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I answer the video call and prop the phone on a small table next to the bench, sitting up to get a better angle on the camera.

“Hey! There he is. Long time no see man.”

“Hey Owen. It’s good to see you too.”

“Where are you now? Last time I talked to you I think you were back in South America somewhere.”

I hadn’t told Owen precisely that I was making my way back towards Alaska. I wasn’t even sure if I was going to go back or not. Something inside me forced me to sail this way. Not sure why. Maybe just missing my friends? Although I didn’t like the warm south as much as I thought I would. Too sticky, and full of people. I never realized I didn’t like crowded places until I was in the middle of one. Tourists covered in white creamy sunblock and completely forgetting their common sense. Utterly annoying.

“Still in the south,” I say avoiding answering his question directly.

“Well, wherever you are, it looks sunny and warm.”

“It is.”

Tossing my empty bottle in the recycle bin where it belongs, I pull another from the built-in cooler on deck and pop the top chugging a mouth full.

“What’s that on your wrist?”

I look down at my wrists not sure what he’s referring to, spotting the turquoise-colored rope wrapped twice around my wrist. I’ve been wearing it for so long now I’d nearly forgotten about it. It’s the curtain tie from Bambi’s apartment that I used to tie her wrists together. I pocketed it before leaving and after realizing I had no intention of removing it from my wrist, I went to a metal worker and had them fashion a clasp for it so I wouldn’t have to worry about large knots and dangling tassels. Although I did keep a tassel and turn it into a keychain which now dangles from the floater and key for my boat.

The small rope is long enough to wrap around my wrist twice comfortably. I never expected to be a jewelry type of guy, but I made an exception. Wearing Bambi’s rope_the one that wrapped so beautifully around her skin_on my body, became a type of solace. A way to quiet the tumultuous storm that seems to be raging nonstop in my chest these days.

“Is that a rope?” Owen continues, squinting and moving his face close to the screen as if that’ll make it easier to see. “I knew you were into that kind of thing, but I thought you liked to tie them up? Not the other way around.”

Owen knows about my proclivity for bondage, to a degree. He doesn’t talk about it around others but has no problem taunting me about it in private whenever he gets the chance.

“Yes, it’s a rope. Is that why you called me? To chastise me on my choice of jewelry?” I tease him right back, hopefully deflecting any further questions about the rope and its significance.

“Like to keep it handy just in case, huh?” Owen bounces his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, and I’ll let him believe whatever he wants. As long as he doesn’t know the truth of it.

“Oh yeah, there are so many eager women just lining up on my dock waiting for me to tie them up with my bracelet rope,” I drawl sardonically while taking another swig of my beer.

It feels nice to jest with Owen after so many weeks and months away. I’ve made a few friends along the way, even had a few offers from women. All of which I turned down. Apparently, my dick wants nothing to do with anyone who isn’t Bambi, because she’s the only one I can think about while jerking off. Which is the only way I get off these days. Now I know what people mean when they say going through a dry spell. Although I suppose mine is self-inflicted.

“Maybe there are. How would I know? Because I’m not with you. I’m all the way back here in boring old Alaska, not gallivanting all over the world.”

“So how are things back home?” I ask, subtly hoping to entice him to tell me everything about Bambi and what she’s up to. His last update wasn’t very informative. Just a simple“Everyone’s doing fine. Nothing new.”Which was not helpful in the least.

“Oh, you know how spring is. Boats getting ready to go out, tourists showing back up little by little. Looks like we’re going to have an influx of moose this year, must have had a good mating season.” He moves around wherever he is, the screen shifting as he moves before settling again when he sits. “Oh shit, speaking of mating, Raelyn is pregnant.”

“What?!”

The world stops spinning and the tiny piece of my heart that managed to survive childhood because of Bambi, falls and shatters against my ribs. I’ve only been gone six months. How the hell did she manage to find someone so fast and get knocked up? He must be wrong, or I must have heard him wrong. There’s no way my Bambi is pregnant…without me.The words echo through my head in a quiet whisper. Am I upset because she’s pregnant, or because she’s pregnant with someone else’s baby?

“Yeah, surprised the shit out of me too. Apparently, Izzy knew all along though.”

“Who’s the father?” I demand, interrupting whatever he was about to say. It can’t be more important than finding out what asshole took advantage of my Bambi. Because now I may have a reason to return to Alaska. To kill the bastard.

“Why? You gonna come home and beat him up like you did that guy in high school for touching your precious Bambi?”

Maybe.

He’s trying to provoke me, and he knows it. He also knows I hate when anyone but me calls her Bambi.

“Watch it, Owen.”

I can hear him laughing, but I don’t bother looking at him, facing the open ocean instead, trying to tamp down the possessive jealousy I’m unable to hide.