There’s someone naked in my shower, and it isn’t Zach. That thought has been making me take my time while I dry and store my kayak in the shed out back. Not that anything would happen with Mal. We’re kayak buddies and nothing more, but I’m still giving them their space in my room while they clean up after our run down the Poudre River this morning.

I haven’t seen Zach since Friday morning, when I made him scrambled eggs and toast, pretty much the only things I had in my kitchen. He had to go home to work, and I had to get ready for the store. This weekend he has to do stuff in Denver for his cousin’s party thing. Our schedules haven’t aligned so that we can see each other, and I’ve been really busy. Too busy to do more than briefly respond to a few of his texts. It’s just the way things have worked out; I’m not avoiding him.

Mal’s already through in the shower by the time I get upstairs, and has taken over my dresser to get ready. It’s a dance we’ve done a hundred times after our trips, but this is the first time I’ve been self-conscious about stripping down to shower or seeing them bare-chested with only a towel slung around their waist as they blow-dry their silky black hair. I’ve never thought this hard about my interactions with other guys, or people, and I’m a little pissed off that Zach has me questioning everything.

“You gonna get in the shower or just stand there and stare at nothing?” Mal says after clicking off the blow-dryer. They pull the cord from the wall and wrap it around in practiced movements that almost seem graceful for something so simple and mundane. I shake myself out of my thoughts and head to the shower.

“Hurry up, I’m starving,” Mal calls after me, and I can’t argue with that. I worked up an appetite out on the river myself.

Mal and I met through a mutual kayaking friend trying to set us up, since we were the only two gay guys she knew. We hit it off as friends only, because they are way too cocky for my taste, but I’ve never been so compatible with anyone else on the water. Since then, they’ve come out as non-binary, something I accepted without hesitation and have tried not to ask too many questions about. Whenever I watch them have to explain themselves to nosy people, or even other friends, the cockiness disappears under this shroud of exhaustion. I don’t want to be yet another person to add to that.

Over the past couple of years, we’ve spent almost every summer weekend together, kayaking down the Poudre River. This year, though, they had to move to Loveland for work. It’s not that far away, but it does mean we don’t get together as often.

After my shower, I rush to catch up, pulling on a spare pair of jeans I find thrown in the corner, and sniffing at my t-shirt from this morning to make sure it’s clean enough to wear again this evening.

“Dressing to impress, I see,” Mal says to me through the reflection in my bedroom mirror. Their hair is already perfect as they slick a coat of gloss on their lips, surrounded by a slight growth of afternoon stubble. A tight crop top reveals a toned masculine chest, and their tight black pants leave little imagining about what they’ve got going on underneath.

“Not everyone can look as amazing as you do. Jesus, how do you get all that done so fast?”

“Practice.” They smack their lips together and smirk. “But for real, that’s what you’re wearing? I thought we might go out after dinner. It feels like forever since I’ve been to In Toto. There is nothing in Loveland.”

They pull on heeled leather boots and yes, I have a feeling they could pull any person they want at In Toto tonight looking like that. Meanwhile, the most I can claim tonight is that I don’t smell. But this Zach shit has me totally twisted up, and I can’t decide if I want to go out tonight or not.

“We’ll see.” I sigh, but Mal’s eyes widen.

“I can’t believe I missed it. You’re seeing someone!”

“No. Maybe. It’s complicated,” I huff, collecting my keys and shoving Mal out the door. “I thought you were hungry.”

Mal pesters me a few more times on the way to dinner, but I won’t give anything away. I have no idea how I feel about anything right now, and I certainly don’t want to talk about it. Maybe going out later is a good idea. Take my mind off things.

We grab a table by the front and I think I’ve finally succeeded in redirecting the conversation when my phone dings with an incoming text.

Zach: How was kayaking? Did you have fun? Stay safe?

Despite everything that has been going around my head the past couple of days, Zach still sends me texts like these, showing he cares. But if he cares, why does he want to fuck other people? And hell, why should that even bother me? Isn’t it every guy’s fantasy to want to have a three-way or whatever? Why am I having such a hard time wrapping my brain around it all?

“Is that from him?” Mal asks with a grin that clearly indicates that they know it is.

I pin them with a glare, or try to, but they just smile. “You might want to text him back or he’s going to think you’re ignoring him. Wouldn’t want that.”

I shake my head, but admit that they’re right. I still haven’t figured my shit out, but I don’t want Zach thinking I’m upset with him.

Craig: It was good. Mal and I are out for dinner now. Worked up a huge appetite.

I hit send and set it on the table with the screen still pulled up, because the waitress appears at Mal’s shoulder.

“What can I get you?” she says to me, and I order a beer and a burger with extra fries. When it’s Mal’s turn, I notice them glance away from my phone before responding to the waitress.

“Really? Rude,” I say after she leaves to let them know I caught them, but Mal just looks confused.

“From the way you were acting,” they say, “I thought you must really like him. But that text was a total blow off. Is he stalking you or something?”

“What?” I pick up my phone and re-read the messages. “I don’t sound like I’m blowing him off.”

“You totally do. Mentioning me? Did you mention me to him already? ‘Cause you made it sound like we’re out on a date, and then the whole ‘worked up an appetite’ innuendo. If you’re trying to get the guy to back off, I think you’re succeeding.”

“No, that’s not …” Zach hasn’t texted back. Usually he texts right back. Fuck, what am I doing?

Craig: How did the party stuff go? Still in Denver?

I set the phone back down, making sure to click off the screen this time, and can’t stop my fingers from tapping on the table. Mal grins and I flip them off.

“Is that why you aren’t sure about going out tonight?”

“No, we are definitely going out,” I say with confidence.

Zach: Terrible. This stupid party is going to be fancier than a fucking wedding.

Zach: I’m headed home now.

“We don’t have to go out, you know. He wants you to ask him to do something tonight,” Mal says, reading my phone upside down.

“What makes you say that?” I shake my head. “And stop snooping.” I pull my hand back and tuck my phone against my chest.

Part of me wants to give in, to see Zach and pretend like nothing has changed. But then the other part remembers how he looked and how hard he came when he was talking about being fucked by other men. And yeah, that was hot, but am I just setting myself up? Because I’ve already got feelings for Zach swirling around in here. I can’t deny that. But getting more involved with someone that I know doesn’t want to be exclusive, or at the very least, wants to be in an open relationship? That’s just asking to get my heart broken.

Ding.

Zach: I’m just going to crash when I get home. TTYL

I hold my phone up this time as I read, so Mal snatches it away. Seriously. Nosy bitch. Our food arrives before I can call them on it.

“Are you always this much of a dick to the guys you’re dating?”

“I am not being a dick. It’s complicated,” I say, downing my beer faster than normal. “I don’t want to think about this anymore.”

Mal raises an eyebrow and I realize what I’ve said.

“I mean I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Finish up your food so we can go to In Toto. I want to dance.”

“Seriously, is this guy a major dick or something?”

I snort and salute, and then my insides crumple. Mal’s looking at me like I’m crazy, and it doesn’t help to think that Zach probably would have gotten my reference. I don’t want another reminder of how good we are together.

“No, he’s perfect,” I say, and blame drinking my beer too fast on a still mostly empty stomach for my loose lips.

Mal still has my phone, and they type something out before I manage to snatch it back. When I look, they’ve sent a text to Zach for me.

Craig: Drive safe. We’ll be at In Toto later if you want to join us.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I? If this guy is so perfect, why don’t you want to see him?”

“It’s-”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s complicated. You must think I’m a real idiot, considering that if anyone understands complicated,” Mal gestures up and down at themselves, “it’s me.”

It’s been too long since we last hung out. I’d forgotten that Mal is nothing if not persistent. And cocky for a reason, because they rarely fail once they’ve set their mind to something. I have a feeling that something is going to be me spilling my guts over fries and a greasy burger tonight.