by C. B. Lewis
“What? Acting?”
Philip sniggered. “Sarcasm. You are American after all.”
Sam pushed himself to his feet. “You come into my house? You insult my sarcasm?”
Philip widened his eyes in mock innocence. “I complimented your physique. Surely that counts for something?”
“Between sniffing and licking it all over?”
Philip ducked his head with an unrepentant glint in his eyes. “I’m thorough.” He held out the spoon. “Try this.”
“What is it?”
“God knows. I just threw whatever I could find in. If it tastes okay, we’re eating it, then you’re showing me your bedroom, because I’ll be damned if I’m not having you in a bed at least once.”
Sam looked down at him, amused. “Anyone tell you you’re kinda pushy?”
“All the time,” Philip said cheerfully. He poked the spoon toward Sam. “Now, do I have to ask you again?”
Sam closed his hand around Philip’s on the spoon and tasted the mess of rice, meat, and vegetables. It was pretty good, but he wondered if he would have lied if it hadn’t been. “It’ll do.” He looked Philip up and down. “You going to put something on, or are we going casual and pantsless?”
“Pantsless.” Philip scooped some of the mess from the pan into a bowl. “Saves time later.” He offered Sam the bowl. “Now eat up.”
Several exhilarating and exhausting hours later, Sam stirred in his bed. They had made good use of the time they had, though Sam knew he would be feeling it for days. He was sprawled on his front, his arms wrapped around the pillow under his head.
He squinted in the darkness, frowning. Philip wasn’t beside him. Not that there was much space anyway, but it made him raise his head, peering around the room. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d accidentally kicked a smaller guy out of the bed because he forgot how to share a single.
The mattress shifted between his leg and the wall, and he heard a muffled grunt. A wet nose nudged his leg.
“Philip?” he asked sleepily. “That you?”
A furry body wriggled up the narrow space between him and the wall, tucking in beside him. Philip as a human wouldn’t have fit in the gap, but Philip as a dog could just make it. In the faint moonlight, the spaniel blinked at him.
“I could take the couch,” Sam murmured, laying his head down on his arm. “Let you get some rest.” His lips twitched. “You might need it.”
A paw pressed to his shoulder.
“Want me to stay, huh?”
Philip leaned closer and nuzzled Sam’s cheek, making a soft sound in his throat.
Sam yawned, burying his face back in his arms. “I need a bigger bed.” Philip huffed, curling against his side, his furry muzzle coming to rest on Sam’s back. It should have been weird, but it wasn’t. It was warm and comfortable, and Philip wanted him to be there. Sam’s eyes drifted closed again, but he managed to unfold one arm and pat Philip on the back. “Night.”
His alarm jarred him awake at seven o’clock.
A warm body was draped halfway over him, a leg tucked between his, and an arm hanging over his side. He could feel soft puffs of air against his back and shifted his shoulders. Philip grumbled in protest, nestling closer to him.
“S’morning,” Sam mumbled into the pillow.
“It c’n bugger off,” Philip retorted.
“Can’t.” Sam moved one arm to swat at Philip’s wrist. “Up.”
Philip reluctantly leaned off him, and Sam eased himself upright, sitting up on the edge of the bed. Philip rolled straight into the warm hollow he left in the covers, stealing one of the pillows. “S’too early.”
Sam looked down at him and reached out to ruffle his curls. “Unlike some people, I’m not on vacation.”
Philip cracked one eye open. “You’re going out?”
“Same as yesterday,” Sam confirmed. “I’ll be back as soon as I can be, but the job won’t do itself.”
Philip nodded. “Then we head back to the world?”
Sam got up from the bed. It was the easiest way to ignore the temptation to get back under the warm covers with Philip. “Yeah. Your friends’ll be waiting.” He headed for his drawers to get some fresh clothes.
“So they will.” Philip rolled over in the covers and sighed. “At least I fly home soon. They won’t have time to lecture me properly.”
“Lecture you?” Sam glanced over his shoulder. “You’re a grown man.”
“And they had a search-and-rescue crew out looking for my body in the lake,” Philip admitted. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Lack of communication, not letting them know I was alive, running off into the woods with a strange man. I can imagine they have quite a charge sheet drawn up.”
“And you can’t just tell them,” Sam murmured. “Must be rough.”
Philip looked his way, then grinned. It was bright enough that Sam might have missed the way it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not normally quite so reckless as to go skinny-dipping in a strange place. Don’t worry. Normally, it’s a lot easier than this. Just me and the family, keeping to ourselves.”
Always hiding half of himself. That had to suck.
“Well,” he heard himself saying, “if you’re ever back in this neck of the woods and want to just run wild for a few days….”
This time, the smile did reach Philip’s eyes, creasing his sleepy features. “You might regret saying that.”
Sam picked up his pants. “You’re an easy houseguest. I’ve had a hell of a lot worse.” He snatched a pair of socks. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Get some more sleep if you want. You’ve got time.”
“Sam?”
Sam turned back at the door. “Yeah?”
Philip looked over at him. “Thanks. For all of this. It’s been—nice.”
Sam smiled. “My pleasure.”
He had a brief shower before he headed out into the morning, the air crisp and cool.
For once, the landscape didn’t draw his attention as much as usual, and he knew exactly why. So what if he loitered a little longer at the cabins, waiting for a call from farther down the valley? So what if he was kind of maybe sort of hoping the road was going to be blocked for a little while longer? That didn’t make him a bad person. Kind of selfish, sure, but Philip was pretty good company, if you could deal with the weirdness, and Philip seemed to like him too.
He only headed back in the direction of the cabin after he gave in and put through a call to see if the road was clear. It was, Ashleigh confirmed. She’d tried to call him the night before. He must have been in the shower or something, he lied.
As he drew up outside the cabin, he could see fresh paw prints in the snow. The paw prints turned into bare footprints on the steps to the porch. Sam turned off the engine, looking up at the cabin. It had been a crazy couple of days, it was true, but they were from different worlds, and both of them had lives to be getting on with.
He ran a hand over his face, then climbed out of the car and headed back into the cabin.
Philip was sitting at the table in the kitchenette, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. He offered Sam a brief smile. “Done already?”
“Got a couple of stops on the way down the valley, but yeah.” He leaned against the doorframe. “When you’re ready, we can go.”
Philip set down the mug. “No time like the present,” he declared. “Well past time for me to be out of your hair.”
Most of the journey was made in silence. Sam occasionally pointed out natural features they were passing, but Philip seemed distracted. He was sitting with his elbow propped against the window, his hand cupped over his brow.
After the second stop on the way down the valley, Sam had to pull over. “Are you okay?”
“Me?”
“You’re being kind of quiet.”
Philip smiled one of those blank smiles again. “Just tired, that’s all.”
Sam studied him, then sighed. “You’re a shit liar.”
&
nbsp; “Sometimes.” Philip turned his gaze back out the window again. “I’ll be fine. I’m just not looking forward to what’s waiting for me.”
Sam turned them back onto the road. “Anything I can do?”
Philip laughed quietly. “Apart from everything you’ve already done?” He shook his head. “I can’t ask for more.” The silence fell again, but this time Philip was the one to break it. “Are you going to get another dog?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” Sam admitted. “What happened with the last one was a surprise.”
“Understatement there,” Philip murmured. He took a breath and released it. “If you go back to the shelter, see if they still have the golden retriever. I think they called her Daisy or something. They said her owner had a baby. Couldn’t manage the dog too.”
Sam kept his eyes on the road. “I’ll think about it.”
“Do.” Philip was picking at his nails. “It’s awfully lonely where you are. You should have some kind of company at least.”
Sam looked over at him. “I guess.”
Philip met his eyes. “Good grief, we’re getting maudlin.” He reached for the radio. “You’ll have some peace and quiet, and I’ll go back and finish my studies to find myself a high-paid job with a white coat. No reason for moping.”
“No reason,” Sam agreed as Philip switched on the radio and turned up the volume.
It made things easier to have the music as a distraction. It also gave Philip more ammunition to tease him about his taste in radio stations, which specialized in music from the seventies through to the nineties. Sam ignored him to sing along with Meat Loaf at the top of his voice. He could hear Philip laughing at him, and that was a hell of a lot better than both of them moping all the way into town.
After two songs, Philip was singing along as well.
Neither of them were very good, but what they lacked in talent, they made up for in enthusiasm. Philip even held an imaginary microphone as he took a solo, and air-guitared his way through the rest of it.
“Nerd,” Sam said.
“Kettle black, my friend,” Philip retorted, laughing. “Kettle. Black.”
It was a good note to end on as they approached the town. They made a brief stop, grabbing Philip some shoes from a store, and then Sam headed in the direction of the hotel where Philip’s friends would be expecting them. It was one of the high-class hotels, the kind where people went if they had a country club or went on skiing vacations.
“Nice place.”
“It’s not bad,” Philip agreed, “though the service is appalling.” He ran his thumb along his lower lip. “You could come in for a drink or something if you like?”
Sam glanced at the clock. “I better head back,” he said regretfully. “I don’t want to get caught on the road after dark again.”
Philip leaned over the stick and kissed him suddenly, and Sam couldn’t help leaning in toward him, lifting his hand to run it through Philip’s hair once more. It was brief, urgent, just enough to leave them both breathless.
“Thank you,” Philip murmured against Sam’s lips. “For not being weird about… well, everything.”
“A little weird never hurt anyone.” Sam drew back and groped in his pocket. “Here.” He held out a scrap of paper with his cell phone number on it. “If you ever want to talk to someone outside your family about your… weird stuff.”
Philip’s face lit up. “If you don’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t give it to you if I minded,” Sam pointed out. “Drop me a line, and then I can send you those pictures I took up at the waterfall.”
Philip lunged over and kissed him again. “You are a lovely, lovely man.”
Sam smiled. “Sometimes.” He nodded toward the hotel. “Looks like we have an audience.”
Philip looked over his shoulder at a cluster of people standing by the doorway. “Ah. I’m about to get the bollocking of a lifetime, I think.”
“Just think about the waterfalls?”
Philip’s lips twitched, a glint in his eye. “I was more thinking about the bathroom door, but we’ll see how it goes.” He gave Sam’s hand a last squeeze, then slipped out of the car.
Sam didn’t wait to see if he looked back. It would have been too sentimental.
All the same, the whole drive home, he was thinking about the bathroom door, the den floor, and the bed as well. He made himself some food, then sprawled on the couch, stirring the pasta with a fork. The blankets around him smelled like Philip.
He jabbed a spiral of pasta, frowning at it.
The cabin felt too quiet. It had only been two days of company, but it already felt too quiet. He put the pasta on the table and lay back on the couch, pulling the blankets around him. Maybe, he thought, he should go and see about that dog Philip recommended. He’d gone looking for company through the winter. He still needed to find it.
Another day, though.
Several days went by, and his life fell back into its regular routine. There had been no calls or messages from Philip. Sam didn’t want to admit he was disappointed, but he wasn’t really surprised. Philip probably thought what happened in the mountains could stay in the mountains, once he got back to his everyday life.
Still, he wasn’t wrong about the cabin being lonely.
It was another week before Sam was back in town, but when he went, he dropped by the animal shelter. The shelter staff were surprised to see him again so soon. He made up some bullshit about his dog needing company and took home the golden retriever called Daisy.
She was a sweet-natured, energetic dog, and he had to admit it was kind of comforting to have her pattering around the cabin. When he headed out to work, she would come along with him, and more often than not, they would end up on walks that left them both exhausted. The only place he didn’t take her was up to the waterfall.
“He’d be smug, y’know,” Sam murmured to her one night. He was sprawled on the couch with a book, and she was lying in front of the fire, but lifted her head, pricking up her ears. “He was right about getting you.”
Daisy cocked her head, but when no toys or food were presented, she yawned and curled back down to sleep. Sam watched her for a moment, then turned his attention back to his book.
Winter turned colder, and the snows got deeper.
Sam’s trips to town were further apart. He only went when the roads were clear enough, and came back with enough supplies to last weeks. It had reached the point in the season when even the cabins were empty, and the last stretch of road up to them was almost impassable.
That was why it came as a surprise when he got a call on his cell when he was doing the station three checks.
Normally, he was only called by people in the cabins or by the ranger crews farther down the mountain, but the number was unfamiliar. He recognized the area code as a call from the town and frowned, picking it up.
“Hello?”
A woman was on the other end. “Is this Sam Eastman?”
His frown deepened. “Who is this?”
“Hi, Mr. Eastman. This is Katie from the animal welfare sanctuary. We met when you adopted Daisy.”
Now he recognized the voice. He looked over at his dog, who was wandering around the car, waiting for him. “Is something wrong? Does her old owner want her back?”
“Nothing like that, Mr. Eastman. It’s just a call to let you know your other dog has been found.”
Sam’s heart felt like it did a flip. “Excuse me?”
“Skip? I—we assumed he was still your dog. Your details are the ones on his registration chip?”
Sam felt a stupid-ass grin spreading across his face. “You have him there?”
“Yes, sir. He was found just outside of town by the road this morning. He wasn’t hurt or anything like that, but he looked like he had been running wild.”
“Yeah. He busted out a few days back.” He glanced out the window. It was a bright day, and if he remembered right, the reports from down the valley mentioned clear roads and dec
ent driving conditions for the first time in days. If there was one thing Sam didn’t believe in, it was that kind of coincidence. “I’ll be down to pick him up in a couple of hours.”
He finished what he had to do at the station as quickly as he could, then called Daisy over to load her up in the trunk. She could tell he was pleased about something, because she danced around his legs, barking and yelping in delight as he unlocked the trunk and opened the door.
“I wonder what you’re gonna make of him,” he said as she scrambled up and settled on the blankets, tail wagging enthusiastically. He scratched her behind the ears, then closed the door, and ran around to the front seat.
It wasn’t until he was on his way in the direction of town that he paused to wonder why Philip would be back. It was almost two months since they had met, and Philip hadn’t called or texted once in all that time.
Could be he was just back visiting friends and he’d got wasted again, but what were the chances of him getting wasted on the first day that Sam could make it down on the mountain roads?
“Wait until you get there,” he told himself. “Don’t make up reasons. Ask him when you get there.”
It took over an hour to get as far as town. No matter how fast he wanted to get there, he knew better than to hit the accelerator on the mountain roads. Even in summer it was way too risky. Still, he made pretty good time, and only stopped off once at a clothing store to grab a basic set of clothes and a pair of sneakers.
The animal rescue center was still open, and he could hear Christmas music playing as soon as he got out of the car. His heart was pounding. God, what was he meant to say? Or do? What if Philip wasn’t there to see him?
He retreated to the back of the car. It didn’t make him chicken to need a minute to get himself together.
To his surprise, Daisy was sitting upright in the trunk, her ears down, her eyes on the building. She recognized it, he realized. God, he hadn’t even thought about that. When he opened the door, she shrank back, and he wished he’d thought ahead and left her safely at home.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, offering his hand. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” He dug in his jacket pocket with his other hand and found one of the stash of treats he always kept. She didn’t come closer, so he laid down the treats on the blankets, then closed the door. “You stay here, okay? I’m gonna go get a friend.”
