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“Not many more nights left like this,” Porter says. He’s looking at the stars, seemingly talking about the beautiful fall weather, but I have this sinking feeling he’s referring to us.
I take his hand, and he helps me stand. “Then I guess we better take advantage of them.”
I grab the telescope, he lifts the blanket, and we begin our trek back to reality.
I feel an ache in my chest that makes me wish for other things—more openness and privacy but for starkly different reasons.
“I’m gonna show you something one of these nights.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud and with such conviction, but an idea begins forming in my head that I can picture so clearly.
Porter smirks. “Was that a command or a question?”
“What do you want it to be?” I tease.
“Don’t tempt me, or I will throw you over my shoulder, take you to the bunkhouse, and fuck you right there in front of everyone. Show ’em how good we are together.”
My cock stiffens, and I feel dizzy with desire. I groan and grip his fingers. He knows I would never want any such thing, but when he says it filthy like that, I absolutely do, with him.
Our hands break apart as we near the back of the house and hear Mom’s and Pixie’s voices carrying from the porch.
“Where have you two been?” Mom asks as we round the corner. “You’re all flushed. The temperature did just take a dip.”
“Sure did.” I refuse to look at Porter. “That’s why we decided to head back in.”
“I told you, they were looking at the stars,” Pixie says, then glances at Porter. “Did Mr. Bishop teach you more about the constellations?”
“Uh-huh,” he mutters, and I can feel his discomfort because it’s the same as mine.
Mom is studying us closely, and I wonder what she thinks we were up to if it wasn’t the stars. That same fear rises like acid in my throat, but I swallow it down. She’s the one who encouraged me to rekindle my friendship with Porter. No way I want her to guess anything by accident, not before I come out on my own terms, so we sure as shit need to be more careful.
But I’m so tired of hiding and all the anxiety that comes with it. I’m so close to blurting everything out, my stomach sours.
“Why are you two out here?” Porter asks, and I focus on Mom’s foot grazing the floorboards as the bench swings.
Mom’s eyes meet mine. “Pixie couldn’t sleep.” Ever so slightly she gestures with her chin toward the bunkhouse. Pixie obviously has a sixth sense about her dad and probably didn’t believe the white lie Porter told her. In many ways, she’s old beyond her years, and I hate to think why.
“How about I read to you?” I suggest.
Pixie claps excitedly. “Yes, please. Treasure Island again?”
She’d found it on a shelf and begged to read it together. It started with us taking turns each page, then me reading to her for long stretches. I don’t mind it, especially if she doesn’t get it from her dad very often.
When I finally look at Porter, he lifts his hand in a wave. “Well, then, good night.”
I can see the melancholy in his expression, and as he walks away, I want to run after him.
Instead, I climb the porch steps.
Pixie must also sense Porter’s mood because her voice rings out. “Want to read with us too, Mr. Porter?”
His eyes momentarily spring to mine. “That’s all right, darling. I need my beauty sleep, and so do you.”
“But Sul—I mean Mr. Bishop’s reading always puts me to sleep, so maybe it’ll work for you too.”
“Thanks a lot.” I playfully grab her and throw her over my shoulder as she squeals. That’s enough of a distraction for me to skirt Mom’s scrutiny and for Porter to make his escape.
Chapter 26
Porter
