Chapter Eight
RYLAN WOKE A FEW HOURS later to the gentle dipping of the bed beside him, and he rolled over eagerly. “Scott—” he began, disappointment sweeping through him when he saw Minh perched there instead.
Minh quirked his lips. “Oh, honey, if you could see your face,” he said in mock sorrow. “I’ve never felt so unwanted.”
Rylan touched his cheek in silent apology and let his hand drop back to the bed. “Sorry,” he said tiredly. “Scott left last night and didn’t come back.”
Minh lay down next to him. “He’s downstairs, baby, asleep on the couch,” he said, his eyes worried. “I heard your voices last night. Did you fight over—over what happened?”
“What, the three of us? No!” Rylan exclaimed. “That was amazing, and what we were talking about had nothing to do with that.”
Minh blew out a breath, clearly relieved. “Thank you, Jesus. ’Cause I’d never wanna hurt either one of you, or mess things up.”
Rylan propped himself up on a mound of pillows. “We were all on the same page last night, Minh. No worries.” He sighed. “Basically I forced him to talk about some painful shit he didn’t want to talk about and ended up pushing him away.”
Minh gave him a rueful smile that held a wealth of understanding. “You got him to open up when he was soft and vulnerable, huh? Smart boy.”
“More like stupid boy.” Rylan scrubbed his hands over his face. “I want him to trust me, Minh, not—”
“Sweetie pie, I’ve seen that your instincts are spot-on when it comes to him. What you have to do is trust yourself and be patient with him. Don’t worry.”
Rylan reached over and squeezed Minh’s fingers. “I’ll try not to. Easier said than done.”
“Amen.”
With a wink, Minh pushed off the bed and headed for his own room. Rylan wallowed there for a while longer, until the faint scent of coffee drifted up from the first floor. He got up and pulled on some sweatpants before padding down to the kitchen.
Scott was there in front of the coffee pot, hair sticking up everywhere, his clothes wrinkled and obviously slept in. “Hey,” he said, his voice neutral, polite. “Want coffee?”
At Rylan’s nod, Scott handed him the full mug he’d just poured and grabbed himself another.
“What do you have planned for today?” Rylan asked, sitting down at the island and sipping the hot brew gratefully.
“Thought I’d do some hiking.” Scott peeled a banana and took a cautious bite, wincing a little as he chewed.
“Does your jaw hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Scott’s voice was curt, and Rylan let it go, wanting to ask if he could go hiking with him but dreading the answer. Patience. Tearing open old wounds means giving him healing time after.
“I do have a surprise for you, though,” Scott said, and Rylan perked up a little at that. “I think you’ll really like it.”
“I know I will,” Rylan said softly, half rising, intending to go over and give Scott a hug whether he wanted one or not.
Just then, Minh walked in, freshly showered, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, and Rylan watched in disbelief as Scott hooked him around the waist and pulled him close for a passionate kiss.
“Wha—” Minh sputtered, kissing him back but trying to keep his body angled away.
“Morning,” Scott murmured, letting him go. Minh threw Rylan a wide-eyed look, and anger tightened Rylan’s lips. It seemed playing games was the order of the day.
He blew out a breath, determined not to let it get to him, and drank his coffee. “If you’re going hiking, Scott, I wouldn’t mind—”
The crunch of tires on the gravel driveway outside cut him off, and Rylan glanced curiously out the window at the small SUV pulling up, his jaw hitting the floor when none other than Chris stepped out.
Rylan exploded off the stool and stormed over to grab Scott’s arm. “What the fuck is this?” he hissed.
Scott shook him off. “I called over to the club last night,” he said tonelessly. “Asked Bobby if he was there, and could I speak to him. I invited him up.”
“For god’s sake, why?”
Scott’s eyes were unreadable, but that old telltale whiteness was around his lips. “I was thinking how bad I felt for running him off that night. You said he was ready to move your friendship to the next level, and here I’ve been selfishly tying you down to something casual and meaningless, so—” He waved his hand at the window, trying to smile. “There you go.” He gave up the attempt at a grin and muttered, “I’m going to take a shower.”
Scott left the kitchen, and Minh started after him, his face red with fury. Rylan clutched his arm. “Don’t, Minh.”
Minh wrenched away. “That bloody fool. I’m gonna go knock some sense into that crazy mofo, just see if I don’t.”
“No. Let it play out,” Rylan said wearily, watching Chris open the hatchback and take out a small duffle and his camera bag. “I just hate that he’s dragged Chris into it. He doesn’t deserve this.”
“But what the actual fuck?” Minh’s voice was high and squeaky.
“Let it play out, Minh,” Rylan repeated softly. “He’s hurting, he’s insecure, and he’s trying to show me he knows what’s best for me, which in his mind will never be him.”
“But what are you gonna do? About Chris? It’d serve that idiot right if he had to watch you with him all weekend long!”
“I won’t use Chris to get back at him, no matter how fucking furious I am at that—that asshole right now.” He clutched his hair. “Goddamn him to hell.” He sucked deep breaths in through his nose. “Can you greet Chris for me? I need to go calm down.”
Minh kissed his cheek. “On it, baby. Go take a breather. There’s another small deck off the downstairs office. I’ll keep Chris busy in here. Go.”
Chris was already headed up the walkway toward the front door, so Rylan darted down the short hallway to the office, slipped inside, and pulled the pocket doors closed behind him before sinking down into the large leather chair that sat behind a mahogany desk.
Jesus fucking Christ, Scott! Rylan resisted the urge to pound his fist on the shiny desk. Why can’t you ever trust me? Or, more importantly, yourself?
He sat back, taking deep breaths, the fury slowly dissipating. He could hear voices coming from the kitchen as Minh greeted Chris and invited him in, the clinking of mugs as he offered him coffee.
If only Scott could see himself the way Rylan saw him…strong, resourceful, resilient. Being abandoned at a busy truck stop in the middle of a faraway state would have had Rylan curling up in a little ball and crying like a baby. He would have called the cops, called a hotline—called his dad.
Rylan heaved a ragged sigh. And that’s what it came down to, wasn’t it? His dad would have rushed to the rescue, or arranged for someone else to, and he would have hugged and kissed him, shed a few tears, probably gotten mad as hell, but underneath it all, Rylan would have known his dad loved him and was beyond relieved he was safe. What would it be like to only expect ridicule and put-downs and taunts when he was already hurting and scared?
Oh, Scott.
Rylan put his head down on his arms, trying to get hold of his emotions. Why would Scott have trusted either Rylan or Bob back then, when he hadn’t had reason to trust anyone his whole entire life? After finding himself vulnerable and in a terrible situation, he did what he’d always done—he’d handled it. In a messy, dangerous, and scary way, but he’d handled it. And he’d survived.
Rylan could hear the rumble of voices outside the office doors as Minh took Chris on a tour of the cabin. He knew what Scott’s game was. Throw Chris in Rylan’s path, hurtfully downplay their own relationship to that of “casual” fuck buddies, and wait for Rylan to lash out at him by jumping into bed with Chris at the earliest opportunity.
Then Scott could walk away, the injured party, his pride intact. After all, it was easier to handle anger than sadness, wasn’t it? Anger was familiar, and safe—rejection and abandonment were to be avoided at all costs.
Well, fuck that shit. Rylan wasn’t playing. He stood and moved to open the pocket doors, taking a deep breath before heading into the kitchen where Minh and Chris were laughing together about something.
“Hey, Ry.”
Rylan’s resolve wavered a little when he saw how Chris’s striking gray eyes lit up at the sight of him and a happy smile spread across his face. Being around Chris was uncomplicated, stress-free. They had a ton in common, endless subjects to talk about. Chris made him laugh, and the air between them pulsed with a pleasant chemistry that made Rylan’s skin tingle. It would be so nice to just—
Rylan moved readily into Chris’s arms to accept his warm hug of greeting. Chris squeezed him tight. “I was so happy to get Scott’s message that you wanted me to come up for the weekend. I thought you and he—well, never mind.” He leaned in to kiss Rylan just as Scott strode into the kitchen.
“Chris, you made it!” Scott’s voice was a little too hearty as he came forward to shake Chris’s hand.
“Thanks for the invite, Scott. I’m thrilled to be here.”
“Don’t mention it. I figured Rylan would be bored stiff this weekend, no one to hike and photograph with.” Scott grabbed Minh and pulled him against his side, ignoring Minh’s glower at the blatant lie. “This one doesn’t really enjoy hiking, and I couldn’t care less about photography myself.”
Chris turned to Rylan, obviously pleased. “Ry, you don’t know this, but I’m a total history buff. I’ve long been fascinated by the thought of the ancient Native American ruins up here, and I’d love to tour them with you. This is a wonderful opportunity for me to indulge myself.” He turned to Scott. “Thank you for opening up your home to me, too.”
“You’re more than welcome. Well, I was about to take off, go for a run. Rylan can show you around, help you pick out a bedroom.” He gave them a suggestive wink, a pained look crossing his face as Minh elbowed him hard in the side. Scott turned to him with determined cheerfulness. “Wanna come with me, leave these two alone for a while?”
Minh rolled his eyes. “No fucking way. This girl headin’ to town to do some shopping!” He struck a pose, holding out his hand. “Car keys?”
Scott glared at him, jerking his head toward a small basket sitting on a table by the door. “Right there.” He clapped Chris on the shoulder as he passed and waved to Rylan. “See ya guys later.”
The door banged shut behind him, and there was a short silence before Minh said, “Well. I’m going to get dressed, and I was serious about heading into Sedona. You two interested?”
Rylan shook his head at Chris’s inquiring look. “Later, Minh, okay?” he said quietly. “Chris drove all the way up here, so what we’re gonna do is hike out and look at some ruins. Maybe talk a little.”
Minh’s dark eyes were full of understanding as he looked between the two of them. “Of course. I’ll pick up steaks and all my favorite fixins at Whole Foods on the way back so we can grill out tonight, if that sounds good.”
“That sounds awesome, Minh,” Rylan said sincerely. “Chris? Steaks, wine, and hot tub after our hike?”
“Definitely.” Chris kissed Rylan again, his lips lingering warmly against Rylan’s cheek. “Mmm, I can’t wait.” He dropped his arm from around him and moved to the front door. “Let me grab my hiking boots from the car. Be back in a sec.”
As soon as he’d gone, Minh clutched Rylan’s arm. “That man is absolutely delicious,” he hissed. “Good-looking, crazy about you. Go for it, sweetheart. Ain’t nobody gon’ judge you for dumping tall, dark, and broody.” He snorted. “Serve that game-playing motherfucker right.”
Rylan gave Minh a wistful smile. “I know, right? Don’t think the same thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But there’s one tiny problem: I happen to be in love with that game-playing motherfucker.”
Minh’s eyes softened. “And he’s head over heels for you, ain’t no doubt in my mind. We just need to get him to realize it.”
Rylan blinked rapidly, then croaked, “If you have any suggestions for doing that, I’m all ears.”
Minh gave him a comforting pat. “We’ll work on it. Meantime, go on and enjoy yourself with Chris, and for fuck’s sake, don’t hurry back. Won’t hurt Scott none to wonder and worry about what he did. He deserves to suffer a tiny bit, in my opinion.”
“He does.” Rylan gave a watery sniff. “I’m going up to get dressed. Be right back.” He turned to run lightly up the stairs, and as he walked into the master bedroom, he realized immediately that Scott had moved his things to one of the other two spare bedrooms down the hall. Asshole.
Rylan pulled on some cargo shorts and a T-shirt, along with some socks and his sturdy sneakers. He grabbed his camera backpack and reached for his phone, which was tossed in the middle of the bed. The lock screen lit up with several notifications, including two from Spectrum’s Instagram account indicating some new pics had been posted. Rylan swiped the app open, smiling when he saw Dee-Lyte up on stage in all her colorful tutu-ed glory, and then one of Pete in some leopard bikini briefs, his oiled muscles gleaming.
Pete’s hot and all, but where’s @ScottyA?? one comment underneath asked. The one following had a few crying-face emojis along with the words Miss you, @ScottyA! Are you ever coming back?
Shaking his head, Rylan scrolled through the previous set of pictures the club had posted, a colorful flyer and the words “MC₂” jumping out at him.
MC₂ Model Search, Round Two! Upload your photos, show us that sexy body in our underwear and you might have a chance of being our next Hawt Boy! Don’t forget to tag #HBMS2!
The Round One winner was on the poster, all smiles, abs popping and bulge prominent. Curious, Rylan went into the model search hashtag to check it out, swiping through the recent entries, most all of them selfies in front of a bedroom mirror while wearing nothing but MC₂ undies. Rylan snorted in disgust at the unoriginality.
He was about to toss the phone down when a sudden idea struck him. Rylan accessed his cloud and pulled up the pics he’d taken of Scott and Minh at the creek the day before, scrolling through them until he found the one he wanted, the one of Scott lying on a rock, sunning himself, his bare chest and ridged abs golden, sleek and glittering with water droplets. His wet cargo shorts were riding low on lean hips, revealing just the barest hint of pubic hair…and the waistband of his MC₂ briefs.
Scott was smiling mischievously up at Rylan, green eyes twinkling. There was a smudge of red dirt on his cheekbone, and his hair was wild and damp and sticking up all over. He looked happy and carefree and so fucking gorgeous that Rylan’s pulse did a sort of leap and started to race.
Deciding the pic was perfect the way it was, no filters, Rylan uploaded it to the club’s Instagram account with the caption, @ScottyA enjoying the weekend with friends and rockin’ his @MCSquared undies! He gave it several tags, including the required #HBMS2, and hit Post. Finally throwing his phone back down to the bed and slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he strode from the room to rejoin Chris.
* * *
“Your sense of composition is amazing.”
Rylan glanced at Chris, who was hovering near his shoulder looking down at the digital screen of Rylan’s camera and the pictures he’d just taken.
“Thanks, man,” Rylan replied, pleased.
“The way you framed the child in the light coming through the cracks in the rock, then waited to capture the perfect expression on her face…very impressive.”
“For a rookie, you mean?” Rylan teased, and Chris moved a little closer until his chest rubbed against Rylan’s shoulder.
“No, for a photographer, period.” Chris’s voice was serious. “Your work shows a maturity beyond your years, and your instincts are, from what I’ve seen, impeccable.”
Rylan flushed with pleasure, basking in the gentle admiration in Chris’s eyes, the warmth.
“I’d really love to work with you,” Chris continued. “Have you given any more thought to Africa?”
They started ambling down the trail again, the Palatki Ruins looming from the cliffs above. Rylan trailed his fingers over the low stone wall they were walking alongside, feeling the heat from the rocks.
“I’ve thought about it,” he said. “But Chris, my funds—”
“Don’t worry about that, or at least not as much as you are.” He smiled. “I’ve applied for the funding to bring you on as an official intern at the magazine.”
Rylan’s mouth dropped open as Chris said, “The position itself is unpaid, but your travel expenses will be covered as far as airfare and accommodations. Any incidentals will be your responsibility, but—”
He broke off when Rylan grabbed his arm exuberantly. “Oh my God! Really?”
Chris covered Rylan’s fingers with his and squeezed. “Really. You have a raw talent, Rylan, you just need a little experience and seasoning, that’s all. I see a very successful career ahead of you.”
Rylan felt like he was floating on air. “I—I can’t believe it. Coming from you, that’s just—”
He couldn’t stop chattering as they hiked deeper into the woods, and he peppered Chris with questions about his work, his technique, the politics of photography in foreign, sometimes hostile countries. By the time he wound down, Rylan realized they weren’t far from the spot he’d been with Scott and Minh the day before, where the three of them had lain on the rock and—he flushed.
As soon as the rushing water of Oak Creek came into view, Chris gave a pleased exclamation and pulled his socks and boots off before wading enthusiastically in. “God, that feels good. It was fucking hot by the ruins.”
Rylan set his camera down next to Chris’s on the shore and followed suit, picking his way through the creek, trying not to slip on the rocks. Chris held out his hand. Rylan took it, and they held each other up as they let the cool water refresh their sweaty, tired feet. Eventually they made their way back to shore and dropped down to sit side by side.
“Want some?” Chris handed him a plastic bottle, and Rylan unscrewed the top and took a huge drink, choking when the tepid water went down the wrong pipe and spewed back up and over his chin.
Chris chuckled as Rylan cursed and wiped it away, hesitating for a moment before leaning over to murmur, “Whoops, got a little here, too.” He ran his thumb over Rylan’s lower lip to the corner of his mouth, where he let it linger, stroking the sensitive skin.
Rylan stared at him, taking in the dark hair lightly streaked with gray, the handsome tanned face, the smile lines at the corners of his pale gray eyes. His fingers were rough and warm as they slid around to cup the back of Rylan’s neck and pull him closer.
“I haven’t even kissed you,” Chris whispered, his words little puffs of air against Rylan’s cheek, “and I’m already about to bust through my zipper. Oh, what you do to me, Ry.”
Rylan closed his eyes as Chris’s mouth settled on his. The kiss was gentle, seeking, tasting. Chris groaned, pushing Rylan to his back and following him down. His lips weren’t gentle this time, but firm, demanding, his tongue plunging deep.
Chris pulled back with a gasp, rocking against Rylan’s hip, letting him feel how hard he was. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he said hoarsely, “about how you felt against me on the dance floor, those times you let me touch you, hold you—”
Rylan’s gut churned as regret, guilt, and indecision fought for dominance against an arousal that was making his blood run hot. He could have this man, right now, and he was everything Rylan would’ve said he wanted, except…he wasn’t Scott. Chris cupped Rylan’s chin and kissed him desperately, his knee nudging Rylan’s thighs apart. When he started to move between them, Rylan put his hands on Chris’s shoulders and held him back. “No. Stop, Chris. I can’t.”
Chris froze before pushing away to sit up. He linked his fingers behind his neck and sucked in deep breaths of air. “Jesus, Rylan. I’m sorry. Mauling you on a public trail like some sort of randy teenager. I can wait until we—”
“No.” Rylan sat up, too, draping his arms across his upraised knees. His body was tingling, his lips wet and swollen, cheeks abraded from Chris’s whiskers. “I mean, I can’t. At all.”
Chris’s eyes were searching. “Scott, huh?”
Rylan didn’t say anything, and Chris cleared his throat. “I could feel the tension in that kitchen this morning, and I knew his invitation was too good to be true. But I hoped maybe—” He sighed.
“I’m sorry,” Rylan mumbled, shame and misery moving through him. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, Chris. You’re so easy and fun to be with. I was really enjoying today, and I—”
“Hey.” Chris turned to him and slid his arm around Rylan’s shoulders. “I forget sometimes how young you are. You’re so mature, and you’re only what, twenty-three, twenty-four?”
“Twenty-three.”
“And I’m forty-one,” Chris said, a rueful smile on his lips. “Set in my ways. I know I come on way too strong, and since I don’t stay in one place very long, I tend to move fast and go after what I want.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Not to mention the fact that sleeping with my intern makes me sound like the worst of dirty old men.”
Rylan snorted. “Stop making yourself sound so ancient. You’re hot and incredibly sexy and if I wasn’t—if I wasn’t in love with a—with a stubborn jerk, I’d happily fall into bed with you, internship or not. Happily.”
Chris bit his lip with another small groan and dropped his arm from Rylan’s shoulders, his eyes dark with suppressed hunger. “Temptation, get thee behind me.”
They put their shoes on in silence before picking up their cameras and heading off down the trail to Chris’s car. When they arrived back at the cabin, the tension between them had mostly dissipated, to Rylan’s relief. “Chris, please stay for dinner, at least. Knowing Minh, he bought out the entire Sedona Whole Foods and has prepared quite the feast.”
Indeed, the mouthwatering smell of steaks on the grill wafted down to their noses, and Chris smiled. “I’d like that.” As they ambled toward the cabin, he said casually, “So what’s Minh’s story? Is he single?”
Rylan laughed. “Single and looking,” he said teasingly. “For a sugar daddy, that is.”
Chris smirked. “Is that so? Well, this could be a—very interesting night after all.” Rylan smiled at him as they headed up the porch stairs, and he reached out to wipe some dirt from Chris’s cheek.
“Have fun?”
They broke apart as Scott’s voice came at them from the depths of the shady porch where he was slouched in a rattan chair, phone on his knee. Rylan nodded. “We did,” he said, continuing on inside the cabin without another word, Chris on his heels.
Minh had some music blasting from the kitchen, and he was singing at the top of his lungs while he worked on dinner. Rylan chuckled to himself as Chris set his stuff down on the foyer table and wandered that way.
He trudged up the stairs and grabbed his bag from the guest room before heading into the master, where he shed his dusty, sweaty clothes and kicked them into a heap.
“What are you doing in here?” Scott appeared in the doorway, his lips a hard line, his eyes raking Rylan’s nakedness, fists clenched at his sides.
“Taking a shower.” Rylan was glad his voice came out steady, and he strolled toward the bathroom, striving for nonchalance though his heart was pounding so hard he thought he might pass out.
“Washing his come off you in my shower?” Scott’s voice sounded like gravel, and Rylan threw him a reproving look over his shoulder as he turned on the faucets.
“Don’t be crude, Scott,” he chided gently. “We didn’t fuck. We hiked and talked.”
Scott slumped against the doorframe for a moment and then straightened. “Whatever.” He disappeared out into the bedroom, and Rylan heaved a ragged sigh before climbing in and letting the hot water beat down over his shoulders and neck.
Emerging somewhat refreshed, he was disappointed that Scott was nowhere in sight. Rylan pulled on some sweats and a T-shirt, about to leave the room when he noticed a tall silhouette on the balcony outlined through the sheer curtains. Rylan made his way out there and rested his elbows on the railing next to him, both of them staring down at the patio below.
Minh was manning the huge grill, silver tongs in one hand, glass of red wine in the other, and he threw his head back and laughed at something Chris said. Chris grinned back at him, and when he leaned in to refill Minh’s glass from the bottle he held, he let his free hand graze Minh’s lower back as he did so.
Scott gave a sneer. “What, you shot the dude down and now he’s moving on to the next available piece of ass?”
Rylan kept his tone mild as he said, “Pretty much. But Chris isn’t like that. He’s not out to use and hurt anyone. He just wants to have a good time before he leaves again.”
Minh traced his tongue around the edge of his wineglass and took a sip, laughing again as Chris clutched his chest, pretending to pant.
“I think Minh knows the score and can take care of himself.”
“No doubt.” Scott’s voice was dry, but a little more even, like he’d let himself relax a fraction. “Why’d you shoot him down, Rylan?”
“I didn’t want him.”
Scott tensed again. “Why?”
Rylan took a deep breath, moving behind Scott to slide his arms around Scott’s waist and bury his face between his shoulder blades. “Because I want you.” He nuzzled his nose into the warm fabric of Scott’s shirt and kissed his nape. “I love you.”
Scott’s body grew even more rigid. “I don’t want you to love me.”
Rylan ran his parted lips over the side of Scott’s neck, breathing in the scent of his skin. “I know,” he said quietly. “But I do anyway.”
Scott was gripping the railing so hard his knuckles were white, and Rylan tightened his arms around him, hugging him close. They didn’t speak, just watched Minh pile the steaks on a plate and head back into the house while Chris trailed behind with a platter full of foil-wrapped corn and veggie kabobs.
Rylan stepped back, letting Scott go and tugging at his hand until he released the railing. He threaded their fingers together and led him downstairs to the dining room, where food covered every inch of the table. Rylan’s stomach growled as he found himself suddenly ravenous after the exertions of the day.
It was amusing to watch Minh and Chris flirt while they ate, not even seeming to notice how quiet Scott and Rylan were. Scott didn’t eat much, pulverizing a baked sweet potato into mush and mixing it with a small pat of butter while Rylan stuffed himself to the gills with everything.
“Damn, Minh, you’re a good cook,” he groaned at last. “I think I just gained eleventy-billion pounds.”
“It’s delicious,” Chris echoed, sitting back and rubbing his flat stomach. “Thank you, Minh. I won’t be eating like this once I get to Africa.”
Rylan gave him a small shake of the head, indicating he shouldn’t say anything about the internship just yet. Chris nodded back in acknowledgment.
“What kind of food will you eat there? And what part are you going to?” Minh sat back with his wineglass, his eyes shining with interest.
“I’m headed to Uganda, specifically the northern part that borders Sudan,” Chris said, wiping his lips on his napkin. “I was last there about ten years ago, during the height of the LRA insurgency. Lord’s Resistance Army,” he clarified. “It devastated the region, forced almost two million Acholi people into refugee camps. Thousands of children were kidnapped from their villages and used as soldiers.”
“Jesus.” Minh put his hand over his mouth. “Is it better now? Is it dangerous?”
Chris gave him a reassuring smile. “The region is more or less stable now, although there are still pockets of fighting between the LRA and government soldiers. Most of the people have been repatriated back to their villages, and what I want to do is document the differences between then and now.”
Scott pushed back from the table with a loud scrape of his chair. He grabbed his plate and carried it to the sink, setting it down with a clatter before turning the faucets on with sharp, angry motions. Chris’s lips twisted in a rueful grimace. “He knows?”
Rylan winced at the racket coming from the kitchen as Scott noisily washed the plates and silverware. “Not about the internship, but I’d talked about the possibility of me going with you. It didn’t, uh, go over well.”
Chris stood up and came over to Rylan’s chair, giving his shoulder a commiserating squeeze. “Why do you think I’ve stayed single? It makes leaving so much easier.”
He turned to Minh, whose mouth was open to speak, his eyes burning with curiosity.
“Come on, beautiful,” Chris murmured to him, holding out his hand. “You cooked, they clean, we play.”
Minh, immediately diverted, squealed in delight as Chris yanked him to his feet and into his arms, dancing him out onto the patio where the music was still playing softly.
Rylan watched them for a moment, grateful to Chris for keeping Minh distracted. Not like it was going to be any hardship; he snorted to himself as Minh promptly went into full sex-kitten mode, undulating his lithe body against Chris’s, his sensuous movements bringing a heated flush to Chris’s cheeks.
Rylan and Scott cleaned the kitchen in silence, and when Rylan went out to the patio to make sure the grill was turned off and the grates brushed, he discovered that Chris and Minh had shed all their clothes and were in the Jacuzzi, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Jesus,” Scott muttered at his shoulder. “They didn’t waste any time.”
“Nope.” Rylan grinned as he closed the cover on the grill and tiptoed after Scott back into the house. “It’s awesome. They’ll have some hot fun tonight, which is what they both need.” He went out into the living room to make sure the front door was locked and all the lights off, and when he returned, Scott was nowhere in sight.
Rylan picked up the half-full wineglass he’d left on the kitchen island and took a sip. Time to start chipping away at the thick walls Scott had thrown up around himself and hope he could get back in. With a last peek out at the patio and the figures now entwined on one of the oversized chaise lounges next to the pool, Rylan put his wineglass in the sink and made his way upstairs.
“Mmmm,” Rylan said, joining Scott on the balcony. “Shame on you for spying.” Down below on the chaise, Minh was on top of Chris, between Chris’s widespread legs, his hips circling as he ground down against him. Chris clutched his ass, encouraging him.
Scott shrugged, a half smile tilting up the corner of his lips. “If the shoe were on the other foot, Minh would be sitting in the Jacuzzi with a glass of wine, giving us sex tips and enjoying his ringside seat. At least with us up here, they can pretend they have some privacy.”
Minh kissed his way down Chris’s body until his head was buried between Chris’s thighs, and Chris tangled his fingers in Minh’s silky black hair, his neck arching back and mouth falling open as Minh swallowed him to the root.
“Damn, that’s hot.” Rylan nudged Scott with his shoulder, and Scott snorted.
“Yeah. You realize that in the space of twenty-four hours, he’s now had three different dicks down his throat. Slut much?”
Rylan sighed. “There’s that word again.” Scott shot him a questioning glance, and Rylan said, “Slut. Whore.”
“If the shoe fits…”
Rylan leaned his hip on the railing, facing him. “I hate those words, though. It used to bother me a lot when I’d hear Heather slut-shamed so much.”
Scott tensed, a muscle in his jaw starting to tick, but before he could say anything, Rylan went on, “She wasn’t a slut. She was a sheltered, naïve, young girl who didn’t stand a chance against—”
“A monster?” Scott’s voice was guttural, and Rylan put his hand on his corded forearm, praying for the wisdom to go through the door he’d just impulsively opened. This was dangerous territory, and he knew it.
“A thoughtless, inconsiderate, immature, selfish young man. He wasn’t a nice guy, Scott, by any stretch of the imagination. But hardly a monster.”
Rylan stroked Scott’s arm. “Whenever I think about all this, the only person I blame one hundred percent is Heather’s mom. She’s the one who let her down, who wasn’t there to love her child unconditionally when Heather made the biggest mistake of her life by trusting the wrong person.”
Scott pushed off the railing with a violent motion and stalked back into the bedroom. Rylan followed, closing the door to the balcony gently behind him, his heart aching. He’d started this, and now he’d have to finish it.
Your instincts are spot-on when it comes to him. Minh’s voice echoed in Rylan’s mind. Trust yourself.
“But it wasn’t a mistake that had to ruin her life,” he said to Scott’s rigid back. “If her mother hadn’t let blind devotion to fucking religion turn her against her vulnerable, scared child—”
Scott threw himself down onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. His face was white, his lips a thin line, but Rylan took comfort in the fact he hadn’t demanded he shut up, or get out. Yet.
Rylan didn’t try to approach him. “When she was kicked out and went to live with her friend, she was seventeen years old with a newborn baby. No education, no job prospects, no support—I can’t even begin to imagine how terrified she was. Those asshole brothers saw that and took advantage of her, and she did what she had to do to keep a roof over both of your heads. She was trying to keep you with her. Maybe, just maybe, she was trying to be—a mom.”
“A mom?” Scott barked out a scornful laugh. “Your definition of mom and mine are worlds apart, Rylan. She did it to save her own ass, that’s all.”
“It’s all in the way you look at it, Scott. She could have abandoned you somewhere. She could have left you by the side of the road, or at a fire station; I don’t know. But she didn’t, and her body was the only currency she had. She’s not a slut.”
“You’re crazy.” Scott sat up and glared at him. “You met her. You saw her.”
The memory of that night Rylan spent huddled in Scott’s arms while they listened to Heather screwing a stranger in the next bedroom crashed over him and he flinched. Scott noticed and sneered. “Still don’t think she’s a slut?”
Rylan gripped his knees. “What’s that saying? Self-fulfilling prophecy? So many people passing judgment, calling her names, until she didn’t even know who she was anymore.” He went to sit on the edge of the bed. “Imagine if instead of insults and judgment, she’d had someone early on to understand, to listen, to help. Just one person to say ‘Everyone makes mistakes, Heather. Yes, you ended up in a terrible situation, but you did what you had to do in order to take care of yourself and your baby. You’re not a bad person.’”
Scott turned his head away. “You live in a fucking dream world, Rylan. She’s a bitch.”
Rylan put a tentative hand on Scott’s leg. “I’m not trying to make excuses for her,” he said, ignoring Scott’s mocking snort and the way he moved his leg out of reach. “I’m trying to understand her.” Because I’m convinced understanding her is the key to understanding you. “And I’m not saying she wasn’t a shitty mom, because she was. She hurt you, over and over and over, deliberately, maliciously, and there’s no excuse. I hate her for that, but one thing I will never do is look at her as a slut.”
“Tell that to your dad, Rylan.”
“My dad forgave her, Scott.” He watched Scott’s eyes widen, and he dared to slide a little closer until his hip touched Scott’s thigh. “He never told her, or even wanted to, I don’t think. But he told me. He said—” Rylan swallowed the lump in his throat. “He said he pushed her into a committed relationship when he knew she wasn’t ready for one, not then, maybe not ever. The fact he had a job that took him away for such long periods…if he had it to do over, he told me, he would have asked for a local route, would have moved him and me closer, been around, taken it slow. Instead, the whole thing was a recipe for failure. You knew that, didn’t you?”
Rylan put his hand on Scott’s leg again, rubbing his thumb in circles over the bunched muscle. “He made mistakes, too, but if nothing else, he loved her. He truly loved her. He loved all of you.”
Scott blinked rapidly but didn’t let the tears fall. He bit his lip. “I liked him, Ry. I used to think sometimes that if Heather managed to not fuck it up, he’d actually make a pretty good dad.” He ran his hand impatiently over his eyes. “But she did. Another thing to hate her for.”
“I know. She took so much away from you. Your hopes, your dreams, what could have been.” Rylan waited until Scott met his eyes. “So here’s you, a kid. Young, hurting, vulnerable. You meet a man—and yes, this guy’s a fucking monster—who takes advantage of that. You proceed to make the biggest mistake of your life by trusting the wrong person.”
Scott’s lips trembled, and he pressed them together, looking away.
“He abandoned you at the truck stop because he’s a monster. Then when you realized you were alone, the decision you made was not to call your family. It wasn’t a decision you made lightly, and you made it thinking it was best for you. So it was a good decision, Scott.”
Scott looked at him again, his green eyes awash in tears he refused to let fall. “That decision turned me into a whore. Like her.”
“You were eighteen and penniless. So tell me, what ‘should’ you have done instead? Talked your way into a job at the diner? With no ID, no birth certificate, no high school diploma?” He threw up his hands. “Oh, I know. You should’ve found a kind old lady to take you in, one who’d give you a place to live while you did odd jobs for her until she died and left you all her money. Why didn’t you do that? Because this isn’t a fucking Disney movie, Scott. This is real life, and you did what you had to do to fucking survive!”
“Rylan, I sucked dicks. For money.” Scott’s voice was barely audible. “I let strangers bend me over their truck seats and fuck me in the ass.”
“You were a sex worker.” Rylan kept his voice even. “You worked, and you got paid. That’s a job. You found the only job you could, and you worked hard, and you got to Phoenix.”
Scott shook his head, one lone tear sliding down his cheek.
“And there Minh found you, and Corey found you—” Rylan’s voice trailed away as his own throat clogged with emotion. “Now you found me.” He cupped Scott’s chin in his hand, stroking his thumb tenderly over his lips. “I love you.”
Scott wiped the tear away impatiently, his eyes unreadable. “God, you have no idea how many times I’ve heard that over the years, people telling me they loved me. Dozens.”
Rylan tried to smile. “Yeah?” He let his hand fall away. “Well, I agree with all of them. You’re pretty lovable.”
“I try.” Scott scrubbed his hands over his face. “Shit, I’m way too wound up to sleep. I’m going for a walk.” He leapt off the bed, grabbed his phone from the dresser, and opened the door. “Don’t wait up.”
Then he was gone.