Of course, they couldn’t just leave in that instant. Maybe in their college days they could have dropped everything and hit the road with only a map in the glovebox and some actually palatable coffee at hand, but those days were over. Responsible adults didn’t just jump ship, especially not after causing problems doing just that earlier in the day.

It was easier for Dylan. The garage would survive without him, and he already did most of his business over the phone, anyway. All he had to do was make it known that he was going to be out of town and voila, he could leave.

Ryan didn’t have it quite so easy. His business wouldn’t survive without him there because he was the business. It seemed that not a day went by without his secretary scolding him, saying he should find a partner to shoulder some of this work before he broke his own back with it, but there were a couple problems with that. He worked better alone, and there wasn’t really anyone else in the area to bring into the company. Not only that, but he felt it would be a little unfair. He had climbed the corporate ladder very quickly out of sheer hard work. Newbie lawyers were plentiful and often struggled to break into the job world, but he had played the game and managed to land a temporary gig handling some small-time cases that no one else wanted to tackle. He went at it with fervor, tackling everything as if it was the most important thing to accomplish in the entire world. After only a few short years, he made partner, then senior partner, and then branched off on his own.

All of that was his own doing.

If he brought someone else into his company, they would have access to his reputation. They wouldn’t have to build their own any further because they’d be riding on his. That was like cheating, and it was damn sure like undermining his own worth.

So, he was all on his lonesome handling cases, and he had to finish with what was on his plate before he could go anywhere. With these sort of things, a guy had to keep the momentum going or he’d come back to find all the progress he’d made had been undone by something like a sidelong glance, or an offhanded remark.

He was lucky in that his current clients were eager to reach a decision. His next round of cases could wait a few days while he took a “vacation.”

As he locked up the office that final night, more than two weeks after Dylan agreed to go with him, Ryan touched the wall of his office building and thanked his lucky stars that some people had common sense. As a lawyer, he did his damnedest to make sure people did what was best for them or else it would all come back to bite him in the end. If his clients had wanted things contrary to what was best for them, there was no telling how much longer this all would have taken.

But he was free now. He could head home to pack and get a good night’s sleep, then head out in the morning as soon as Dylan arrived. That would be Friday. They would be coming back on Monday, and presumably the whole world would be in its rightful place come Tuesday so they could both get back to work.

Sliding his key into his pocket, Ryan gave his office another pat and headed for his truck. Sliding behind the wheel, he breathed deeply the scent of leather and let it soothe his nerves. Despite this attempt to calm down, he still felt a tingling nervousness deep in the back of his throat, buzzing in his veins. He’d been feeling this way ever since he made the decision to go to the wishing well out at that orchard. If he’d been hoping that bringing Dylan along would help calm him down, he’d been sadly mistaken. Whenever they were together, or even just speaking to one another, he could feel Dylan’s agitation like needles jabbing at his skin.

Ryan drove home and slept badly. Each time he woke up, he reached for his phone to call this whole stupid thing off. Doubts plagued him, turning his dreams into weird visions that bordered on nightmarish. Looking into the well would reveal a truth to him that he was only desperate for in the moments when he was feeling down. That didn’t make this right. He knew he wasn’t ready for whatever change was about to come his way.

But as pack leader, it was his responsibility to know what he had gotten himself into. His knowledge of the well was the result of mere happenstance, a passing mention from one wolf to another, and he had gone and forced it on an innocent without checking into it himself. Hell, he hadn’t even believed it was real!

He still didn’t.

But if it was?

There was no telling what he might see.

And there was no denying that Dylan also intended to look into the well. Question was, could he allow that?

When morning came and he still had no answers, he fetched the suitcase he’d packed the night before and tossed it into the truck. His stomach churned anxiously despite his attempts to drown it with food and coffee. By the time Dylan arrived, he was pacing around the living room. The wolf inside him felt caged, begging to be freed from this prison. He wanted to drop down to his paws and run for an eternity, just run and run until he left this world behind. Animals were never as uncertain as this because they had no conscience, no doubts so strong it could overcome even instinct.

For the first time, he understood why that was.

The doorbell rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin, heart slamming up into his throat. He panted a little and then swallowed hard, grasping for calm.

“Ryan?” Dylan called, voice soft and muffled from behind the door.

Ryan looked up at the ceiling, wished he was a praying man, and then headed to the door. Dylan smiled at him from where he stood on the porch, and his face seemed to be shining like the north star, guiding him towards something important. For a moment, Ryan thought he could see a glimpse of something but then Dylan shifted on his feet and the illusion faded. Whatever he’d seen, it must not have been very important after all.

Sure had gotten him excited, though. If there was one thing that was annoying about being a man, it was getting erections whenever his heart beat just a little faster than normal.

He could only hope that Dylan didn’t notice and didn’t feel it through that bond they shared as lifelong friends. It wasn’t as powerful of a bond as it would have been between mates—he couldn’t pick up on Dylan’s thoughts, for example—but they were both acutely aware of the other’s emotions. Ryan just had to hope that “horny” wasn’t an emotion that translated well over their link.

“You ready to go?” Dylan asked.

“Already got my luggage in the truck. What about you? Ready?”

Dylan snorted a little, looking indignant. “I’ve been ready. Let’s go look in some wishing wells. It’s about time you got a mate, anyway.”

He didn’t know what to make of the undertone to that statement, but it seemed dangerous in a whole lot of ways.

Dylan fetched his own suitcase from his car. The outside of the car was plain and black, with a dull matte shine. It was one of those sorts of vehicles that wasn’t at once identifiable unless the person looking at it was really into cars. However, under the hood was an entirely different matter. The thing ran like a sports car, completely belying its unimpressive exterior. Dylan had done all that work himself, and Ryan knew he was proud of his craftsmanship.

The suitcase Dylan was toting up the driveway was nearly twice the size of Ryan’s and still seemed to be bulging at the edges, as if it might simply explode at some point while they were driving.

“What the hell do you have in there? Your kid?”

“Very funny,” Dylan growled. For some reason, being growled at made a shiver run down Ryan’s spine. It was almost like a trickle of fear but not quite. “I pack to be prepared.”

“What you’re telling me is you think the world is going to end at some point while we’re on our way to Abingdon. And you’re going to be the only one who survives because you’re carrying a fridge around.”

A smile played around the corners of Dylan’s lips. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“I should at least get some of your supplies since you’re using my truck to tote it around.”

“I’ve got freeze dried ice cream.”

“Great,” Ryan groaned. He checked again that his front door was locked, because a man could never be too certain. A bitter divorcee just might decide to come out of the woodwork while he was gone with the intention of making a real mess of things. “That shit is like chalk.”

“You’d be a shitty astronaut.” Dylan stowed the suitcase in the truck and then slammed the door. Ryan winced. Dylan glanced at him, opened the door, and then shut it again more gently.

“What do you think would happen if they put a werewolf on the moon?” Ryan climbed into his truck and started it up. Dylan joined him, making a great show of putting on his seatbelt.

“I’ve heard this joke before,” Dylan said.

“You haven’t.” Ryan backed out of the driveway slowly.

“I have. You know, just because you’ve finally discovered the internet doesn’t mean other people haven’t.”

“Are you saying I stole this joke from online?”

“Yes.” Dylan nodded.

Ryan shrugged. “Guilty.”

They settled into a companionable silence while driving through Portsmouth. It was the hallmark of true friends, to be able to spend time together without ever saying a single word.

The traffic was exactly as abominable as it was on any other Friday, but there was something about Dylan’s presence that made it all a little more bearable for Ryan. It was almost like when they were teens again and had just gotten their licenses. Those nights were some of the best he could ever remember, taking turns just driving anywhere the road would take them until night moved in across the sky. Sometimes they were far enough away from the city to be able to see the stars emerge, glittering and tentative.

“Do you remember when...”

“Hey, do you...”

They stopped and looked at each other and then laughed.

“Yes,” Dylan said. “I remember. Your parents used to get so worried. Like they thought we’d just drive off together and never come back.”

Ryan nodded his agreement, keeping his eyes on the road. The streets were crowded with shoppers despite the extreme cold and the early hour. Most of them were bundled in so many layers that it was hard to tell who was male and who was female. “I never understood why they were so worried about me.”

“I think they were more worried about me.”

This hadn’t ever occurred to him. “Well then, they were being dumb. As long as I’m around, I’ll always protect you. I always have, right?”

“Most of the time.”

Ryan laughed, instantly knowing what that was referring to. “I’m not a mind reader. How was I supposed to know you were going to grab that girl’s tit right in front of her boyfriend? Serves you right to get slugged in the face. You looked pretty good with a black eye, though.”

Dylan scowled at him. “I tripped. It was an accident!” Then, his voice grew much softer. “That’s not what I was referring to, anyway.”

That last statement had a private sort of feel about it, as if it was something he should just let go instead of asking for clarification. That was what he did, and the silence descended once more.

As soon as they left Portsmouth, the highway greeted them with its luxurious stretches of green that continued on and on for an eternity. Ryan sighed, relaxing deeply. This was his element. Smooth roads, smooth skies, the same sight for miles on end. This was when he could truly let go of all that was bothering him, to just let his mind drift. In fact, if it was just him he wouldn’t have had the radio on or anything, but he knew that Dylan liked a bit of background noise to go with his silence.

Ryan remembered how he felt recently, the loneliness which had seeped into his body with the quiet inside his house, and thought he could understand that.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Dylan suddenly sighed and tossed his phone into the back seat. The device bounced against their suitcases before clattering to rest on the floor. “That’s enough of that,” he said.

Ryan glanced at him. “Trouble?”

“You could call it that, yeah.”

“The shop?”

“Hardly. I already checked there. The guys have everything under control. No, it’s Arden.”

It’s always Arden, in one way or another.

Some selfish part of him wanted to be annoyed at the constant disruptions Dylan’s ex-wife caused, especially when it could ruin a trip meant specifically to get away from those kind of annoyances, but Ryan restrained that impulse. Like it or not, that was a very important part of his best friend’s life, and he had to accept it no matter how much he hated it. That she-wolf needed someone to put her in her place.

“What’s she doing now?”

“Are you annoyed?” Dylan asked, a little hesitant.

Ryan shook his head. “Only for you, Dilly. You’re supposed to be relaxing. You need it. You’re starting to act like one of those prissy omegas who can’t stand to have their hands dirty.”

Dylan stared at him, his eyes gone as sharp as ice, and then he held up his hands. Though he had clearly showered since the last time he worked, there were still black smudges caught in the creases on his skin. “Trust me, I’m not turning into one of those.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

Ryan found his thoughts lingering on the idea of Dylan in the shower. He hadn’t ever thought of his friend in that capacity before, especially not with the detail he was imagining it now, and the whole thing made him feel very confused. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten hung up on some aspect of his best friend’s life, unable to quit thinking about it for some reason, and it always left him feeling odd, a little tense. He’d had other friends growing up, but those had been superficial and born of happenstance. There was no one he had been interested in maintaining a relationship with except for Dylan, and that meant he now had no other adult friends.

And he was the alpha. He gave advice and didn’t ask for it. That meant there was no one he could go to for a clarification on whether it was okay for friends to have such deep thoughts about each other. Assuming Dylan had the same kind of thoughts, that was.

Dylan had moved on to talking about Arden and Ryan hadn’t been paying attention.

“I told her that I was going to be going on this trip with you. Just in case we go missing or get in a wreck or something, right?”

There was now an unusually long pause after that question because Ryan had been lost in his own thoughts. He replied now, feeling a little guilty for the lapse. “Right. Makes sense to me.”

If Dylan noticed his delay, he pretended not to.

“She seemed really impatient to just get me off the phone, like she had something way more important to do. And I asked to speak to Hunter but she wouldn’t let me.”

“I think that’s illegal,” Ryan said. It sounded funny coming from him, for the divorce lawyer to be unclear on this aspect of a divorce, but he hadn’t been involved in the legal proceedings of Dylan’s divorce as much as he would have liked to be. It was a conflict of interest, and even if he didn’t make his involvement public, future clients could still find out about it with only a little digging. And even if they didn’t...It would have just been dishonest.

In the end, whether it was illegal or not really came down to the specific terms in their individual divorce contract.

“She said he was busy playing, but that’s never been a problem before. Normally he loves to talk to me. It makes me wonder if she was lying to me, or if she’s told him something about me that makes him not want to see me.”

“Now, that would be illegal.” He didn’t need to have read their contract to know that the members of the divorced party were strictly prohibited from planting false ideas about the other in their child’s head.

“But I didn’t want to argue with her so I just let it go,” Dylan sighed. He rubbed his face with his hands. “Sometimes I wish we were still back in the arguing stage. At least it meant we cared. Now there’s just this apathy. It feels like something died.”

Ryan’s heart ached for him, in much the same way as a sore tooth would: throbbing constantly, with occasional sharp jabs. “So, what happened just now?”

“Apparently she rang me at the shop for whatever reason. I don’t know why. She never calls me there. She didn’t say why, either. Then she tried me at my apartment but obviously I’m not there either. So, then she texts me. I read the first one where she explained all that, and I just gave up. I don’t have the patience for her right now.”

“Maybe you need to revisit that case, Dylan. Go back to the judge. Get your lawyer on the phone. This doesn’t sound good. I’d hate for you to lose touch with Hunter entirely.”

He regretted saying it. Dylan flinched, and the resultant bolt of pain was enough to make both of them grimace.

“I won’t let that happen,” Dylan whispered. “Somehow. I need him.”

Ryan couldn’t even imagine what it would be like, to have a son and then to lose him. Quietly, he made the same vow. As long as he was alive, he would make sure that Dylan never lost touch with his son.

When the silence between them descended again, it seemed particularly heavy now instead of relaxing. Over the radio, some pop singer was caterwauling about her best memory. Ryan wondered what Dylan’s best memory was.

He wondered what his own was.

And it came to mind, unwelcome, unbidden. Even drunk and lonely, he hadn’t dared think of this, but it was in his thoughts now and he couldn’t escape it. It was the mistake they made together that night so long ago. The mistake, the fluke, the accidental kiss. Drunk out of their minds on cheap, discounted cocktails at their favorite bar, hazy with the remnants of a dozen different flavors of syrup and soda. Ryan had tasted each drink he had all over again whenever he breathed, forming a concoction that would surely get a passerby drunk too if they walked through the vapors.

Dylan was at his side, because Dylan was always at his side. They had somehow wound up near a rollerblading court at a park, though for the life of him Ryan had never been able to remember what park. They were inside the rink, sitting on their asses on cold concrete, their backs pressed uncomfortably against the bars which would prevent a stray rollerblading child from soaring off into the bushes several feet below.

“I’m so dizzy,” Dylan had whispered. He slumped sideways, leaning heavily against Ryan. He had smelled so good, so alive, so...ripe.

Ryan had turned his face towards Dylan to echo the sentiment, to reassure his best friend that he, too, was dizzy, and their mouths knocked together. Apparently, they had both been about to speak and had therefore collided in the middle. Their eyes locked, blue-green to green, two colliding seas that mingled without merging. Something seemed to pass between them that neither one could understand, some understanding, as if a decision had been made without either one knowing.

Through it all, their lips still touched. Ryan tasted Dylan’s breath, tasted alcohol and sweetness, and he hadn’t been able to resist. His inhibitions were down and his control was nowhere to be found, so he had done what seemed natural and pressed his advantage. He shifted on the cold concrete to settle their lips more firmly together. Dylan’s mouth parted beneath his and his booze-drenched tongue slid out to push at Ryan’s, teasing him before drawing away. Again and again with the teasing until he sent his own tongue to follow Dylan’s deep into that cavern of sweet wetness. Their mouths played together, heat seeking heat, exploring a place that suddenly seemed more intimate than ever before.

When they finally drew back from each other, shuddering for breath, Ryan stared at his friend. There was no confusion in his mind, only a feeling of absolute certainty, as if this was meant to be and should have happened sooner.

“Oops,” Dylan had whispered, then giggled.

Ryan searched for the words to convey what he was feeling, but his thoughts were muddled and they wouldn’t come. Nothing would have seemed adequate, anyway. There were some things which just didn’t translate well from thought to voice, as if some bit of nuance was lost along the way. “I’ve never been kissed like that before,” was all that managed to come. And that was fine, that was all good and well, but it didn’t capture the real meaning.

He had been kissed like this before, in this exact same manner, by others both sober and drunk. He’d had it worse and had it better, but it wasn’t the physical act that he was referring to. It wasn’t the pulses of pleasure shivering through his entire being, striking the very core of himself. The feelings ran deeper than that, making his very thoughts tingle. He felt completed and yet suddenly hollow, aching for more of the same. Yet, he didn’t want to rush this. He didn’t want to get to the point and have it be done with. He wanted it to last, to savor it all.

“I can do other stuff, too,” Dylan said. “Want me to show you?”

And they had done the other stuff, filling the park with the echoes of their groans until at last there was nothing else that could be done. As they were straightening their clothes, a police cruiser drove slowly by. Ryan couldn’t recall now if the cop within the car had even noticed them or if they just ran away automatically, laughing and clutching at each other until they made it back to their cars in the bar parking lot. One more sloppy kiss was exchanged, and then they went their separate ways.

But Ryan didn’t think any of that was his best memory, as fantastic as it had been. No, that had come later, after he made it back to the cramped apartment where he was living at the time. Falling into bed, he smiled against his pillow and let his thoughts wander through a wonderland of possibilities where the future was wide open and anything could happen. Everything seemed so perfect, so right. Why wouldn’t he be attracted to the man who had been by his side through thick and thin? It was so obvious.

Then, once morning came, nothing had changed and everything had fallen by the wayside. A night of drunken pleasure didn’t mean anything. Dylan didn’t say anything, which meant Ryan could only assume the other man didn’t remember or didn’t care to remember. Both options were equally heartbreaking, so he pushed the thoughts of that night to the very back of his mind where they could only emerge again when his guard was down. As time went on, doing so became easier and he hardly ever thought of what they’d done. Hell, the fact that Dylan was so quick to find a mate afterwards proved that what happened between them wasn’t meant to be continued.

Why am I thinking about it so much?

Even as he thought the question, he knew the answer. He had always thought about it, on and off, before shoving it out of sight again. This was just another of those times when fate brought everything into such a light that it couldn’t be avoided. It was the wishing well, he was certain. What he was about to do was bringing up memories of what he had done. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to avoid them any longer.

“Ryan!”

“Huh!” He snapped back into reality just in time to realize that he was drifting over onto the other side of the highway where cars were coming from the opposite direction. His front wheel had already crossed the line and the back was on the verge of following. Coming in the distance, approaching rapidly, was a semi-truck. He could see the driver through the big front window, saw their face contorted with terror.

If he was human, he might not have been able to react. There was time—just barely—but humans tended to freeze from shock unless they had that habit trained out of them. Shapeshifters were different. Animals lived on the edge between life and death where a single heartbeat’s length of hesitation could skew the results irrevocably in one direction. Instincts were the name of the game.

Ryan acted on instinct now, yanking the wheel hard over to right while also letting off the gas. The truck was slower to react than another vehicle might have been, but the semi blazed past without so much as knocking the mirror. It was close, though. In his peripheral vision, he could see the miniscule scratches and scrapes on the semi’s blue paint. They were only a few inches apart.

And then the semi-truck was past, and there were no other vehicles behind it for quite a way, giving Ryan more than enough time to coax his truck out of its slight fishtail. The other cars on his side of the highway were giving him a wide berth, for which he was grateful. His heart was pounding in his chest as if it might burst through his ribcage and his hands shook on the wheel. Nevertheless, the truck continued on a straight path now as if nothing had ever happened.

Dylan wasn’t speaking.

Oh, I’m not going to hear the end of this.

Ryan glanced over at him, intending to ask if he was okay, when he heard a low, low growl that sent chills crawling up his spine. He’d been in a fight or two, having to claim his position as pack leader and then defend it from challengers, and this was the sort of growl a very angry animal might make.

“What were you doing?” The words blurred together, dangerous and deep.

“I zoned out,” Ryan said. He winced, knowing how pathetic that sounded. He, a fully-grown adult, had nearly killed them both by being incapable of paying attention. “I’m sorry, Dilly.”

Silence now but for shuddering breaths coming from the passenger side. Ryan glanced over out of the corner of his eye and though Dylan was still human, he could see the wolf within struggling to break through in its fury. His friend was snarling, lips pulled back to expose rows of teeth which had become pointed like fangs. Though he’d grown no fur, he was still clearly bristling.

“Do you want to drive?” Ryan offered, a little tentatively. Disagreements like this had to be worked out or they would only fester. He knew that. Every lawyer knew that. So many life-altering decisions, for better or worse, were made as a result of a long chain of arguments which could all be traced back to one insignificant source.

Dylan was still fuming but he shook his head. “I’ll take over about halfway. I figure if you end up zoning out again before then, we were just meant to die.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said again. He felt stupid even though his thoughts were still racing from the adrenaline, as if everything else around him was going too sluggish and he kept passing it all. “I really am. The last thing in the world I want is to hurt you. Can you forgive me?”

There was no response from the other side of the truck. Ryan wanted to look over at Dylan again, but he kept his gaze staunchly trained on the road ahead of him. Whatever momentary caution the other drivers experienced was beginning to wane, which meant he no longer had all that extra space between him and them to act as a safety net. Nerves twisted inside him.

I probably won’t be able to relax for the whole rest of this damn trip. Why didn’t we just fly?

He knew the answer. Dylan hated planes, said they were fragile and unnatural contraptions built for a swift death when crashing. “Why do you think they push the whole seatbelt thing?” he was fond of demanding whenever someone brought up how flying was safer than driving. “In cars, that can save your life. In a plane, the belts just hold your mangled corpse in place so they can identify your remains! And why are there no parachutes?”

Most people naturally rejected that logic because they didn’t want to believe it but Ryan trusted it all because Dylan wasn’t particularly prone to such outbursts. He supposed there was some method that everyone was afraid of when it came to the topic of death. His was drowning, after all.

Driving was supposed to keep Dylan from being stressed, because that was what a good friend and pack leader did, but now he had gone and caused even more of it.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take the silence much longer, Dylan sighed. The sound was heavy and full of reluctance but it was something and that was all that mattered at this point. “Fine. I’ll forgive you. But when we get back, I’m telling everyone that you drive like it’s your first time behind the wheel.”

While that wasn’t exactly something that a pack leader would want to be passed around about him, it wouldn’t be the worst thing that Ryan had ever heard someone say. He didn’t consider himself overly brutish, but he knew he was blunt and acted that way on purpose. He had some pack mates with unpopular opinions about him, but overall, the other wolves had eventually agreed that he’d done a fair bit of good for their community.

It was hard. Sometimes he thought that the other wolves didn’t understand just how hard.

“You would know what that was like, true,” Ryan said. “You were my driver’s ed buddy.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t spent so much time sleeping in the back while I was driving, you would have learned a few things. Like, stay on your side of the road?”

Though tension still reigned between them, some of the banter was returning. Breathing a mental sigh of relief, Ryan relaxed. They drove on, stopping halfway at a little town to fill up on gas and switch spots. The town had no name that Ryan could see. It was one of those ambiguous little places where everyone seemed to be passing through, and no one seemed to live. The businesses were wrapped around a main street to which several highway ramps led, and there was very little else to see. Inevitably, the workers in the scattering of stores were all sour and of a moody disposition, as if the very presence of a customer was an inconvenience to them. Quality customer service was lacking.

“Glad to be out of there,” Dylan said, looking back in the rearview mirror as the buildings receded from sight and were hidden entirely by a wall of trees.

Ryan grunted his agreement, not wanting to bother Dylan because he was focusing with everything he had on safely merging with the other cars on the highway. Ryan stared out the window. All he could do was hope that things got better between them on their own because he was completely out of ideas on how to bridge the gap that had formed. He wished they could be just a few years younger, when everything had been easier, before all the difficulties started taking their toll. Not that long ago, an argument wouldn’t have lasted half as long as this.

I guess it gets harder to forgive, the more shit you’ve seen.

Not much longer after that, Dylan turned up the radio. Ryan kept his face turned away, not wanting to see the sadness that he could feel, watching the same strip of perfect grass just keep on coming. At some point, he fell asleep, though he wasn’t aware he’d closed his eyes.

When he woke up, it was rather abruptly. He tried to yank away from the fingers twisting his earlobe and only succeeded in slamming into the closed truck door. “What the hell,” he muttered, rubbing both his stinging ear and his painful side.

Low laughter trickled into existence, coming from his left. He swung his head around and glared at Dylan, who was chuckling as he turned off the truck. That was when he finally realized they had stopped moving. Looking around, he saw they were parked in front of a hotel in what appeared to be a nondescript little town.

“You were really sleeping good for a bit there.” Dylan smiled and unfastened his seat belt. “Snoring and everything.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do! Like a bear. You didn’t used to. When did that start happening?”

“Past couple years, I guess,” Ryan admitted. Then, he grinned sheepishly as a thought occurred to him. “Sometimes I wake myself up doing it.”

Dylan laughed out loud, and Ryan joined him, reveling in how easy it was to fall back into their old chemistry despite the earlier tension. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. He kept thinking of the past couple years. He hadn’t thought there was much that had really happened within that time frame, but now he knew otherwise, that there had been changes so slow and steady he hadn’t even been aware of them. They were both getting older, developing from men in the prime of their lives into men who would soon be closer to “seniors.” At least, that was how Ryan felt about being 35. He wasn’t sure as to Dylan’s opinions.

When had that started happening, he wondered. When had the future gone from endless to merely limited?

With Dylan’s laughter abating, Ryan reined in his focus. He didn’t want to get so lost in his own thoughts that he zoned out again. “So, why did you pinch my ear? That was kind of childish.”

“Payback for almost killing us,” Dylan said sweetly. His eyes sparkled, as if the clouds in them had gone away for a short time to allow the sun to shine through and strike the water. “You were so vulnerable, and I knew I couldn’t possibly do it while you were conscious or else you’d see it coming.” As an afterthought, he added, “Also, we’re here.”

Ryan sat up straight, some of the fog fading from his mind with the realization. “We are?”

“I already checked us into the hotel. We can go in and catch a nap, if you want. Although it looks like you’ve already had one.”

Taking a nap was out of the question, and it wasn’t because he’d already been sleeping. Knowing they were at their destination, that he was so close to having answers, made his heart start to pound and set his blood aflame. He was about to declare that they head out immediately to the orchard to find the well when he remembered himself and pulled back on his own desires.

I’m not the only one who matters here.

“What about you?” Ryan asked. He examined his best friend while waiting for the answer, taking note of the slightly-squinted eyes and the way his mouth pulled down at one corner.

“I could keep going, but if you want me to be any use at all during this, you should probably let me rest. Not as long as you,” Dylan sniffed. “I’m not as lazy as you are. Just an hour or two is all.”

A couple hours more was too long. A couple seconds was too long. He needed to know, had made it his mission to know, and he wouldn’t be able to rest until he did.