Page 102 of See My Words

Scott snorted, reaching down to give Rylan’s ass a sharp smack. “Glad you clarified that. And yes to both, including the ‘beautiful man.’ The only caveat?” He put his lips to Rylan’s ear. “I get to suck your dick if I want.”

“Well, yeah, that’s a given.” Rylan grabbed Scott’s hand and towed him toward the stairs and the bedroom. Once there, they wrestled each other out of their wet, sticky clothes, stumbling into the bathroom, kissing, hands roaming. Scott got the shower going while Rylan dug his toothbrush out of his travel kit.

As Rylan brushed his teeth, Scott made a nuisance of himself, wrapping his arms around Rylan’s waist from behind, biting his neck.

“What’s all this?”

Scott froze in the act of giving Rylan a hickey to match the one on the other side, lifting his head warily. “What’s all what?”

Rylan waved his hand at several little pieces of paper taped along the edges of the mirror, and Scott could feel himself flushing beet red. He’d forgotten those were there. “Um…”

Rylan stretched up on his tiptoes to read one. “I acknowledge that the only constant in life is change, and I’m prepared for it.” He tilted his head to read another one. “I’m confident about solving life’s problems successfully.”

There were at least eight others, and Scott mouthed them silently along with Rylan as he read each one aloud. Rylan turned in his arms. “Positive affirmations. What a wonderful idea,” he said, his tone soft and sincere. “Why are you so embarrassed?”

Scott shrugged, not meeting Rylan’s eyes. “It’s just—I don’t know. So corny, right? Such New Age-y shit.”

“No, it isn’t. You don’t really think that, or else you wouldn’t have them up here.”

Scott didn’t answer, just tugged Rylan into the shower with him and closed the door. They soaped up in silence until Scott finally said, “Dawn’s uncle, the one who plays the flute?” When Rylan nodded encouragingly, he went on, “He’s a sort of local shaman, although he prefers to call himself a Ceremonial Life Coach.”

“So you and Dawn are close?” Rylan’s voice was neutral, relaxed, but Scott still cupped the back of his neck and pulled him in for a hard kiss.

“Yeah. She’s become a good friend, Ry. Just a friend,” he emphasized, not feeling the need to go into the fact that yes, there’d been some awkwardness at first, much like there was now with Joy, but it hadn’t taken them long to get past it. “We work together, that’s all.”

A subtle look of relief passed over Rylan’s face, and Scott kissed him again before turning into the spray to wash his hair. When he was finished, he grabbed the bodywash and pulled Rylan back against him, running soapy hands over his chest and belly.

“Anyway,” Scott said hoarsely, dancing his fingers along Rylan’s navel and just below, Rylan’s quiet groan making his own balls tingle. “I’ve spent a lot of time with her uncle, hiking, talking. We went camping once and did this sort of sweat lodge ritual thing.”

“Really?” Rylan turned in his arms, his eyes bright with curiosity. “I’d have loved to photograph that.”

Scott chuckled. “It’s sacred and private, Ry. He and my other friend, Pedro, are big believers in this area being a conduit for metaphysical energy and psychic healing.” He thought of the hours spent with Dawn’s uncle, their nights under the stars. “I don’t know how to explain it—”

“You don’t have to explain it, Scott,” Rylan said gently, “if it’s private. All I know is you seem more at peace than I’ve ever seen you, and how you got there doesn’t matter.”

It did, though.

He took Rylan’s shoulders in his hands. “I know you’re tired, but will you go somewhere with me?”

“Anywhere.”

After rinsing quickly, they stepped out of the shower and grabbed their towels. Rylan took his turn with Scott’s blow-dryer, and they got dressed, Scott handing Rylan a fleece pullover.

“There’s some extra gloves downstairs in the mud room.”

“I take it we’re not driving to wherever this is?” Rylan asked ruefully.

“Nope. Gonna hike, baby. Get that blood pumpin’.”

Rylan cast a look of longing toward the bed. “I can think of other ways to do that, too. But lead on.”

Before they headed downstairs, Scott stopped in the doorway. “Would you mind terribly if I asked you not to bring your camera?” He shrugged self-consciously as he mumbled, “Just don’t wanna share you with the scenery today.”

Rylan smiled. “Left it at Minh’s,” he replied softly. “I wanted this weekend to be our time.”

At that, Scott couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.

As they ambled down the driveway a few minutes later, Rylan turned to him, surprise in his tone, “You got rid of the Beemer?”