Hi guys!
A much lighter chapter after last week's monster. And some yummy sexytimes I will never look at chocolate fondue the same way again.
Thanks to those of you leaving wonderful comments! I really appreciate all the kind words. Please keep leaving those commentsβI LIVE for them!!
Yours,
Hudson
Copyright Β© 2018 by Hudson Bartholomew. All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Embracing the Tension - Chapter 7
They had turned off the major highway about thirty minutes earlier and were now slowly navigating their way through roads that were little more than trails covered with hard-packed snow. The drive had taken them nearly four hours, leaving the sleepy streets of Toronto before dawn and heading north on Highway 400. The sun was slow to say good morning, as the sky gradually became less dark before it started becoming brighter.
When the rest of the world finally awoke, they had stopped in some small, out-of-the-way town for breakfast. Erik had no idea where they were, but Ryan seemed to know exactly where he was going and exactly which breakfast place he wanted to eat at. The place served greasy sausages, runny eggs, and perfectly crisp toast with those little packets of butter and jam, washed down with surprising strong coffee. Simple. Unassuming.
Then back on the road. Erik was a morning person, and he wanted to know where they were going, what Rachel and Tom's cottage was like, the names of the little towns they'd been passing. Ryan was not a morning person, and all of Erik's questions had been met with short, pointed answers. Erik stopped asking after the first twenty minutes.
Instead, their hands had found each other over the middle console of Ryan's car, and their thumbs had amused themselves with tracing circles on the other's skin. The silence was comfortable, like a warm blanket wrapped around them, keeping them cozy, together and safe. And as Erik watched the busyness of the city fade into the sheared rock walls on either side of the highway and the dense forests that sat on top, he felt himself transported to another world.
That morning, even as Ryan moved as one half-asleep, they had packed the car with an easy efficiency, shifting around each other as if they'd been doing it for yearsβa squeeze on the hip as one passed behind the other, bags handed off with a quick kiss.
Breakfast had been easy, too. Ryan opening the door for him with a hand on his lower back to usher him inside. Their feet had hooked around each other's ankles as they ate. If they had drawn looks from the small-town crowd, Erik hadn't noticed. In the car, Erik found his gaze drifting toward Ryan's profile, and every time it did, he was rewarded with a quick squeeze from Ryan's hand and that lopsided grin.
Hungerβthe word floated into Erik's mind. Not a physical hunger; they'd just eaten. But a hunger, nevertheless, this one much deeper than physical. A hunger so deep that he'd forgotten he was hungry, and the empty gnawing was only making itself known because he had gotten a taste of what could be. The clarity with which that realization dawned on Erik was more than a little startling. He'd never felt as if his life lacked for anything; yet here he was, hungry for something he didn't even know he wanted.
"Almost there." Ryan squinted through the reflection of the morning sun off the snow-laden road. He had popped on sunglasses when it got too bright, but the angle of the sun, hitting the whiteness of the untainted snow and the way the road wound its way between trees too stubborn to be cut down made it difficult to judge exactly where the road ended and the forest began.
The car came to a halt, and Erik followed Ryan's gaze as it turned to the left. "Yes, here it is."
"Here" didn't look like anything to Erik. It was more packed snow in the middle of naked trees. But the snowy path was just wide enough to accommodate their car as it turned slowly, taking them deeper into the forest. Then, out of nowhere the forest cleared and they found themselves in another snow-packed clearing, the other side of which was an even larger snow-laden field.
Ryan drove the car to the other side of the clearing, slipped it into park, and sighed. "We're here."
"And where exactly is here?"
All Erik got in response was that infuriating grin and shrug. He followed Ryan out of the car, cringing at the biting sub-freezing temperature that greeted his skin. The boots that Ryan insisted he buy crunched in the snow, and Erik was grateful for that extra pair of socks he'd pulled on that morning.
Ryan was brushing snow off what looked like a large shed; it was difficult to tell with it all covered in white. With a bit of metal clanging against metal, a door swung open, and Ryan disappeared inside. When Erik peeked his head in, he couldn't see anything but black, with bright spots dancing in his eyes.
"You're blocking the sun," Ryan said. "There's no light in here, so we have to let the sun in."
"Oh." Erik moved farther in and shifted off to the side. With the doorway clear for the light, Erik could see that they were standing in a large storage shed. Several canoes sat upside down in racks along the center of the shed; paddles and lifejackets hung on the far wall. Plastic and wooden sleds were propped up next to racks of weird rectangular contraptions. "What is this place?"
"Remember how I said there's no road access to the cottage?" Ryan said. He pulled a couple of the rectangular contraptions from the wall and handed them to Erik.
"Yeah..." Erik did remember, but to be honest, he hadn't really understood what that meant.
"So, this is how we get to the cottage."
"What is how we get to the cottage?"
"Snowshoes." Ryan nodded at what Erik held in his hands.
"These are snowshoes?" Erik took a second look at the aluminum frames covered by a thick but flexible plastic. In the middle were a bunch of straps, and Erik could sort of make out where his foot would go. "I thought snowshoes were made of wood and leather and looked like tennis rackets."
Ryan burst out laughing in his low rumbly way, and the sound tickled the middle of Erik's chest.
"You're describing old-school snowshoes, vintage ones. I don't think even schools use those anymore. We're a little more high tech these days." Ryan grabbed one of the wooden sleds and dragged it toward the door.
"So, we use snowshoes to get to the cottage?" Erik asked as he followed Ryan back out into the sun.
"Yep." Ryan dropped the sled next to the car. "What are you doing? You're going to freeze to death like that."