Page 51 of Tracking Wolfe

“No, really,” I insisted. “The same nonprofit that supplied the guitar, actually.”

I wanted to say something else, something that would easily explain how I could afford my rig, like “my parents are wealthy.” But that wasn’t the reason anymore. Fletcher Coe was a multimillionaire, and I didn’t rely on my dads’ money anymore.

It was a source of pride, but one that was much harder to explain.

“I, ah… I also have a business on the side. I don’t really talk about it. It does pretty well.” Hopefully, that was enough explanation.

Jake grinned before leaning in close enough for me to smell his cologne. “Maybe if I distract you thoroughly later, you’ll tell me about it.”

It was flirty and provocative, and I couldn’t help but be flattered.

“Heh.” I ran my hands down the front of my jeans before gesturing through the open door of the van. “So, er, I’d give you a tour, but this is basically it. Bed, kitchen, tiny bath closet, and single dinette table.”

Shay took a seat on the picnic bench and began strumming the new guitar, twisting the tuners on the headstock periodically.

I glanced toward the front of the campground, where the bright orange tent sat. There wasn’t a vehicle at the site, so Trace must have gone somewhere. I’d tried hard not to look in that direction earlier, but now the empty parking pad was all I could see.

Jake nudged my elbow. “So I was thinking maybe I could make you dinner tonight. The bar’s closed since it’s a Sunday, and Shay’s staying at Teeny’s house…”

I glanced at him, my stomach swooping with nerves. “Oh. Shit.”

His smile dimmed. “Oh shit?”

“No. Sorry. I just meant… I already have plans. Here. With everyone. For dinner.” I sounded like an idiot. I took a breath and repeated, “Sorry.”

Jake tilted his head. “You know, if you’re not interested, you can just say that.”

“I’m not not interested. I’m…”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not not interested.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled. “Sorry. I just… There’s a friend of my dads’ in town. The one from this morning, remember? They sent him here to check up on me, and I told him we could do dinner here with my friends before he… leaves.”

Okay, that last part was a lie. But I was grasping at straws and not at my best.

Jake’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh. Does your dad not know you’re into guys? And you’re worried what this guy will think?”

I laughed. “No. My dads, plural, are gay. And Trace is gay, too.”

Jake hesitated before making a noise in his throat. “Ah. That makes more sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants you.” Jake shrugged. “That much is clear.”

His words took me off guard. I croaked, “What?”

“He touched you. Made you uncomfortable.” Jake eyed me carefully. “Has he ever done something inappropriate to you, Will?”

Memories of a couple of hours ago slammed into my mind. The gentle touch of Trace’s fingers on the back of my head. The arch of his back as I pleasured him. The sound of his voice rumbling, baby, baby, in my ears before he came apart.

“No,” I breathed. “Definitely not. Nothing inappropriate.”

I felt like Jake could see right through me. That maybe my cheeks were mottled red with the memory of my encounter with Trace. I scrambled to think of a way to play it off. “I just don’t want my personal business getting back to my dads, that’s all.”

That much was true.

Jake seemed to accept what I was saying as truth. He reached over to squeeze my arm. “Then promise you’ll come to the restaurant for breakfast tomorrow? Let me feed you there, and we can plan something. If the weather’s nice, I can take you up to this overlook I know about. It’s a great hike with killer waterfall views.”