Camden looked up from the game he was playing on his tablet and hitched a brow. “You’re not swimming. You’re just kissing and being boring.”
I rumbled a chuckle and turned back to August, sliding my arms around his neck. “You hear that? We’re boring.”
He closed the distance and smiled into a lazy kiss. “So very boring.”
I hummed, easily getting lost in another moment with him.
It was what the past few days had consisted of. Moments of absolute fucking bliss. Memories for a lifetime. Glimpses of a pipe dream.
We spent our days around the pool, fucking, swapping life stories, eating good food, enjoying the early summer heat, and then we went inside after dinner, after the sun had set. We’d caught a game together and watched a few movies. Last night, we stayed up till dawn, just talking and being with one another. Camden had fallen asleep with his head on my lap. He came and went as he pleased, busy playing with his toys or shouting at a video game, and sometimes he was sneaky. The other day when August had fucked me over the couch in the den across from the kitchen, we’d found Camden watching us discreetly from one of the entryways.
August and I were both learning that Camden evidently liked to watch—he was curious about everything he called “grown-up games”—but he didn’t want to participate.
It was new to them, too, since they hadn’t invited anyone into their relationship for years.
My back hit the wall of the pool, and August cupped my jaw as he deepened the kiss and swept his tongue into my mouth. He was the first man I’d been with who was as physically loving as me, and it was liberating to be able to spend hours just kissing and holding each other without worrying that the other was going to get sick of it.
“Daddy, can we make pizza today?” Camden asked. “It’s Anthony’s favorite.”
I chuckled, out of breath, then promptly swallowed a bout of unease when it struck me how much I adored the boy. Fuck. It felt heavy. Enough that my smile faltered, and I had to clear my throat and avert my eyes.
The two men were like night and day, as were my reactions to them, but the end result was the same. I couldn’t imagine one without the other, and two types of feelings were still equal when stacked up next to each other.
“Pizza sounds great, darlin’,” August replied. “I’ll dust off the pizza oven in a bit.”
“Of course you have your own pizza oven.” I forced a casual grin and swam backward toward the stairs.
“Of course we do.” He smirked back. “Where do you think you’re goin’? I wasn’t done with you.”
But one day very soon, he would be, and I needed to get my shit together.
“I thought I’d call Nicky. I’ve avoided him long enough.” Avoid was a strong word, but he’d put two and two together after I’d posted a photo on Instagram of me replacing a string on my guitar and saying I was looking forward to the gig on Saturday. My brother had seen the picturesque background of August and Camden’s patio and pool area in the photo and texted me something about my shitty motel having surprisingly high standards. His way of asking where I really was.
He’d also asked how I’d come to play at the food festival, after which he’d let me know that our sad Facebook page—that hadn’t seen an update in over a year—had gotten two hundred new likes overnight.
That last tidbit with the new likes had made it easy for me to dodge his other questions.
“I mean, you could tell him the truth,” August drawled.
“And what’s that?” I had to go there, didn’t I?
He swam over to me, trapping me against the wide steps. “That you’ve been kidnapped by a Southerner and a desertin’ Yankee.”
I let out a breathy chuckle and shook my head. “I think he’d have follow-up questions to that.”
“Mm.” He dropped his gaze to my mouth and kissed me quickly. “Tell him that any further information is rated R. Or NC-17. Or however porn is rated.”
I laughed and nipped at his jaw. “I’ll think of something.”
I had no plans to hide whatever I was going to say, though. August could listen in. It mattered to me that he didn’t want to be too discreet where I was concerned, and I wanted him to know I was on the same page.
After getting out of the pool, I snatched up a towel from one of the loungers and wrapped it around my hips. When you were around a man like August, you wanted to be naked as much as possible, and we had no reason to wear trunks in the water. But Camden blushed and stammered as soon as he saw our “things,” so it was best to cover up. Sometimes, anyway.
I grabbed my phone from under my tee and called my brother, fairly certain he didn’t have classes right now. Then I walked over to the barbecue area and lit up a smoke.
“Howdy, stranger!” Nicky answered. “Am I sayin’ that right? I wanna make sure my brother understands me now that he’s abandoned the north, I do declare.”
I snorted and sat down in a chair. “That’s gotta be the worst Southern accent I’ve ever heard.”
“Col cazzo! I nailed it.” He sucked his teeth. “How are you?”
“I’m good—I’m really good.” I exhaled some smoke through my nose. “How’s everything at home?”
“Same, same. Good. Pop’s nervous about us leaving. Both sweet as fuck and annoying as shit.”
I grinned to myself and imagined Pop calling Nicky at all hours of the day, asking what time they were leaving New York. “I guess you’ll start packing soon, eh?”
“Soon? Son, we packed two days ago. I ain’t doin’ nuthin’ last minute, and I live with a worrier. Gideon says hi, by the way.”
I opened my mouth
