AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What am I gonna do?
Chapter Two
Ben
It’s unseasonal for a storm like the one coming through the park, but it’s my job to be ready for anything.
I’ve spent all day notifying campers and hikers to move to a safer location, with everyone who has a permit accounted for so far.
The first few drops of rain are starting, and the breeze has picked up rapidly from a slight chill to a persistent and icy howl.
We’ve sent a warning message to anyone in the area via text message, so anyone with a working phone within fifteen miles of the park has been getting the directive since this morning.
I wouldn’t want to be stuck out in this. I joke to myself, knowing full well I’m gonna be in it, like it or not.
Weather like this, and it being my first weekend off in a long time, it’s just the law of averages and my gut that tells me something’s gonna keep me busy for the next forty-eight.
I’ve got a long drive ahead of me to get back to base, but seeing my own phone light up with Greg’s name makes me smile.
I decide to take five and talk to my best buddy before heading out. As a rule, I never use my phone while driving anyway, even hands-free.
Safety first.
I’ve almost always got time to talk to Greg and hearing his voice usually makes me feel better no matter what kind of day I’m having.
But today something’s off. I can feel it.
“What’s up buddy?” I ask, prepared to give him my ear if he has a problem or something he wants to get off his chest.
He pretends like there’s nothing wrong, asks how I’m doing, mentions he’s just seen the news with the storm warnings for the state.
“Yeah, I’ve been rounding up any stragglers and moving them on. It’s gonna come in real nasty. Wouldn’t want to be caught out in it unprepared, how’s Stacey?” I hear myself ask, wincing a little and wondering if it’s so obvious.
I’ve known her since she was born. Her dad and I are more like brothers than just friends.
But how could I possibly tell him? How can I possibly even have these thoughts? As if she’d even be interested in an older guy like me anyway.
Ever since her graduation, which I missed. I’ve been a little more than just casually interested in how Stacey is doing.
The memory of the video her dad sent me flashes to the front of my mind, her recent graduation ceremony and the dinner afterward.
The thickness of my arousal in my pants tells me enough.
I have more than a casual, passing interest in my best friend’s daughter.
Calling it a crush doesn’t work either.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve played that video, trying harder each time not to feel so bad because I couldn’t be there for her.
Trying even harder not to free my aching dick from my pants every time I see her in her gown, in that white dress she wore after the ceremony.
I shift in my seat, letting my newfound hardness sit more comfortably, but it’s hopeless.
Just the mention of her name sets me off these days.
That video playing in my mind.
Her thick chest filling her gown, the way it hugged her hips like I wish my hands could.
Her sweet round face, her slightly freckled button nose with those huge blue eyes that light up the whole room when she smiles.
I’m not sure if I let it out or don’t, but I feel a low moan from someplace deep inside me, longing to hold her like she deserves to be held.
Tracing my fingers through her long blond hair.
The silence is obvious, and for a moment I think Greg’s call must’ve dropped.
“Greg? Buddy?” I ask, hearing his long sigh from the other end as he blows air out from his cheeks.
I feel my hand tremble a little, my heart in my throat, and my pounding pulse filling my pants with an iron bar.
The kind of hardness I’ve only ever felt when I think about Stacey.
“It’s why I’m calling you Ben. It’s about Stacey,” her dad tells me, shifting my mood from longing, lusting after his only daughter, to something else.
I feel my stomach drop like I’ve been winded. Maybe he knows?
How could he possibly know? Hell, Stacey doesn’t even know how I feel about her.
The void in my belly starts to knot with worry now.
If anything’s happened to Stacey...
“What is it, Greg? Talk to me,” I tell him gruffly, not meaning to sound so harsh but I can’t stand this not knowing.
Can’t stand not being able to see her when I want.
Can’t stand not being able to shut off thinking about her.
“I called the car rental company, and they said her car’s tracker shows she’s not far from the National Park entrance off Highway one,” he tells me, his voice croaking with emotion.
