“Well, he’s not going out on calls with us, so any ‘blowing up’ will just be tension, and you can ship him back to where he came from. But c’mon, you gave me a chance, and look how that turned out.”
His expression was deadpan. “You’re not really gonna use yourself as an example, right?”
“Why? You afraid that now the gay sex door has been opened you’re going to want to plow his ass so hard he can’t walk right for an hour afterward too?”
“No,” he said, giving me a push. “And shut up.”
“It’s what you do,” I chuckled, grabbing his wrist and pulling myself closer. “And if you promise not to sulk all day, and put that bad mood away, I’ll let you take your mood out on my ass later.”
“You’ll do it anyway,” he said with a shake of his head. “If I told you to be in my cabin at ten, clothes off, on your knees and ready for me to fuck your face, you would be.”
“True,” I admitted, poking the end of his nose and smiling when he growled. “But isn’t that a better way to deal with a bad mood than sitting out here, glaring at the woods like they offended you?”
“You offend me,” he snarled, slapping my hand away. “Quit!”
“Or what? You’ll fuck me stupid…again?”
“Quit!”
I laughed when he reached for me, dodging out of the way because while I trusted him, I knew I was getting on his nerves. “Now, admit you feel at least a little better.”
“Fuck off,” he said, but I could see the shadow that had been over his expression was gone.
“So I shouldn’t stop by your cabin tonight, then?” I wondered as I inched away from his fingers. “I was thinking we could share a shower. I know how much you appreciated the first time you saw me in the shower.”
“It’s clear no one ever beat your ass for that mouth,” he growled as he got to his feet.
I raised an eyebrow. “Were you not paying attention when I told you about me getting hate-crimed?”
He stopped, and his horror was touching and comical. “That’s not?—”
“It absolutely was funny,” I said, inching closer. “Kinda like how you don’t get to say that I can’t use a certain slur for myself, you can’t tell me I can’t make jokes about fucked-up shit I put to rest years ago. Especially when it makes you panic a little.”
“Idiot,” he snarled, and I laughed when he yanked me into his chest again.
“Probably,” I said, tilting my head up to smile at him. “So…your cabin? Shower? Tonight?”
“Fine,” he grumbled, and I had to hold back a laugh. Mostly because he’d ask what was so funny, and if I told him it was because I realized the big, scary, grumpy butthead was getting wrapped around my finger, he’d be livid. I didn’t mind that being my little secret though.
“Now, are you going to be nice to the new guy? He’s had a hard enough day as it is.”
“Sounds like Mika’s ain’t been much better.”
“Well, he could probably have someone check on him. Wanna do that?”
“He’s an adult.”
“You’re the idiot,” I said as I stepped back, “if you think for a minute, I believe you don’t give a fuck about him. So why don’tyou come say hi to Aidan so he knows what kind of dickhead he’s working under, and then you can go find Mika. And don’t tell them what you know. Mika will stress if he thinks you know about his business, and Aidan will feel even more awkward.”
“What are you, my fucking mother?”
“I feel like I could turn that into a dirty joke, but the amount of effort wouldn’t be worth it.”
“You’re fucking stupid.”
“Yeah,” I agreed and gave his wrist a tug. “Now come play nice with the other kids and maybe I’ll let you have a juice box.”
Which was the exact moment I needed to move at a quicker pace, as I heard him lumber after me with an annoyed growl. At least it couldn’t be said that he was still thinking about his ex-wife, so I counted it as a victory.