The café was packed when Chad staggered inside. His stomach growled from the mingled odors of food and coffee. He was starving and exhausted. He checked his watch again. It was after six and the storm was still blowing. Not as hard as it had been when they’d hit the two-mile marker several hours ago. Maybe a little harder than when they finally reached the clearing. He could see enough to find the café. There was electricity… and heat and food. He wasn’t worried about anything.

Someone waved at him from a table in the back. The soccer mom, Sam, who’d walked down with Skip pulled out a chair for him and flipped a cup over to fill with more coffee.

He held up his hand and she didn’t pour. “I’m not much of a coffee drinker,” he explained, still feeling the two cups he’d already consumed buzzing through his system. “Just looking for food and somewhere to crash while Skip uses up all the hot water.” He tried to make a joke about why he’d run. Maybe he didn’t know why he’d run.

“How’s he doing?” Sam spoke, cutting off the big guy Darren before he said something Chad would have to punch him in the mouth for.

“Better, after I helped him get his pack off. He was carrying fifty pounds. It felt heavier to me, but I’m used to it. He’ll be fine after a hot shower and some food.” He spoke succinctly, though he was having a hard time keeping his thoughts on the matter to himself. The waitress came, and he ordered a burger and fries and a milkshake, because he wanted something sweet. She patted him on the shoulder and went off to place his order.

Chad turned back to the three at the table, fixing the silent Blake with a glare. “He shouldn’t have been carrying that much weight. And it wasn’t all his gear. If you can’t hack it, you shouldn’t make someone else carry your load.”

Blake pointed a finger at him, but Darren shoved his hand down. “We’re all guilty of that. He never complains. It’s never been an issue before. So yeah… we deserve chastising. Skip has always carried more than his share for us. And the kid is right. If we can’t hack this anymore, we need to find another less strenuous way to meet up.”

Blake leaned back in his seat, looking exhausted and old. “I was going to say this is probably my last trip. Too old for this. We’re losing too many friends.” He cast an apologetic glance at Chad. “I just don’t want to stop. I don’t want to see it all end.”

“Then we pick a place with room service and reunite like civilized people. Or beg Skip to open the beach house and do all the heavy lifting for him. He doesn’t like to entertain. He’d rather be in the wilds with the kids anyway.” Sam added, looking at Chad as she said that last part. “I seem to remember that run down little park he ran being a big hit with a certain someone.” She winked at Chad.

Chad felt his face flame up. He remembered that trip. Skip had taken all the kids down to the park even though it was closed and spent the entire day keeping them entertained. He’d begged his parents to go back so many times he’d been forbidden to ever mention the place or Skip ever again.

“I hear the park isn’t all that run down anymore. In fact, I hear it’s become something of a tourist mecca. Skip never mentions it, but I don’t think he sold it. It was his parent’s legacy. That and that rambling house of his.” Darren said, pouring himself another cup of coffee as Chad’s milkshake arrived.

“He doesn’t spend much time down there anymore. If he’s not off on some cross-country adventure, he’s been spending more and more time at the cabin he bought in Oregon. Rumor is he has a marijuana farm up there. Of course, there was always that rumor since Skip has never had a job that any of us know about.” Blake was being petty. Chad could feel the animosity oozing off him.

“He’s loaded, Blake. Why the hell should he work? He’s doing what he wants to do. Leave him alone. Just because you are a wage slave doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.” Sam sighed and swirled a French fry in ketchup on her plate.

“You know for sure he’s loaded? How? I mean, he has the property, but it’s still run down. He’d fix that up if he had the means. I would.” Blake was going to make an issue of their friend’s finances. Chad seriously wanted to smash the man in his face.

His dinner came, and he tucked into the burger as if he hadn’t eaten in a month. Maybe he hadn’t. He couldn’t remember much about the past few weeks. He’d driven across the country barely remembering where he’d stopped for the nights that he’d stopped at all. He remembered fast food and convenience store restrooms. The rest was a blur.

“Dude, chew your food.” Darren poked him in the shoulder and Chad stopped eating to look up. They were all staring at him, amusement and maybe a bit of horror in their eyes.

“What? I’m hungry. Can’t live on jerky and water,” he said with his mouth full.

“Skip thinks you can.” Blake laughed, finally, and leaned over the table to snag one of Chad’s fries. “He’s shoved enough of it on us over the years.”

“Because it’s protein, and it keeps you sharp when you’re out in the wild, and going.” Chad answered even though it wasn’t a question. Just good sense. “He got your ass down that mountain in one piece.”

“Someone’s got a case of hero worship,” Blake said, his smile turning into a smirk. “Or is it something else? Skip has never mentioned a significant other. And he had a fondness for the kiddies. Maybe some of what Jillian was always going on about wasn’t far off the mark.”

Chad stopped chewing and set his burger on his plate at the mention of his mother’s name. Sam laid her hand on Chad’s arm. “Jillian accused a lot of people of a lot of things, Blake. I’d repeat what she accused you of, but I’m eating.”

Chad had heard some of the things his mother had said about his father’s friends when they’d divorced. Some, not all. “I have never been molested by anyone,” he said in a low voice. “None of the kids have ever been touched by Skip or my dad. And that should be the end of that bullshit.”

He picked up his plate and shake and moved over to the counter as soon as a stool came open. He’d spent way too much time with these people. He didn’t have to sit through the same crap he’d heard at home for longer than he could remember. He kept his back turned when the group filed out. Sam patted him on his shoulder and he relaxed enough to finish eating.

When he was finished, he signaled the waitress who’d waited on him for the check and to ask if they had any stews or soups that he could take back for Skip. She gave him a huge smile and bustled off to the back before he could even get the words out. She came back with a large paper bag and a pat on his shoulder. “Give Skip my love, Love. And thank you for your service.”

She was gone before Chad could argue. He looked in the bag at the abundance of food in Styrofoam containers and wrapped in foil. There was enough in the bag to feed their entire group. And he wasn’t going to share a bite of it after sitting through that and hearing what they thought of Skip.

He left the café and stepped out into a quiet night. The snow had stopped, and there was no traffic on the road. The only sounds came from inside the café. He felt alone. But he’d felt alone most of his life.

“No one believes Skip ever caused you harm.” Sam leaned against the side of the building smoking a cigarette. “Not a single one of us.”

“But you do believe my dad did,” he replied, trying to keep the anger from his voice.

“Your mother believed he did. She convinced a judge there was something to be suspicious of. I know Colt. He wasn’t the type to mess with little boys. I have no idea what your mother had on him, but he didn’t fight her on it and he went away. And that was enough to condemn him in most books.” She answered truthfully. It wasn’t what Chad wanted to hear, but it was the truth as she knew it. She sighed and dropped the cigarette grinding it out with her boot. “I’ll tell you this. Colt loved two people more than life. One was you. The second was Skip. And I am damned sure they never had sex. Skip and Colt were two sides of the same coin. I love them both, but I never understood either of them. The rest of these assholes, yeah, I get them. But not Skip or your dad. And I did have sex with your dad. Tried with Skip, he just is not open to seduction.” She walked to him, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets.

“I’m not open to seduction either,” he gulped and took a step back. The look in the woman’s eyes scared the crap out of him.

She brushed against him, looking up at him with fuck-me eyes. “I’m sure you are. Just not from me.” She removed her hand from her pocket and slipped it into his pants pocket. “For Skip. He’ll know how to use it. If he doesn’t, read the instructions.” She patted his cheek and walked away, leaving him breathless on the sidewalk.

Snow swirled around him as he made his way through the parking lot back to the little cabin he’d run from. A half hour should be enough time for Skip to be out of the shower and dressed. It was enough time for Chad to feel like a complete fool who’d thrown himself at the man.

He stood under the little porch overhang and listened inside, hoping to hear something that would give him some idea as to what he was going to walk in on. He couldn’t handle seeing the man in nothing but a pair of jeans. How in the hell was he going to handle the man naked and still wet from the shower?

Better yet, how in the hell was he going to sleep in the same bed? Skip had a hard body for someone his age. He was compact and wiry and hot as hell.

Chad jangled the key in his hand. He had no idea when he’d started thinking of men the same way his friends talked about women. He couldn’t remember a single man he’d lusted over. Until this week. There was always the fantasy he’d clung to since his teens at the back of his mind. Long red hair. Athletic body. A ready smile that lit up the world. He’d conveniently ignored the lack of feminine curves in his darkest fantasies while he suffered the pain of erections he’d never allowed himself to enjoy.

Because his mother had told him that touching himself was wrong and he’d be sent away like his father had been.

He closed his eyes and tried to fight away the memories that sent him running as far away as he could. Going so far as to join the military to keep her from finding him. And now he was out, and had no place to go except right back to her and her crazy.

He let himself into the room, intending to drop off the food and grab his gear. The hike down to the tavern wasn’t that far by road. He could make it before midnight if he left now, and sleep in his car. The snow swirled harder and the wind picked up, almost as if the weather was laughing at him.

Or conspiring against him.

“Did you eat?” The voice startled him enough that he almost dropped the food. He closed and locked the door and turned into the semi-dark room to find Skip sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked better. Still tired. But better. Chad looked everywhere, but at his body, trying to focus on his face and not the towel that covered him. He could still smell soap. He’d still be warm and damp from the shower. Chad closed his eyes tightly and leaned against the door, fighting off a wave of something that was so very close to having him on his knees… like he’d been this morning.

The image of those green eyes looking up at him in the forest as Chad ejaculated into the man’s mouth punched him in the gut. He held out the bag of food without looking at Skip.

“Chad?” Skip’s voice was soft and filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yessir,” he said before he remembered not to call the man sir. “Just really tired.” He wasn’t. Not really.

“But you ate something?”

“Yessir,” he said it again, swallowing hard as he opened his eyes to look at the man with more concern in his eyes than Chad deserved for the thoughts in his head. He cleared his throat and pushed himself off the wall. “Your friends are assholes.”

Skip laughed, sounding surprised but not upset. “I do declare, Chad, I believe that is the first time you have cursed. I should wash your mouth out with soap. Or are spankings more your thing?”

And didn’t that last part do strange things to the party residing in his shorts?

“Permission to be excused, sir,” he said before he could stop himself. He banged his head back against the door, and tried not to groan at his own stupidity.

“Yeah, whatever, Kid, knock yourself out,” Skip said, his tone flat now. Chad glanced over at him to find him looking in the bag. He started toward the bathroom, tugging his shirt off again and dropping it on the top of his pack. His kit was already on the little table where he’d left it when he came in. He grabbed that and a pair of clean shorts and locked himself in the bathroom.

There was still hot water. He didn’t need a half hour in the shower. He stripped and climbed into the tub with his soap and razor. He ignored his dick when he washed. It would figure out it wasn’t getting what it thought it was getting eventually, and maybe give him a little peace.

He leaned against the wall, letting the water wash over his shoulders. He could still smell Skip’s soap on the air. He imagined he could still smell the man. This time he didn’t have long red hair. He was bald, older, with a smile that still lit up the world.

He squeezed his eyes tightly, pretending that his willpower worked. If he didn’t look, it didn’t happen. He trembled under the heat of the water waiting for the need to pass. He tried not to think of the man. He tried to fight it. He tried so hard not to touch himself. The porcelain hurt his knees when he collapsed under the strain. He shook so hard he could barely wash himself. The water ran cold before he finished and dragged himself out. He’d forgotten to shave again. He ran his hand through his hair. It was getting long and shaggy. He’d need to visit a barber soon. Or take his razor to it. They’d shave it for him when he went back in. He brushed his teeth and packed everything up neatly for the morning. He’d hitch a ride down to his car and head south to San Diego.

Time to go home.

Skip sat on the bed where Chad had left him. He wore a pair of boxer briefs instead of a towel, but nothing else. His shoulders slumped as he leaned his elbows on his knees. He looked like he was praying. Or sleeping sitting up.

Chad bundled his dirty clothing up into a ball, and jumped when a small glass bottle fell out of his pocket and rolled underfoot.

He’d forgotten Sam had slipped something in his pocket. He bent to pick it up, but Skip leaned over and scooped it up before he could. He chuckled softly and looked up. “Little advice, Kid. Don’t ever judge a witch masquerading as a soccer mom.”

He held out the bottle and Chad took it. He opened it and sniffed it. “It’s not drugs. I guess that’s something. She said to give it to you. That you’d know what to do with it. Or to read the directions. There are no directions. What the hell is it? Am I going to jail if I get caught with this?” He handed the bottle back to Skip. Or tried to. Skip leaned back on the bed on his elbows and crossed his ankles on the floor. His glorious body spread out for Chad to admire.

Chad looked away, still holding the bottle. His hands shaking as much now as they had when he’d jerked himself in the tub. Chills raced through his body.

“It’s massage oil,” Skip said softly in a voice that wrapped around Chad like dark silk. “Sex oil to be precise. But with a kick. Guess she thought it would help… with what I’m not sure.”

“Sex oil?” Chad’s voice stuck in his throat. He had to clear it twice just to get a ragged breath in. “For sex… anal sex?”

“Or relaxing sore muscles. But if that’s where the massage leads, then… She’s a tricky one. Took me about ten years to figure out she is probably the most dangerous person in this group. She’s a chemical engineer. Who makes organic… well, she’s made a fortune selling sexual aids on the down low. I love her, but seriously, she’s going to be the death of me one day.” Skip handed the bottle back to him and closed his fingers over it. “Keep it. I don’t need it.”

Chad curled the bottle in his shaking fist and nodded. He tucked the bottle in his kit and put it in his pack, and folded his pants to wear again tomorrow. Something crinkled in his pocket. He heard Skip laugh again. “Let me guess… condoms?”

He nodded and dragged his bedroll off his pack. There was enough room at the foot of the bed. He wouldn’t have to sleep with the man that everyone thought he was having sex with. He didn’t wait for Skip to turn off the light. He curled up on his side and draped his arm over his eyes and went to sleep.