Adam was filling a water bottle when someone knocked at his door. Kyle, he assumed, right on time. He appreciated punctuality, just like he was learning to appreciate a lot of things about Kyle. When he opened the door, he added the way Kyle looked in almost every situation to the list. He had skipped the skinny jeans, preferring shorts and yet another graphic tee, this one a Christmas tree–shaped robot with too many arms. How many of these T-shirts did Kyle own? His hair was back to artfully messy, with the same white sunglasses perched on top that he’d worn the first day Adam had seen him in the rain at the school.
“Hey, Mr. Hathaway,” Kyle said. “Are you going to invite me in, or do we have to discuss our last PTA meeting in the hall? Because I’m not sure we put all the details in the minutes, and I’d like to go over them with you.”
Adam groaned. “Nice to see your material hasn’t improved since Saturday.”
Kyle slid past him into the apartment. He wiggled obscenely against Adam as he went. Adam barely got the door closed before he was surrounded as Kyle’s mouth found his, greeting him with a kiss that said Kyle was as aware as Adam of how many days it had been since they’d last done this.
The kissing went on for a while. Adam enjoyed the feeling and sounds too much to think about what would happen if he let it continue. It was Kyle who stepped back. He licked his lips and didn’t look like he’d need much encouragement to agree to give up on the hiking plan altogether and go straight to bed.
“I’ll get my boots.” Adam let his hands drag over Kyle’s shoulders, then headed across the apartment to a small closet near the back hall.
“How was school?” Kyle asked.
“Good.” Adam rummaged through the closet for his hiking boots.
“And the rest of your week?”
Adam sat to lace the boots. Kyle’s hands were fidgeting at his sides, and he wouldn’t quite meet Adam’s eyes. Was he nervous? The thought seemed ridiculous.
“Was that cheesy PTA line all you had prepared?” he asked. Kyle licked his lips again, and holy fuck they had to get out of the apartment before Adam changed the itinerary and took off his clothes right there.
“Mostly, yeah.” Kyle scratched at his scalp.
Adam laughed. He crossed the apartment to step into Kyle’s space. Kyle inhaled as Adam leaned in and kissed him once on the cheek. He paused, his lips a fraction away from Kyle’s skin, and watched as Kyle’s lashes blinked across his cheeks. Adam kissed him one last time, quickly, and pulled back.
“You and your mouth are a menace, Mr. Hathaway. They’re like a virus,” Kyle said. “A really awesome virus.” The idea that he affected Kyle so much made Adam warm. It was comforting to know he wasn’t alone in the way he felt, like the two of them together was becoming addictive.
“Let’s go.” Adam stuffed the water bottle into a backpack.
Kyle lifted his own bag. “I brought snacks!”
“Of course you did.”
Kyle drove them to the trailhead. The van’s engine made a high-pitched chugging noise as they headed onto the highway out of town, but Kyle assured Adam that Ben had fixed it recently and it would get them there and back in one piece. Adam made sure to check there was cell service as they pulled into the trail parking lot, just in case they couldn’t get the van running again. There was a signal, but it was weak. Adam hoped they wouldn’t need it. Getting stranded in the forest was a romantic idea in the movies, but the reality wouldn’t be anything like that.
“The Whisky Creek trail is nice,” he said. It was easier than he would have picked for himself, but he didn’t want to take a route Kyle wouldn’t be comfortable with. Kyle was wearing a sturdy pair of running shoes, but Adam thought back to his flailing limbs and heaving chest at that first basketball game. It would be best to play it safe this time.
Kyle stared at the map tacked up on the board with an unreadable expression on his face. It took him a few seconds longer than normal to speak, and when he did, all he said was, “Sounds good.” He bent to tighten the laces on one shoe, but he didn’t say anything further. Instead he pulled out a water bottle to take a drink, and then hitched his backpack up on his shoulders.
“Lead the way, Captain!” He saluted Adam with a crooked smile.
The beginning of the trail was narrow, so Adam took the lead. They walked the first hundred yards in silence, except for the occasional sound of Kyle’s feet skidding on the uneven ground, or tripping over a rock or tree root, but every time Adam checked, Kyle smiled and kept walking. A couple times he threw in a goofy thumbs-up. When the trail widened again, Kyle stepped up to match Adam’s pace and kept up easily. Adam watched him out of the corner of his eye.
“What?” Kyle asked.
“Nothing.” Adam tried to hide the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips.
“What?” Kyle’s brown eyes crinkled. He shoved at him, and Adam took a step to the side.
“I . . .” he laughed, “after basketball . . . I wasn’t sure if . . .”
“You thought I was hopeless at any sort of physical activity?”
“Well, not all physical activity.” Adam’s smile turned wry.
Kyle laughed and pushed at his shoulder again. “I’m not good at the ones that require forward motion and coordination of multiple body parts. You know, like running and dribbling a ball.” His foot wobbled on another rock, and he pitched forward so hard Adam had to steady him.
“Walking and talking?” he said.
“Shut up, Mr. Hathaway.”
They continued on the path. The afternoon was warm, but the trail wasn’t crowded. The conversation was steady and easy. Adam tried to remember the last time he’d really gotten to know someone. Of course, he interacted with people all the time—colleagues, parents, Ben and the others at their basketball games—but any friendships there were professional or situational at best. Rebecca was his closest friend in Red Creek, but their relationship wasn’t exactly optional. Aside from her, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d sought someone out to spend real time with, or felt comfortable enough to share more than basic small talk.
And yet, despite Kyle’s boundless energy, Adam could relax around him. Maybe it was because the problems that had brought him to Red Creek had started to feel minor compared to Kyle’s. It wasn’t that Adam pitied him; quite the opposite in fact. Kyle’s continued efforts to be optimistic and make the best of his situation were slowly pulling Adam out of the isolated life he’d created to protect himself.
As they walked, Adam told Kyle a couple of his hall of fame and shame stories from teaching. Kyle told him about growing up in Red Creek. It wasn’t much of a struggle to imagine teenage Kyle’s misadventures.
Kyle also told him about a job interview that Rebecca had set up for him at the new convention center.
“That’s great! It would be a good opportunity!” Adam tried to come off as enthusiastic without being pushy. He was sure Rebecca had done enough of that to fully represent the Hathaway side of things.
Kyle didn’t seem very keen though. “It wouldn’t be bad,” he said. “It’s not really what I used to do in Seattle . . .”
“But if it’s a regular job, with a regular paycheck, that has to be an improvement, doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely. I’m not sure it’s what I want to do, but . . .” He shrugged the backpack up onto his shoulders. “The interview’s on Monday. I’ll go see what they’ve got to offer, but I’m still trying to keep my options open.”
Adam tried to picture what those other options might be. “Would you ever do other kinds of event planning? Like weddings and things?”
Kyle stumbled over another rock. “Oh god! I’d rather organize the annual rubber-tubing supplier’s trade show for the rest of my life than organize weddings.”
Adam’s mouth quirked up on one side. “Not a fan?”
“There is no evidence that a wedding makes a marriage successful. Not even one that would be planned by yours truly would give anyone a head start to domestic bliss.”
“So it’s better not to have one, then?” That all seemed a little cynical and too pragmatic.
Kyle eyed him and grinned. “Are you a closet romantic, Mr. Hathaway?”
Adam flushed a little. “I don’t know. I don’t buy into all that ‘most important day of your life’ bullshit, but . . . I don’t know.” His brain felt strained, like the effort to string the words together was taking every available neuron, but they felt important to say. “If you find someone you want to spend the rest of your life with, it’s worth making a statement, isn’t it?”
“That’s beautiful, Adam,” Kyle said, and there wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. Instead he walked up to him and kissed him once. Their lips slid together for just long enough to make Adam shiver, and then Kyle walked on.
Of course, making a statement about being committed to a relationship meant making another statement if the relationship ended. Maybe not taking an ad out in the paper, but people would want to know what happened. He and Daniel had never been shy about being together, but their openness had led to so many questions when the relationship was over. Playing it cool and keeping personal details to himself had only meant that rumors lingered. There had been so many concerned and curious faces at Newcastle, even months after the breakup, as Adam had carried the last of his boxes to his car when the school year was done.
The end of the trail was a ledge overlooking a ravine and the valley below. They sat across from each other at a picnic bench, and Kyle pulled off his backpack and unzipped several pouches. Adam’s eyes widened as he saw the various clear plastic bags and containers that Kyle produced, along with one slightly squashed white bakery box.
“You lugged that all the way out here?” Adam could see two kinds of trail mix, some dip that might be hummus, two containers of sliced vegetables, another container filled with pre-stacked cheese and crackers, and another filled with grapes.
“Bon appétit!” Kyle said.
“We can’t eat all this,” Adam said.
Kyle shrugged and picked up a carrot stick. “My usual traveling companion is six and prone to getting hungry at inconvenient moments. And I never know from week to week what she will have decided that she doesn’t like to eat anymore, so I’m always stocked. Don’t worry.” He put a grape between his lips and sucked it into his mouth with an audible pop. “I’ll take back whatever we don’t eat and pawn it off on the Bean and my dad.”
“You should have told me you were carrying all this.” Adam considered their feast for another minute. “It must have been heavy. I could have taken some of it.”
Kyle waved him off. “I’m stronger than I look. Have a cracker.” He picked up the container with cheese and crackers, and waggled it in Adam’s direction until he took one.
“Thanks.”
“Oh!” Kyle reached for the white box. “Rebecca sent dessert too!”
“Why is my sister sending snacks with you instead of me?” Adam asked.
Kyle arched an eyebrow as he tried to open the box. “Maybe she likes me better.” He fumbled, struggling to snap the little strips of tape that held the box shut, and Adam sighed. He took the box and had it open within a moment.
“You’re a good man to have around, Mr. Hathaway.”
Inside the box were four little cupcakes, two vanilla and two chocolate. They were the same ones Adam had brought to Kyle’s house that first night, if he ignored the way the frosting on two had been crushed a bit in Kyle’s backpack. He smiled, and was pleased to see Kyle smiling too as he picked up a cupcake. It was dopey, the two of them grinning at each other across a picnic bench, but Adam didn’t mind in the least.
They ate for a while and, when they were done, Adam had to admit there was less food left than he had expected. He’d even eaten two of the cupcakes.
“Should I be worried that you’re spending so much time with my sister?”
Kyle’s eyebrows knitted together. “Why?”
Adam felt sheepish for asking. “She knows things . . .”
Kyle laughed. “Don’t worry. When she starts pulling out the photo albums of your naked baby bum—which I don’t have to see to know it’s only gotten cuter over the years—I’ll let you know.” Adam felt himself flush at that and Kyle groaned. “Seriously though, we have to work on your blushing thing.”
“I don’t blush!” Adam said, while his face heated up more.
Kyle pinched his lips together with his fingers, but his shoulders shook. “You totally do, Mr. Hathaway,” he said. “And every time you do, I want to rub myself on you, to see what it feels like.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Still true.” Kyle’s grin was wide and unrepentant.
They packed up all of Kyle’s bags and containers, now mostly empty. They had walked far enough from the road that everything around them was quiet, only the sounds of wind blowing through tree branches and the occasional bird. As they stood at the edge of the lookout, Adam wanted to stay there as long as possible.
“This is really beautiful.” Kyle slid an arm around Adam’s waist as he squinted into the late-afternoon sun. “Thanks for bringing us out here.”
“You hadn’t come out here before?” Adam asked. Kyle’s face made the same unreadable expression it had made back at the map board at the start of the trail, waking a nervous feeling in his stomach that said he’d made a mistake.
“I have,” Kyle said as they turned back for the trail. “I hiked out here a few years ago when we visited.”
Adam’s feet stopped dead.
“With . . . with . . .” He couldn’t get the word out. Kyle slowed a few paces ahead. Adam thought of the night he’d found Kyle getting drunk at Morrison’s. He could still see the stricken look on Kyle’s face, the sad eyes and rumpled hair. He was afraid to see it again if Kyle turned around.
“With Olivia,” Kyle said. “It’s okay. You can say her name. I won’t break.” He continued walking, though, and Adam jogged to catch up with him.
“I wouldn’t want to . . . um . . .” Adam floundered, but it seemed like he was the only one feeling any distress. Kyle walked on, head up, looking around him like he was trying to remember every tree they passed.
“You won’t.” He shrugged a little, though he might have been adjusting the backpack. “Well, you might, I guess, but there’s no way to know, really. I don’t know from day to day. Most of the time it’s okay and I can talk about her and it’s fine, but then there are these random days where it’s not like that, like I can’t pretend, and . . .” He definitely shrugged the second time.
“But I don’t want to . . .” Hurt you seemed so cliché.
Kyle seemed to know what he meant. He took Adam’s hand in his and squeezed as they walked up the path. A family was coming toward them, not anyone Adam recognized from town or from the school. Kyle didn’t let go of his hand. He might have held on tighter. The heat of their palms rippled all the way up his arm to his shoulder and through his chest.
“You will,” Kyle said after the family had passed, and it took Adam a second to remember what they were talking about. “You’ll say the wrong thing sometimes. Whether you mean to or not, but it won’t be your fault. We can’t not talk about her, and I don’t want to pretend she never existed, or that I don’t miss her just so it doesn’t get uncomfortable between us. You’ll know when it’s not a good day to bring Olivia’s name up.” Kyle leaned in on the tips of his toes and kissed Adam’s cheek without losing a step. Adam liked the idea that he was planning more days for them together, including the not-so-good ones.
“I’ll try,” he said.
Kyle flashed a smile at him, a broad grin that helped ease the tightness in his chest.
“She’d have liked you,” Kyle said.
“Yeah?” Someone else had said that to him once about a partner. At the time, it had been Daniel, trying to justify their breakup by arguing that his new boyfriend was really nice. Adam hadn’t felt very nice at the time and hadn’t been inclined to believe Dan, but he hoped Kyle was telling him the truth now.
“Yeah.” Kyle squeezed Adam’s hand again. “For one thing, you’re gorgeous and she always did appreciate a good-looking guy.”
“And she got saddled with your goofy face every morning?” Adam took the obvious jab, though it was too easy to be satisfying.
“Lapse in judgment, but I wasn’t going to point that out. Thanks for that. And she cared about her family too,” Kyle said. “They weren’t always the most supportive bunch; they were all doctors and professors, and I don’t think they always understood her choices—starving artist in the city and all that—but I know they really mattered to her. She had a sister that she was close to, sort of like you are with Rebecca.”
Adam suppressed a grimace at that. Sometimes he felt like an unwilling participant in Rebecca’s mandatory exercises in family togetherness, but she had been a critical part to his success in settling in Red Creek, particularly in those first few lonely months as he adjusted to a new town, new job, new everything. He hadn’t realized at the time that letting her be so involved in his life then would mean a lifetime of nosy text messages and advice, but it was too late to do anything now but grin and bear it.
“Are you still close with them? Olivia’s family?” Adam asked. Kyle squinted his eyes a little. Adam could see his lips moving, though he didn’t say anything, like he was choosing his words carefully.
“They still talk to Caroline every week,” Kyle said, which wasn’t really an answer. “And I promised to take her to see them this summer. But they’re still out west and . . .” his smile quirked to one side, “well, if they didn’t always understand Olivia’s decisions, they definitely didn’t understand how I fit into everything.”
Adam considered that. He hadn’t thought about whether Caroline might have other extended family. He imagined these unknown grandparents trying to make sense of Kyle and his rapid-fire monologues when he was nervous.
“Their loss, then,” he said.
Kyle nodded and his face turned playful again. “I’ll say. I mean, it’s not every day you can say you knew the president of the Hot Mess Club before he was famous.”
They arrived at the van as the sun cast long shadows across the parking lot. Adam was disappointed as he realized their date was coming to an end. They’d shared an important moment on their walk back, and despite his anxiety over talking about Olivia, Kyle had made the moment feel safe. Nervous hope fluttered in Adam’s chest, nearly impossible to contain. He’d been attracted to Kyle from the moment they’d met, but now what was growing between them went beyond attraction. They were finding common ground.
As they approached the van, Kyle’s phone chirped. Notifications beeped repeatedly.
“Everything okay?” Adam asked.
“Yeah, fine. There must not have been much signal out on the trail.” His face was strained.
“You’re sure?”
Kyle’s expression turned devilish in a way that made Adam heat as Kyle closed the space between them, crowding up against Adam. Kyle’s breath washed against his neck.
“You know”—Kyle’s hands slid up the inside of Adam’s shirt—“all evidence to the contrary, I do have my shit together. You don’t need to take care of me.”
Adam tipped his head back. He arched against the van, as Kyle’s palms roamed over his body. Kyle continued to kiss under his jaw, and Adam groaned. He was warm from the walk and the heat of Kyle’s body against his made him light-headed, but that might also have been because he panted as Kyle’s mouth slid up over his chin. It was a relief when Adam could finally kiss him properly.
His hands grasped at Kyle’s hair as he held him in place. He tried to say anything and everything he was feeling without the words that he knew wouldn’t convey half of it. He didn’t know how to tell Kyle he didn’t care if Kyle didn’t have his shit together, as long as they were honest with each other. And he wasn’t going to say that he hoped they’d take care of each other.
He groaned again as Kyle ground up against him. Adam was half-hard already in his shorts. He’d never been a big fan of PDAs, but as his tongue pressed into Kyle’s mouth, he was sure that he would do anything Kyle asked him to do, right there in the parking lot against the world’s oldest minivan. Eventually, they pulled back, gasping. Kyle’s sunglasses were askew and his lips were puffy, and Adam desperately wanted to continue. Kyle must have seen the need on his face, because he smiled, pressing one kiss to Adam’s collarbone.
“Come on, Mr. Hathaway,” he said. “Let’s get you home before an unsuspecting forest ranger finds us and has to hose us down.”