Only with You (Only Colorado Book 1)

by JD Chambers

  12

  Craig

  Standing on the front porch to Zach and Ben's apartment, bagels and coffees in hand, I'm seriously questioning my sanity. The guy ran out on me last night. If it were anyone else, I'd take the hint, but I can't help feeling that Zach's different. So here I am, preparing to make a fool of myself, on the slight chance that he enjoyed last night as much as I did, despite ditching me during my shower.

  There's no answer for long enough that I'm about to beat it and hope no one saw me here when the door opens a crack. A rough-looking Zach stands in the doorway wearing only pajamas, much like my previous evening's fantasy, except the real version doesn't look like he got much sleep. Well, that makes two of us.

  “Since I didn't get to make you breakfast this morning, I thought delivery would be the next best thing?” I hold up the bag of bagels and try to keep my smile bright while waiting for his reaction.

  He develops a frown along with these little wrinkles between his eyebrows while my words sink in. I replay them in my head. Shit, I'm bordering on weird stalker territory now, aren't I? I'm not used to being this off my game. Zach's got me completely off-balance.

  “How did you know where I lived?” Zach opens the door wider now, allowing me to enter, despite the fact that he probably shouldn’t if he’s asking that question.

  “I texted Ben,” I say, and a grouchy frown briefly transforms his face, though I can’t tell if his displeasure is with me or with Ben. He runs a hand through messy curls, and scratches his head where his fingers get tangled. Maybe he’s always this grumpy when he first wakes up.

  Still, despite his obvious misgivings, he ushers me through the living room toward a small table set up near the kitchen. It's a small apartment, but nice and neat. The living room has an excellent setup for gaming, and incongruently enough a piano. My apparent interest causes Zach to explain, “Ben's,” although I’m not sure which he means. Maybe both.

  “Why are you here?”

  I whip around to face him, and his eyes go wide. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. That sounded so rude. I just meant, after last night,” he sits down and pulls the bag closer to give himself something to fidget with, “I didn't think I'd hear from you again.”

  I hand him his coffee and try not to focus on the shape of his lips as he blows to cool it down.

  “Why not? I had a great time. Oh, unless you … didn't?”

  “No, I did! I had a great time too.” He's quick to say it, but it doesn't explain his behavior last night. After a sip, he blinks with surprise. “You remembered how I like my coffee?”

  It was just coffee with a little creamer, so I shrug.

  “Why are you surprised to see me? Well, other than the fact that I showed up unannounced on your doorstep first thing in the morning like a crazy person.”

  I get a tiny smile from that, but it feels like a much bigger win when he keeps talking.

  “In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little weird.”

  “Quirky,” I interrupt, “but go on.”

  He rolls his eyes and continues. “I don't do a lot of dating. Just, you know …”

  Zach ducks behind his coffee cup as much as possible, and hides what's left behind flopping curls. I can still see the glow of tomato-red cheeks peeking out. How is he this innocent? It's seriously making me want to dirty him up right now, preferably on this table. I gently shake a leg to test its sturdiness.

  “Sex?”

  I only get a nod in return.

  “So you think that’s all I wanted from you?” I try to keep my voice level. He's still hiding behind what is apparently the most interesting cup of coffee on the planet, and I don’t want him to think I’m upset with him. No, I just want to find the ones who made him feel like this and wring their necks.

  Now that his Houdini act is explained, my self-confidence makes a remarkable recovery.

  “Would I risk utter humiliation and rejection by showing up here this morning for someone that was only worth one night?”

  I arch an eyebrow to indicate I expect an answer.

  “Utter humiliation? Really?” he says with a dry voice.

  “What? I was worried you'd think I was a crazy stalker, showing up here this morning.”

  He laughs at that. “Well, I do have 911 already entered into my phone, waiting for me to press send. You know, just in case.” My jaw falling open only makes him laugh harder. Shit, it's a beautiful sound.

  “So what are you doing today?”

  I’m not sure why it’s so important to me, but I have to make sure that he knows I don’t only want him for sex. Although even that is difficult right now, with him shirtless and still a little ruffled and so very pretty.

  “Didn’t really have any plans.”

  “Good, because I have an idea. Go get dressed.” My grin is probably a little too devious given Zach’s skeptical frown, but he moves to comply anyway, first tossing the bagels and cream cheese that we never even touched into the fridge. “Wear shorts,” I call after him, “and hiking boots if you’ve got them.” His steps falter at that last bit, and a strangled sound fades behind his bedroom door.

  Our first stop is the grocery store. Zach waits in the car while I zip inside and pick up a couple of ready-made sandwiches and a couple of pints of healthy protein salads. Next, I plan to run into my apartment for a quick change, but Zach stops me.

  “So your idea for today is to drive me around places and make me sit in a hot car?”

  “I’ll only be a second.” Zach looks seriously unimpressed at my assurance. “I’m afraid if you come up I’ll get distracted. And I’m trying to do this right.”

  It must have been the right thing to say, because he rolls his eyes but waves me on. I change into my hiking clothes, stuff our food into a cooler, grab a backpack, and return to the car in less than five minutes. But instead of looking pleased at my speed, Zach looks confused when I sit down.

  “I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong car,” he says. “I’m waiting for Craig. He’s this gamer guy, fluffy brown hair, a little bit emo, piercing’s the same, though. Weird.”

  My mouth falls open at his description. “I am not emo!”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have called you a frat boy before today either, but …” his voice trails off as he deliberately cruises me from top to bottom.

  I take off the baseball cap that I’ve put on, for protection from the sun, thank you very much, and smack him on the thigh with it.

  “We’re going hiking! What did you want me to wear?”

  He snorts a laugh, then chokes on it as his face pales, my words finally soaking in. “We really are going hiking? I thought maybe you were kidding.”

  “Nope,” I say and pop the p.

  “But gamers aren’t supposed to like the outdoors,” he says, his voice rising in panic.

  “And grown men aren’t supposed to be so whiny.”

  He pouts, and it’s so cute that I can’t resist leaning over to kiss his jutting lower lip. “It will be fun. I promise.”

  Zach’s stomach chooses that moment to growl so loudly that it sounds like an alien is about to burst forth.

  “And I promise to try to feed you again too, since you keep evading my attempts.”

  “You know, polite people would have pretended they hadn't heard that.” Of course Zach is blushing, but he still smacks my arm like it’s all my fault. “And yes, please. Food before physical exertion. I was too nervous this morning to eat the bagels you brought.”

  We head north toward Poudre Canyon, and the farther into the woods we drive, the more Zach chews on his lip.

  “Maybe I should have left a note for Ben. You know, so he’d know where to look for the body.”

  I just shake my head, but he still glances around, like he’s trying to memorize the surroundings in case he has to describe them to the authorities.

  “Is hiking something you do regularly?” he asks.

  “Definitely. I try to go as often as possible wh
en the weather is good. And I love kayaking too, although right now the river is too high to be fun.”

  “Huh.”

  “I take it you don't hike often?”

  He laughs at the thought and smiles, turning in his seat to see my expression. “Not unless you count the stairs to our apartment. I do get winded sometimes, if I have to take them more than once per day.”

  I try to school my shock at his joke. Surely he’s kidding. “You're going to die out here today, aren't you?”

  “Oh yeah. Pretty sure.”

  I squeeze his knee in reassurance. “We'll go slow. I promise I won't give you more than you can handle. I know it will be hard, but I'm positive you can take it.” I waggle my eyebrows at him, and hum with pleasure as his eyes follow my piercing like he wants to trace it with his tongue. I think maybe I need a new one, a lip piercing perhaps, since he seems so fond of this one. And he hasn’t even seen the others.

  We park by the head of the trail, where a few picnic benches are scattered near the riverbank, and I pull out the cooler where I stored our food. His concern only seems to grow as I unpack our lunch.

  “Oh god, you're a health nut too?” Zach says, as if bananas and quinoa were something you’d see on Bizarre Foods. “I'm not so sure about this relationship anymore.”

  I can’t stop the smile on my face at that slip. “Relationship, huh?”

  “No! I mean, that's not what I meant. I was joking about …”

  “Relax.” I grip his shoulders so he can't run away. “I like whatever it is we’re doing here.”

  My hands slide down his arms until I’ve clasped both of his hands in order to draw him closer. I press my lips gently against his, and he relaxes into me. Another angry growl reverberates between us, and I can feel him squirm in embarrassment, but I won’t let go. Instead, I weave my arms around his waist and pull him closer until his tension melts away. Only then do I release him with a smile.

  “Let's get started before your stomach starts to eat itself.”

  13

  Zach

  I'm so stuffed after all the food Craig brought that a walk actually sounds pretty good. Craig packs the cooler back into his car, but keeps out the water bottles, which he stuffs into a backpack and slings across his shoulder. I can’t help but laugh at how he’s suddenly transformed into Mr. Rugged Outdoorsman.

  We start down a trail that meanders through tall grass and wildflowers. The river is close enough to hear the whooshing in the background at the start, and then there is nothing but the sounds of the wind in the trees and reeds and the birds chirping. My rushing brain calms, like my body is unconsciously trying to match the peaceful surroundings. Craig points out butterflies and wild berries and even a few rabbits. I'm not sure how long we've been at it, but we come to a sign at the end of the trail, and I'm about to pronounce myself a hiking god. This wasn't hard at all! I'm a natural!

  “Wow, that was a great hike,” I say, stretching my arms to the side and twisting back and forth. The sun is bright overhead and my hair has started to stick to my forehead and neck. “I can see why you like it so much.”

  Craig's eyebrows bunch together, and he opens then closes his mouth. Finally, he says, “This is the start of the actual trails. We can either go on the longer but easier hike through the meadows, or the more direct hike, but it's steeper. And a lot harder. I'm thinking, given your inexperience, we should stick with the meadows.”

  I frown and look back in the direction we came from. “Then what was that?”

  “That was just the trail that gets us from the parking lot to the trailhead.” His confusion has given way to amusement, and I try not to be offended by the fact that he's obviously biting his lip so that he won't laugh at me.

  “Oh.”

  “But you're doing really well so far.” He rests a sweaty hand on my neck, and I suddenly don't mind the exercise at all. He's close enough that I can smell him, and it’s a sweet tang that makes me want to hold off on hiking and find a rock to lay him out on and lick him all over.

  Craig’s eyes narrow, studying my face, and then he starts to rummage through his pack. My eyes widen at the first aid kit he pulls out, and I wonder what injury I’ve sustained without realizing.

  “Sunscreen,” he says, whipping out a tube from the kit. “Hold still.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to protest that I can do it myself. But then he gently spreads it across my forehead and down my nose, and my words leave. Goosebumps spread along my skin when his fingers trail around the edge of my ears. He notices and blows a thin stream of air behind my ears, causing me to shiver more and him to chuckle.

  “Let's go, babe,” Craig says, all packed up and ready. He swats my ass to get me going, and I can't help the whimper that escapes. “Maybe, if you're really good, there will be a reward at the end.”

  I can't see his face, but I can tell he's smirking. Damn it, hiking and hard-ons really don't mix, but now I can't stop thinking about my reward and hoping that it's a spanking.

  Ten minutes later, I’ve had to wave him over for another stop and sip of water. If Craig thought hiking would be a great time to get to know each other, he seriously overestimated my level of fitness. If I'm going to die, though, at least it's with Craig. I honestly don't remember feeling this comfortable around someone I find attractive. That in and of itself is usually enough to start the nerves back up, but other than some major league blushing, I feel like I can be myself around Craig.

  “It’s all uphill,” I puff.

  “Just the first half,” he teases. “After that, it’s all downhill.”

  I’m too tired to argue, so I flip him the bird, which he seems almost gleeful about.

  We’ve been going noticeably slower the past few minutes, so I think he’s finally figured out that if he doesn’t want to be carrying me at the end, we need to keep at a snail’s pace. He keeps asking me questions, and my breathing has finally steadied enough that I can answer.

  “I came out to my parents my sophomore year of college,” I say in answer to his question about whether I ever came out to my parents after the Ben incident. “I think my mom knew before. Or guessed, once I started hanging out with Ben. She remembered him from orientation, so once we became friends she’d send me emails with all sorts of links.”

  “Like what?” Craig asks with total interest. It’s one of the things I’ve really started to notice on the hike. The way that he questions me and listens to me talk isn’t what I’m used to. I’m used to people asking meaningless questions and zoning out during the answers because it’s what they were supposed to do, not what they were actually interested in doing. I’m beginning to think Craig was being honest when he said he wanted more than just sex.

  “Like articles about why being gay is wrong. Articles about how you should keep your gay friends at a distance so you don’t catch the gay. How to ‘minister’ to your gay friends so they can stop being gay through ‘God’s love.’ Shit like that.”

  “Fuck, and even after all that, you still had the balls to come ou … shh.”

  Craig grabs my hand and crouches down and I mimic his actions. He points to a spot where the meadows start to fade into the tree line. Two baby deer follow after their mother, browsing through the shrubbery for food. I barely fill my lungs with shallow breaths, trying to remain still as we intrude on their family time. The mother is serious about her meal but stays alert with a gracefulness that belies her strength. The babies are too easily distracted, nosing at each other and at her.

  I realize Craig hasn’t released my hand, so I squeeze it, a thank you for this moment. He seems to understand, turning to look at me with shining eyes and a smile filled with wonder.

  Loud crunching coming toward us startles the deer, who dart back into the trees, and Craig and I, who spring up to standing. Hikers who must have gone the opposite direction walk toward us, chatting loudly and scaring away any other wildlife with their ruckus. It reminds me how special what we just saw was, and how lu
cky I am to be here with Craig.

  I watch him adjust his backpack and take a small swallow of water. He pulls off his cap and runs an arm across to mop up his sweat before replacing it. I’m mesmerized by his slow, sure movements, and don’t realize I’ve been caught staring, because crossing his arms across his chest just emphasizes the ripples of his lean muscles. He has to clear his throat for me to drag my gaze to his way-too-smug face. I blush for what I think might be the very first time during the hike.

  “You’re such a puzzle,” Craig says with a shake of his head. “You blush like that with me, but stand up to your mom – who, sorry but sounds like a total bitch – about your sexuality.”

  “It wasn’t exactly on purpose. I wasn’t being brave. I just got tired of her badmouthing Ben and ended up yelling that I was gay too, and that if it was anyone’s fault, it was probably the youth pastor we had when I was twelve, because he was seriously hot.”

  Craig chokes out a laugh. “Oh my god, what did she do?”

  “She came knocking down my dorm door the very next day, with Dr. Henrick, her pastor, in tow. They kept telling me how much they loved me and wanted me to turn my life around for Christ. He might have been more convincing if he hadn’t kept calling me Zeke instead of Zach. But anyway, I told her that if she couldn’t accept me then I didn’t have to come home to visit or call to check in.”

  “See, balls of steel.”

  “She’s still pretty passive-aggressive about it, but I let it slide. So, no, still not that brave.”

  Craig humphs, with a shake of his head, but leaves it there. We’re at a pretty steep part, and I have to put my hands on my knees just to make it up. But now I’ve got thoughts of my mom swirling in my head and I really want to redirect them elsewhere, so at a point when the trail finally levels off a little, I have enough breath to ask Craig, “What about your folks? Are you out to them?”

  “Eh, I grew up in California, so no one cared. It’s where my love of all things outdoors comes from. There was this one river run where my buddy Maddon decided to bring his dog with him. I swear to god, I’ve never been so nervous and entertained, all at the same time.”