Ohhellno. Now that Jeff knew there was a chance, however slim—and he was desperately trying to bury the quiet but insistent notion that Carter 100 percent knew Jeff had sung that song for him, that if he did he’d almost certainly guessed that Jeff had sung hundreds of songs for him, many of which he’d penned himself—he wasn’t letting Pacey McNaughton think he had a second shot. “Nah. He broke up with you. He doesn’t deserve the truth.” He paused. “Heabsolutelywould’ve set your shit on fire, though.”
“Oh, no doubt,” Carter agreed, nodding. “Dodged a bullet on that one.”
They grinned at each other, and just like that, everything was fine.
Well. Except Jeff still didn’t have any groceries. He sighed and got to his feet, then pulled Carter up after him. “Come on. I think you owe me ice cream.”
IF JEFFexpected things to be weird after that—awkward or different in any way—he would’ve been disappointed. But things didn’t change much, at least not outwardly. Carter still worked way too much—apparently “night shift” meant, like, birdwatching for owls or something, which was kind of cool, but when he wasn’t at the park, he was filling in when his mom needed him at the garage. And Jeff was still avoiding anything that even remotely resembled writing, because if he picked up a pen, he would be forced to confront his feelings about Carter being bi. He’d have to think about what it could mean that Carter touched himall the time, that he texted Jeff just because. That he’d sent him a selfie that belonged in the centerfold of a certain kind of magazine.
Jeff didn’t have the emotional bandwidth for that and he couldn’t afford to have his heart crushed again. He was perfectly happy sublimating, thank you very much.
In Carter’s somehow still-existent off hours, they managed to make time for the odd lunch or dinner or campfire.
This morning brought something slightly more athletic.
“Tell me the truth,” Jeff demanded as they made their way down one of the more treacherous hiking trails, which wended along the rockier part of the shore. “How do you have time to stay in shape? We’ve established that you don’t even have time to sleep.”
“You think being a park naturalist is all driving around and eating donuts?” Carter teased as he easily scaled a boulder.
“I mean, that’s howI’ddo it.” He was debating where to grip for the best leverage when Carter’s hand came into his field of view. He took it without thinking and let Carter help him up. At the top, Carter steadied him with a hand on his hip. “I know it’s notalldriving around, but it’s not all wilderness hikes and kayaking either.”
He was proud of himself for getting out a full sentence with the distraction of Carter touching him.
“No,” Carter agreed a heartbeat later, drawing his hand away as he turned back to the path. “But I mean, when I’m not here, I’m at the garage, and that still gets pretty physical. And you know me. I’m not good at sitting still.”
“Have you evertriedit?” Jeff countered as Carter hopped down to the next rock. “You never know. You might find out you like it.”
“A rolling stone gathers no moss.”
“What’s wrong with moss? Isn’t moss, like, key to the ecosystem?” Jeff slipped a little but caught himself. “Hey, hold up, would you? If I break something, Tim’s going to have kittens.” Mean, ugly kittens.
Carter looked back, expression mock contrite. “Sorry,” he said. “I always forget about your short little legs—”
But his words cut off abruptly and the contrition on his face morphed to surprise and then dismay as he went sideways. There was a clatter of rocks and then a splash.
Fuck!“Carter!”
“Ow,” came the sound from the other side of the large outcropping.
Well, at least he was conscious. Jeff carefully picked his way around until Carter came into view. He was breathing, no obvious trauma, lying on his back in a shallow pool of water. “Are you okay?” It didn’t look like he’d hit his head, but God knew his skull was thick enough. It might not bleed on the outside.
“Yeah.” Carter groaned as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Foot got stuck and I lost my balance. Not the greatest look for a naturalist.”
“Lucky you’re out of uniform today,” Jeff quipped. He backed up toward Carter’s feet, partly to get a better look and see if he’d twisted anything but partly so he wouldn’t stare at Carter’s non-uniform—a white T-shirt that was now completely translucent. “You can fly under the radar.” He knelt next to Carter’s feet, wincing at the cold water on his knees. “Which one got stuck?”
“The right one.” Jeff looked up in time to catch Carter’s grimace as he rotated his foot, and then had to look back down quickly, because staring up the length of Carter’s body while he lay prone like that would lead to madness.
Jeff wasn’t a medic by any stretch, but the foot didn’t look like it was moving with the range of motion it should. “That doesn’t look good.” Definitely bad enough to warrant a trip to a doctor, maybe even X-rays. “Think you can stand?”
“Yeah, if you help me up.” Carter groaned and bent his left leg up toward his ass. “Come give me a hand.”
Jeff rose and stepped closer, mindful of the loose stones under his feet. He made sure he had solid footing before he leaned down and grasped Carter’s hand. He could see Carter’s nipples through his shirt—tiny little brown-pink buds that were hard with the cold. “Ready?”
Carter nodded, and Jeff pulled. Unsurprisingly, Carter was heavy. Equally unsurprising, he was strong as fuck. He got upright with his weight balanced on his left foot, his wet right side plastered against Jeff.
“How are you so heavy?” Jeff asked in an attempt to distract himself. Despite the damp, Carter’s body was hot and firm and clean-smelling. Jeff had to resist the urge to turn his face into his chest and just… inhale. “Seriously, do you eat bricks?”
Carter panted with exertion, his chest pressing against Jeff’s shoulder as he braced him. “What do you think I wash down those dozen eggs with?”