Rhys had stayed put in his childhood home after his mother got engaged and ran off to Florida with her boyfriend last fall. Mrs. Lancaster easily found another office-manager job, while her fiancé, Carl, started a new sales position in his company’s Florida office. Rhys hadn’t exactly warmed to the man his mother had chosen to move out of state for—he’d heard Carl belittle her once—but she looked happy enough, and Emerson wished her the best.
Rhys didn’t have any better luck with relationships, but he also didn’t seem to mind staying single. He still worked at the adventure shop, and his newest passion was rock climbing at some of Maine’s national parks. In fact, Emerson found himself admiring the man he had become and wished he could be as charismatic and carefree. Rhys was tall and lean, with muscles in places only scaling tall structures could create, and cognac-colored irises. His dark bangs continually flopped over his eyebrow, and his crooked smile still made Emerson feel instantly better.
He noticed headlights illuminating the driveway across the street, and he watched curiously. Rhys climbed out of the passenger side of the car and waved goodbye to his friend. But the guy stepped out too, then obviously said something funny because Rhys laughed. Emerson nearly rolled his eyes. He knew that flirtatious sound by now, but he’d never been witness to what happened next.
The guy gripped Rhys’s hand and pinned him to the driver’s-side door. His lips devoured Rhys’s neck, and damn, the way Rhys’s fingers clutched the meaty part of the guy’s ass made Emerson’s cock spring to life.
Maybe it was because he hadn’t gotten laid in forever, but something about the scene playing out in front of him was pretty freaking hot.
He zeroed in on the corded muscles in Rhys’s forearms, making his sleeve of tattoos dance, and then his gaze drifted upward to how the guy was attacking his mouth. Fuck. It wasn’t like he hadn’t witnessed Rhys kiss another man over the years, but not quite like this. Rhys’s first crush from the carnival sprang to mind again. How Rhys had blushed, and how upset and confused Emerson had felt. He’d already determined he’d been jealous back then, but this…this was wholly different. This was him getting hard watching his best friend rub up against some guy. His reaction was fucking concerning as hell.
And now he was just being a creeper.
Emerson turned away and stabbed out his roach in the tin can filled with sand he kept in the corner. His whole body flushed. He was so overwhelmed with sensation that he tripped and made a bunch of noise when his foot hit the can and it nearly tipped over.
What in the hell was wrong with him?
“Everything okay?” Rhys’s voice rang out from the bottom of the steps leading to his porch. Emerson had been so lost in his own head, he hadn’t noticed that the guy who’d dropped his friend off had already driven away. Damn it. So much for being stealthy.
“Yeah, of course,” he replied in a hoarse tone, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I just…” Rhys inspected him further as he walked up the steps. “Well, for one, you’re all flushed and sweaty.”
“Jesus.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I, uh, must be coming down with something. I better go inside before I get you sick.”
Rhys’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, no doubt because Emerson was acting strange. “Yeah, okay. I could take your temperature—” His hand reached out to swipe against his forehead, and Emerson trembled. Actually fucking trembled.
“No, it’s okay.” He took a step back and balled his fists, trying to get ahold of himself. “Did you, uh, have a good time?”
Rhys shrugged. “Mostly, yeah.”
Emerson nodded toward the street. “Is that guy someone you…”
“It was only a date that didn’t lead to a hookup. He was cute, but I dunno. Didn’t want to—”
“Could’ve fooled me.” The words sprang from his lips before he could stop them. They sounded accusing and…and hell, he didn’t even know what else.
“Spying on me, huh?” Rhys smirked. “See anything good?”
Emerson’s body heated even as he panicked. What the fuck was happening, and why was his stomach such a mess? “No, I…”
Rhys sobered. “Hey, I was only teasing.” He stared at Emerson for a long moment, as if trying to read something in his expression. “You know, I can always watch the kids while you go out. How long has it been?”
“Nah, it’s all cool.” He winced. “I better get inside before Sam wakes up and—good night!”
He fled inside the house, figuring he could make up a good enough excuse tomorrow if Rhys asked him about it again.
Emerson strode to the sink and gulped down a glass of water, feeling less heated, even though his palms were still clammy. Rhys probably thought he was losing it, except it wouldn’t be anything new. Rhys endlessly worried about him—he could tell by the deep creases in Rhys’s forehead during dinners with him and his siblings, which, come to think of it, had taken place more infrequently the past few months since Rhys had started climbing with a new group he’d connected with. So seeing Rhys with someone new made sense.
It wasn’t like their interests overlapped all that much, unless it involved video games or movies or sitting around shooting the breeze over a beer. They were normally good at that. Just being present in each other’s lives.
The memory of their almost-kiss, as well as the Ferris wheel ride, that confounded Emerson so long ago had seemed worlds away…until tonight when he’d watched Rhys with another man, and it had stirred confusing feelings inside him.
But maybe it made sense. Emerson was essentially a single parent with two kids. Life wasn’t much more exciting than that, and his sex life was crap. His last serious girlfriend had been before the accident, and since then he generally felt numb toward everyone.
Except that had always been the case, if he thought hard enough about it. He’d never been much into sex and dating. He always thought something would eventually click or make sense, but it never did.
Add in the accident that had changed their lives, and Emerson had seemingly expended every last emotion from his body. He felt sort of dead inside.
He had no more to give anyone outside of Audrey and Sam, and he certainly didn’t want to be a burden to a potential date. Besides, he’d have to be home by a certain time to put Sam to bed because he was still scared many nights—mostly that Emerson would leave, but for other reasons as well, like climate change squashing his future plans as a biologist. And he couldn’t expect Aunt Janice to understand or Audrey to comfort her brother by herself. She had worries of her own. She noticed every little detail, it seemed, and carried her emotions close to the surface, though she acted unaffected most of the time.
It was a strange juxtaposition to be their brother as well as their disciplinarian, and he struggled, but thought he’d finally—maybe—gotten it down. Nothing like a crash course in parenting. Sam was too smart for his own good, and sometimes too sensitive, and Audrey was compassionate and occasionally moody, but Emerson also recognized her soul-deep fear that he would die in a terrible accident too.
Sometimes Emerson still felt cheated and would shed angry tears into his pillow late at night that his world had been turned upside down.