It made sense at first.
As much sense as it could make.
Jameson studies me closely, still looking far too suspicious. “Be careful.”
“I am being careful. It’s fun. That’s all I need right now.” I keep telling myself that, and it makes sense. Oakley is Oakley. He’s turned into a friend, and that part surprised me more than anything, but that’s it. We’re friends. He’s straight and doesn’t want commitment. I’m gay, and I want something real, but not until I have the rest of my life in line.
I’m saving up for college, and then I’m moving to a college town to get my degree. I can’t have anything tying me to this tiny little town. No small towns for me. I’m going to live in a big city and travel.
That’s not the life Oakley wants.
It’s something Ryan wants. I know that from the conversations we’ve had. He wants to travel and make a good living.
Oakley doesn’t care about that kind of stuff. He wants the simple life.
We’re just having fun.
I’ll just keep reminding myself of that when we’re together, and everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.
We’re. Just. Having. Fun.
TWENTY-ONE
OAKLEY
“Holy fuck. Yes. Right there.” I plow into Travis’s tight heat, listening to the bossy directions I love until his entire body stiffens. My hands are on his hips, pulling his ass back against me as he strangles my cock.
I can’t take it anymore and blow deep inside of him, hoping he’s come too. But if not, I’ll fix it as soon as I can move again. I collapse on his back, and his front falls against the mattress.
“Umph. You’re fucking heavy.”
I smile and nip at his shoulder before rolling off him and onto my back.
He rolls to his side, propping his head up with his hand. “I didn’t say to move.”
I laugh, leaning in and stealing a kiss from him. “Did you come?”
A sly grin crosses his face as pink tinges his cheeks. “Yeah. You also pushed me into the wet spot. Thanks for that.”
I laugh easily, unbothered by his cute little annoyed tone that I know isn’t his actual annoyed tone. I kiss the tip of his nose and then hop off the bed. “Come on. Let’s shower.”
He doesn’t argue with me. We have this down now. Fucking. Shower. Then we hang out. It’s kind of nice.
It’s kind of really fucking nice.
I’m getting used to it, and I think he is too. That should probably freak us both out, but as far as I can tell, it doesn’t.
We shower, both of us getting off again with slow, mutual hand jobs, and then climb out and dry off.
After changing the sheets and both of us pulling on some sweats, we climb back onto my bed and lean against the headboard. I grab my phone, and he grabs his as I pull up my Pinterest app, swiping through suggestions.
I land on a picture of a cool picnic table made out of spare wood. “I could definitely make that.”
Travis leans over, observing my phone. “Yeah, that would look good out in your yard. But do you need a picnic table?”
I shrug. “I could host a picnic.”
He smiles and leans his head on my shoulder, studying the picture again. “Maybe you could do this for a living.”
“What do you mean?” I add the picnic table to my personal board and then keep scrolling through ideas.
“All these cool projects. People would love them in their yards. Not just Garrison and Jameson.”
I shrug, never having thought about that. “Yeah, I seriously doubt it. They just humor me and let me do what I want.”
“That firepit is badass, and you know it,” he says fiercely, sitting up and eyeing me like we’re having an important conversation.
“Uh . . .”
He rolls his eyes at me and pulls his legs into a crisscross position, still facing me. “I’m serious, Oakley. People would pay good money. That porch swing alone would be a bestseller. You could do it.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that. I just did that for me.”
“Right, and you don’t want to share that joy?” He’s smiling and looks really excited, like he’s had a brilliant idea, but I don’t see it. I’m just messing around with these projects. It’s something to do with my free time.
“I’m a landscaper. I like my job.”
“Yeah, I know.” He doesn’t sound disappointed with that fact. Sometimes I wonder if I wanted to go to college like him, if maybe he’d want more with me than just this hookup arrangement we have going. But then I remind myself I don’t want more. That would be crazy.
Just as crazy as me trying to sell my services. That’s insanely crazy.
“And I know you love landscaping, but this would be something you could add to that. I know you love making these things. You could make a really good living.”
“I already do.” Honestly, I’m not sure how much more I’d need. I have everything I could want. My awesome truck that some call rusty but I love. A house I’m renting for now, but it’s not that much a month, and I’m saving to build my own place someday. So what do I need? A retirement fund? I’ll get there.
He huffs, but he’s not annoyed as he settles back down next to me, our shoulders now touching. “I’m just saying, it would be pretty cool. You have a talent. You shouldn’t waste it.”
He seems to really care about this.
“Yeah, I’ve never been all that good at business stuff.”
He lays his head on my shoulder, seeming to let that sink in. Me running a business would be a disaster. And he must come to the same conclusion because he finally drops it, and we go back into our nice, comfortable existence.
My mind keeps going back to what he said about making it a business though. I see so many cool projects I know I could do better. But let’s face it, my yard is only so big, and so is Jameson and Garrison’s.
It would be pretty cool to spread all these projects around, have my designs in people’s backyards.
But I probably shouldn’t think too much about that.
I like my life the way it is right now.
No need to complicate it.
TWENTY-TWO
TRAVIS
“Holy shit, it’s cold.” I laugh at Oakley—this big strong guy—who’s standing outside my door in a big puffy coat, gloves, and a stocking cap pulled down over his head, rubbing his hands together and trying to warm up.
“Well, come on in.” He wastes no time coming into my apartment and hopping around, still trying to warm up.
“Fuck.”
I chuckle. “You going to take your coat off?”
He shakes his head, not making a move to do that. It’s not that cold out. Well, I haven’t been outside today, and I know it’s snowing, but it’s still barely below freezing. Not too bad for November. “We’re going to my parents. Let’s go.”
“What?” I look at him, confused because I thought he was coming over for a little Thanksgiving hookup.
“Come on. Bundle your ass up, and let’s go.”