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“What the hell?” Liam exclaimed after opening his front door and finding Nick doing his best impression of a drowned rat. “What happened to you?”
“It’s raining, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“You look like you went for a swim.”
“It felt like it. Can I”—Nick looked down at himself—“uh, use your dryer? And you’re gonna have to move your ass so I can get past you.”
“Sure, of course.” Stepping back and letting him inside, Liam peered over Nick’s shoulder. “Not sure it’s going to stop pissing down anytime soon though.”
“A guy can hope.”
Nick’s clothes were heading into the spin cycle and Liam had loaned him a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for the duration. He plopped onto Liam’s couch, not really sure what to do with himself, his body and brain still twitchy from the residual adrenaline running through his veins.
“You need some help?” he called out to Liam.
“Nope. I’ll be right there.”
Liam emerged from his kitchen carrying two steaming mugs of what Nick hoped was hot chocolate.
“Hot chocolate,” Liam confirmed, handing a mug to Nick.
“Thanks. Didn’t think I was going to be taking an outdoor shower today.” He wrapped his fingers around the mug, soaking up its warmth.
Liam sat down next to him, making the cushions sink further. “What were you doing outside anyway?”
Nick had learned early on that he might as well be honest with Liam. Not that he was a habitual liar, but the few times he’d bent the truth, or left information out of something, Liam somehow knew about it anyway. That went all the way back to the first time they met, when Liam had come upon nine-year-old Nick crying on his front porch because he’d forgotten his house key and his parents had decided toteach him a lessonabout responsibility.
“I got into it with Purdy, had to get some fresh air.” He decided not to add that he’d also chased after a random SUV.
Liam sipped his cocoa. “Not sure you can get air any fresher right now.”
Nick waited. There was no way Liam wouldn’t want to know what had set him off.
“What happened?” he asked Nick, a little smile playing across his lips as if he already knew it would be something ridiculous.
“He saw my most recent carving effort and threatened to set it on fire.”
“What?” Liam’s blond eyebrows tried to disappear underneath his unruly hair.
Nick chuckled with pleasure. “Purdy thinks it’s a penis. And no, I didn’t correct him. In fact, I think I’m going to make more of them.”
He was going to carveso many dicks.
Liam laughed. “A penis? How did that happen?”
Of course, Liam would ask that. His carvings were real art and looked like what they were supposed to look like.
“It is supposed to be a toadstool. The start of a toadstool,” he amended.
“But it looks like a dick?” Setting his mug of cocoa on the coffee table, Liam let loose with a deep chuckle while he waited for Nick’s response.
“I suppose so,” Nick conceded, wrinkling his nose. “If you squint at it. Anyway, he said if I didn’t take it down, he was gonna throw it in the fire pit and have a bonfire.”
Liam wasn’t just chuckling now, he was guffawing. Tears streamed from the corner of his eyes and down his cheeks.
“I mean, I was thinking about burning it too,” Nick admitted, “but now I’m going to make hundreds of them. There’s going to be a fairy circle of toadstool penises infesting the front lawn.”
Just thinking about carving dicks galore made Nick as happy as he had been in months, maybe since before the shooting. As soon as the weather cooperated, dicks would be spouting up all over the place. He laughed along with Liam as he envisioned a forest of cock in front of the cabins.
