“Do you still see your grandparents?”
“Orry does. They live together in an assisted living center. I try to visit but mostly I call them on their tablet. At least that way we can at least chat face-to-face. Sort of. It’s just...hard seeing people who were so strong for me weak now. Grandpa had a stroke two years ago, and he has a hard time taking care of himself, and sometimes I feel so fucking selfish for not doing more.”
George’s sad expression hardened slightly, as if his grief was joined by annoyance or anger. Anger at exactly what, Levi could only guess. Himself and his crippling anxiety? His social isolation? But anger was a better emotion sometimes than grief. Anger was more likely to motivate someone to change their situation, while grief often left them resigned to it.
“What more do you see yourself doing in the future?” Levi asked.
“I don’t know. Take a walk around the block without wanting to throw up.” He waved his hand at the cabin. “Come to a Thanksgiving dinner without running out of the room. Honestly, today was a huge step for me. Maybe too huge. But it’s hard not to try and take these huge steps when I’ve been sitting still for so long.” George’s eyes flickered briefly lower on Levi’s face before rising again. “A lot of different steps.”
Had he looked at Levi’s mouth? “George, how old are you?”
“Twenty-three. Why?” A new sort of stubbornness crept into George’s expression. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-four.”
His eyes briefly widened. “You don’t look that old.”
Levi snickered. “Thank you, I think.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply thirty-four is old, you just look younger.” He blushed again, which was kind of adorable. “Shit, I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”
“You aren’t fucking up anything. We’re new friends getting to know each other.” Levi took a chance and gently squeezed his wrist, a brief contact that he shouldn’t have indulged in, because his skin buzzed with awareness.
Even George seemed surprised, staring at his wrist for a long moment before meeting Levi’s gaze again. A new sort of wonder spread across his face, as if he’d discovered something new and amazing through one simple touch. He glanced at Levi’s mouth again. George was so sweet, so innocent, so...kissable.
And probably a damned virgin. Don’t be that guy.
“Are you almost done eating?” Levi asked, desperate to redirect their conversation into something less problematic. He was no saint and not above fucking a near-stranger, but George was special. And not for Levi.
“Um, I guess.” George had a few scraps of his food left but no longer seemed interested in it. And his guard was back up, damn it.
“Do you want pie? They always have a ton of dessert options.”
“No, thanks. Um, do you mind taking my plate? I’m going to take a walk.” George sort of shoved his paper plate and fork at Levi, then scrambled to his feet and began walking toward the tree line behind the house.
Damn it, I fucked up.
Part of Levi wanted to chase after him, but George wasn’t his to chase. They were newish friends who barely knew each other. Levi wanted to get to know him better, but if their single touch was any indication, that could be a bad idea. Or it could be an amazing one.
Only time—and the universe—would tell.
Chapter Three
George strode across the lawn to the back of the property, his face flaming, hands in his pockets, positive he was the biggest idiot on the planet. After years of self-isolation, after years of pretending he had no physical desire or need to touch, because that meant human interaction, he’d managed a real connection to another person. And somehow, he’d fucked it up.
Never in his life had the casual touch of someone else warmed his skin so quickly. It had both scared and excited him, because he liked talking to Levi. Levi was kind, inviting, and he didn’t push. Didn’t ask invasive questions, even though he had to be thinking them. And he was damned attractive.
George had never given much thought to his sexuality, because he’d never had time to date as a teenager. Always busy with practice, tutoring and more practice. Sure, he’d roughhoused a bit in the locker room with other skaters, and enjoyed the physical contact, but that was typical teenage boy stuff. Wasn’t it? He sure as hell hadn’t liked it when Adrian touched him.
Levi’s touch, though? It made George feel something he didn’t understand. Talking to Levi today, hanging around him for over an hour, had been a breath of fresh air in his otherwise stuffy existence, and he wanted that air back. But he’d humiliated himself by trying to flirt, and Levi was definitely not interested.
George wandered near the edge of the forest that made up the back of the cabin’s property. In the far distance, he could see the very peak of the mountain that he remembered from the ghost town. The land up here was absolutely gorgeous, even with the weather easing into winter. Peaceful in its quiet. Completely different from living in the city with its constant noise and people everywhere.
The brush rustled nearby and George froze. He’d wandered a long way from the cabin, and there were wild animals out there in the mountains. Slater had said so. The rustling got closer, and then a small black-and-white creature streaked out from the underbrush. George yelped, terrified it was a skunk about to spray him.
Instead, the cat stopped by his ankles and bumped her head on his leg. George smiled and squatted to pet her. “You must be one of Levi’s kitties.”
She let him scratch her head a few times before swatting him away with one paw. “Hey, sassy britches, you came over to me for pets. Are you Baby, Sporty or, well, I guess you probably aren’t Ginger.”
She meowed at him, then turned and started walking toward the underbrush. George stood, amused when she stopped and looked back at him, as if expecting him to follow. If these cats were smart enough to use a cat door and always come home to Levi at night, maybe he was supposed to follow. Curious, he did. She darted behind a tree, and a few steps into the woods, George heard it.
Yowling. Distant, but he followed the sound and the cat deeper into the woods until he found the source. A striped ginger cat lay on her side, meowing in distress, and at first George couldn’t figure out why. He knelt, heart aching for the poor creature’s obvious pain. Then he noticed the odd angle of one hip, protruding too far from the joint. She must have fallen out of a tree and hurt herself.
“It’s okay, baby, we’ll get you help.” He yanked out his cell and called Orry.
“Dude, why are you calling? Where—what’s that noise?”
“Where’s Levi? I need to talk to him.”