Page 91 of Pretty ’n Peak

He felt Mateo freeze.

“Austin?” he whispered.

“Good morning. Or maybe afternoon,” Austin replied cheerfully. “Guess I was more tired than I thought.” No reason to lead the boy on. He needed to find the right balance between being comforting and making it clear that their time together was over. “You make a good pillow.”

“Yeah? This is OK?”

Oh, sweet, darling boy. Austin wondered if he was referring to being the big spoon, or falling asleep together, but either way, he was nervous. “It was a lovely nap. I haven’t woken up next to someone in ages.”

Mateo pressed his face into his back, his words muffled. “I haven’t woken up with another guy, ever.”

“That’s right. You were telling me. But I guarantee, as soon as you decide that’s what you’re looking for, there will be Doms flocking to you.”

“Huh.” Did Mateo sound disappointed?

Austin plowed forward anyway. “We should probably get a move on. Do you know what time it is?”

Mateo pulled away, to his secret disappointment. “Almost two. We missed check out.” He flopped back down, pressing their bodies together again.

“Jamie and Sebastian will forgive us. But we should get going. The shuttle’s supposed to drive me back at two. I need to pack my things and maybe beg some food from the kitchen.” He sat up and scooted toward the edge of the bed, hating every moment away from Mateo’s warmth.

They still hadn’t even looked at each other after waking up. But maybe that was easier. He felt around until he found his glasses by the side of the bed, and then his cane.

“I could drive you. I mean, the fastest way back to Woodburn goes straight through Portland. It wouldn’t even be out of the way. And maybe we could pick up some lunch on the road?”

How could he refuse that offer? “You’re sure you don’t mind?” He asked to check, but he already knew what he wanted.

Just a little more time. A few more hours of Mateo’s sunlight and laughter.

To make sure he was alright after their scene, of course.

So that was how he ended up lingering over lunch in a little tucked-away place on the highway, stealing fries off of Mateo’s plate while Mateo ate his onion rings. .

Then belting out showtunes in the truck together, although Mateo had a much better voice.

And trying to say words like mountains in Spanish—montañas—while Mateo laughed at his accent.

And silently thanking the rush hour traffic for giving them a little more time.

Mateo described the scenery that they passed with his colorful words, and even asked if he could stop the car once in front of a mural so he could get a picture with his phone.

“You said you have a show coming up?” Austin asked, when he got back into the truck.

“In three weeks. But like I said, it’s just this little thing at the library.”

“Maybe I could come down and see it,” Austin found himself saying.

He was already justifying it to himself. Friends supported each other. It didn’t mean anything.

Even though going to an art show when he couldn’t see the art was stupid.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He could hear Mateo’s smile. He already knew that lilting voice so well. “If you’re not too busy.”

It was a way out. But Austin knew his schedule. There was nothing on it but work. He was never “busy.”

“We’ll see,” he said lightly.

And then Mateo was pulling up in front of his apartment building.