“Fuck, I caught a fish. This is so cool. Hey, do you think you could take my picture?”
Ethan is practically vibrating; his words coming so fast together, I hope he remembers to breathe.
“Of course. There’s no way this is going undocumented.” Once at the river’s edge, Ethan bends closer. “First, you need to take the hook out of its mouth gently with the pliers. I usually use my fingers unless it’s set in its throat, but you should use the pliers until you’re used to handling hooks.”
“It’s just a tiny hook. I can do it.”
Ethan, the confident person he is, just goes in. His grip on thefish isn’t secure, and when it thrashes, his hand slips, jamming the hook deep into his thumb.
“Fuck, fuck…” Shockingly, he laughs and grips the fish tighter and glances at me. “Take a photo, Colt. Bleeding thumb and all.”
Ethan stays crouched and somehow holds the fish with his thumb still impaled on the hook and the biggest smile on his face. After I take a few photos and hope they turn out, I drop next to Ethan quickly.
“Are you okay?” I ask as I bring the pliers to the hook in his thumb. Thankfully, the hooks on these flies have tiny barbs, but it’s still going to hurt. My pliers grip the shaft of the hook, and Ethan’s gaze holds mine. “I’m fi—” He can’t finish his sentence because in one swift pull, I’ve removed the hook. He looks at his thumb, blood oozing in a steady stream down into his palm.
“Ow! You just pulled it out without telling me.”
“Sometimes that’s easier, and the fish needs to get back into the water.” Taking a step out, I gently wiggle the fish in the water until it flexes its tail and breaks from my grip, swimming away into the water.
Ethan bends to rinse his hand in the river. “I hope you have a first aid kit.”
“Of course I do.” Taking him by the elbow, I lead him up the short embankment toward the horses. “Sit here.” He sits under the tree I’ve placed him at and leans against it with a sigh.
With the small first-aid kit, I crouch in front of him and gently take his hand to have a closer look. “Bigger hooks cause bigger problems when you hook yourself. This one still did some damage, though.” Opening an antiseptic pad, I warn him this time. “This might sting.”
Ethan nods and hisses as the antiseptic hits his wound, and instinctively, I blow on it. His gaze catches mine as I do so. “Why do you blow on it?”
“My mom used to do that when I skinned my knee or hands, or even took off a Band-Aid. It, ah…I guess it made it feel better, so I just always do it.”
A crackling silence settles as I dab an antibiotic ointment on the small wound before applying a bandage.
“Colt?”
“Yeah?”
Is it my imagination, or do we both sound like it’s hard to breathe right now?
“Kisses make me feel better. My mom would kiss the bandage, and I thought that was always the special touch that made the hurt go away.”
Slowly, I bring his wounded thumb to my lips and feather a gentle kiss against the bandage. Ethan’s breath catches, and his throat bobs as he watches me. “More,” he whispers. Turning his palm, I place a kiss there and another on his wrist. His eyes close as his chest heaves, and I shift closer.
“Can I kiss you for real?” I ask, and Ethan’s eyes flutter open.
“If you don’t, I might die,” he laughs, but I don’t see the humor. Just a man who I wish were here longer and who has brought me to life before we’ve even kissed. So I lean forward the rest of the way and press my lips to his.
And my entire world changes.
Chapter 10
Ethan
Colt is kissing me.
Holy shit.
His lips are soft and gentle as he tentatively keeps his lips against mine, asking if more is okay. I return the kiss, and then Colt’s hand is against my cheek, roughened with calluses. His thumb brushes across my skin, sending more shivers through me. I’m…god, I feel like I might have found heaven.
When he pulls back, his gaze on me is a mixture of excitement and fear. A mirror of my emotions.
