You can’t define yourself by who you’re dating. But you can decide what’s important to you—the job, the mission, the message, the ethics, the people. And you can make your choices accordingly.
Does this really help you get your man—yourperson? I think it does. I think it’s important that the people in a relationship come to some kind of consensus on what the best version of themselves looks like.
Besides, this way, if the relationship ends prematurely, at least one of you will still like you when it’s over.
Chapter Thirteen
CARTER WASvisibly uncomfortable on the plane, even in business class, even with the heavy anti-inflammatories the doctor had prescribed. Jeff felt bad about it—Carter was only on the stupid plane because of him—but whenever he opened his mouth to apologize, Carter gave him a look and said, “Don’t.”
And then, instead of apologizing, Jeff had to say, “So if I chartered us a private jet, do you think we could—” and then Carter shoved his dinner roll into Jeff’s mouth.
“No private jets,” he said firmly. “Sure, it’s mostly huge companies that are responsible for climate change, but that’s a bigger carbon footprint than I’m comfortable being a part of.”
Jeff took a bite of the dinner roll and set the rest down on his tray. “I could just jerk you off under the blanket instead,” he offered, voice pitched low. “You know. As a distraction.”
This turned out to be a mistake.
Most of the discomfort melted right off Carter’s face and was replaced by what Jeff could only describe as evil lust. “I have a better idea.”
Carter apparently took Jeff’s words as a challenge to get him as worked up as possible without touching his dick. Between the tray table and the blanket Jeff had thrown over his lap out of habit when he sat down, no one could see anything, but he was intensely aware of even the slightest twitch of Carter’s fingers as he gently, teasingly massaged his way from Jeff’s knee to the top of his thigh. By the time he reached Jeff’s groin, Jeff was frozen in his seat, afraid to move lest he shove Carter’s hand down over his crotch and buck against it until he came.
When he was sure he couldn’t take another second, Carter drew his hand back, and a flight attendant came around and took away their dinner trays.
“I hate you,” Jeff hissed, flushed all over and aching in his jeans.
“No, you don’t,” Carter said blithely as he stowed his tray table. He glanced over and smiled evilly. “Thanks for the distraction. It really helped.”
Jeff gritted his teeth until the flight attendant’s cart had gone by and he could escape to the bathroom.
Apart from that, the flight was uneventful. They landed in Vancouver and deplaned to find a postcard-perfect day waiting for them, the late afternoon sun washing everything with warmth. The water in the Strait of Georgia was a deep, glassy blue, and the Coast Mountains rose in the distance, capped with snow.
The view from their hotel room was just as nice.
“Wow.” Carter wheeled his scooter over to the window and set his laptop bag down on the desk. “Swanky.”
“Only the best for you.”
Carter half turned to give him a look at that, because yeah, Jeff had booked the room before he knew Carter was going to be sharing with him, but whatever. He’d also upgraded after Carter said yes.
Carter sat at the desk while Jeff tipped the bellhop. Then Jeff flopped onto the couch in the sitting room and stretched. He was still worked up from the flight. “Sooo… plans?”
Carter swiveled toward him, hands between his splayed knees. Jeff was tired, part jet lag, part travel, and he still kind of wanted to crawl across the room and put his face in Carter’s crotch. “I was actually about to ask you that. I’ve got a couple things I need to check on for work, but I didn’t know if we had dinner reservations or….”
Jeff had been thinking maybe romantic room service, but a night out could be good. In fact, a night out would preclude Carter from spending the whole evening on his laptop the way he had yesterday in Toronto, as though he were trying to make up for not being present for work in person by working twice as many hours.
“We should go out,” Jeff decided. They didn’t have a lot of time in BC—the first concert was tomorrow, then the follow-up the next day, and the day after that they’d fly out again, Carter back to Willow Sound and Jeff and the rest of Howl to their gig in Calgary. “I’ll look for something close by.”
“Sounds good.” Carter was already unpacking his laptop. “Do you mind if I work for a few? I’m pretty sure I’ll have another email from Emily. She’s been trying to track the impact of climate change on wildlife populations across Canada’s parks, but the data’s kind of a raw mess. I’m trying to help her track down better sources.”
Jeff had no idea if that was part of Carter’s actual job or if he was just such a keener that he couldn’t help himself, but he waved his hand. “Have at it. It’s early for dinner anyway. The longer we wait, the less jet lag will suck.”
“Thanks.”
Unfortunately, Jeff had underestimated his own exhaustion and Carter’s commitment to work. He fell asleep on the couch googling restaurants and woke up an hour and a half later to Carter touching his shoulder.
“You were saying about the jet lag?” Carter said, amused.
“Mmph.” Jeff rolled his neck to try to work out a kink. Outside, the setting sun burnished the mountains in red-gold. “You woke me up in time for the show.”
