft conversation from the nearest tent. I could also hear Reggie’s breathing, which was even but not deep enough for him to be asleep. In the darkness, that was my only indicator that he was there and still wide awake.
It would be the moment for me to say something, to approach some sort of understanding between us, or at least give him something to work with other than we worked great in bed together.
Except I said nothing, and could feel the minutes ticking by as I lay there, listening to the rest of the camp grow silent, and all I could hear were the insects and Reggie’s continued breathing. Much like Reggie’s silence earlier, the quiet felt as if it had substance, a weight growing with every passing minute, and if I didn’t do something soon, it was going to threaten to overtake and smother me.
I had to gear myself up to open my mouth and speak, even if the words were awkward, bumbling, and not the ones I wanted to use. It was Reggie, so even if I royally fucked up what I wanted to say, maybe it would be enough. Maybe he would still understand and have the patience to peer through what I was saying and find pieces of what Imeant.
My mouth opened and closed as the rustling of Reggie’s sleeping bag interrupted me, followed by the quiet but sharp sound of a zipper. The moonlight, weak as it was right now, was still bright enough that I could make out his outline moving and rustling through his bag. The shadow moved again, and for a moment, I couldn’t make out what was happening until I felta tug at my own sleeping bag, and then I felt the zipper being undone.
“What are you…” I began as I heard more zippers, and then reaching out, I discovered he had zipped our bags together. “They can do that?”
“Yes,” he said softly, and his hand found mine, and that was apparently all he needed in the darkness to find me. “With bags like this, you could probably survive an arctic storm, especially because you can combine them to share body heat.”
“Sounds a little on the warm side,” I said with a low chuckle.
“Probably,” he said, and then he was against me, and before I could say anything else, his nose brushed mine. Then his lips were against mine, his hand tightening over mine, and his other hand curling against my stomach.
I couldn’t decide if the kiss was heated or desperate, and the thought made my chest ache. Our lips parted, and I slid my tongue over his, reaching over to grab him by the waist and draw him closer. One of his legs was thrown over mine, and he closed the last bit of distance. We wore only underwear, and I could feel he was already hard and what little there was to bring to life of my cock was there in an instant.
Damn it all, I was supposed to be talking about us, breaking through my bullshit to talk to him for once, but now I was distracted by his body all over again. Then again, it wasn’t just his body; it was the feverish kiss that somehow stayed quiet, the feel of his cock rubbing against mine, and the lust I could feel growing inside him, and me.
“I think you promised me something,” he said in a low, husky voice that shot straight to my groin. “Going to follow through on that?”
