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Carter looks up at me from where he rests on my chest like I’ve grown two heads, but I know my words ring true. He doesn’t say anything else, but I can tell they affected him. I hope he takes the advice that’s so easily and freely given. I wish it wasn’t so hard for me to take my own.

At some point during the movie, Carter’s shirt has ridden up, my fingers toying with the bare skin, rubbing soft circles and loving the pressure of his body against mine.

“I can feel your hard dick in my back, Nash.”

“If you weren’t such a tease, Hayes, I’d be able to stay flaccid for more than five minutes.”

“I can’t help you with that. Pretty sure my dick is raw and my balls are empty from how much we’ve fucked around this weekend.”

“I can fix that for you.”

“Watch the movie, Finn.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tonight, it’s not even a question of where we’ll sleep. Carter climbs into bed with only his boxer briefs on, and I slip inbehind him, his back to my chest, our limbs twined together, my arm wrapped around his waist.

“I’ve never slept next to anyone before you,” Carter whispers the admission, barely audible over the white noise from his phone, but I hear him clear as day.

“Me neither.”

The next day, Carter and I wake up slowly, something I don’t do often, but am really enjoying the pace of. I make us a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, and Carter pours us both coffees, leaving mine black and pouring way too much milk and sugar into his own.

“You up for the beach today?” I ask him, wanting to get his ass out in the sun and into the ocean.

“Hell yeah. You have surfing here in Maine?”

I give him a little laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, we got surfing here in Maine.”

Our entire morning is very domestic, but neither of us makes comments, just move around each other like two people who’ve lived with each other for years rather than days. We clean up from breakfast and then head to our bedrooms. We each change into our swim shorts, pull the surfboards and some beach supplies from the mud room, and Carter helps me strap everything down before we hit the road.

We drive the Jeep with the windows down, Carter’s arm resting on the windowsill, my hand itching to hold his, but not wanting to make the move. I take him to a three-mile stretch of beach on the coast of Emberleigh that has prime surfing. As we take our spot on the beach, I look out at a group of people whoare already out in the ocean, and the waves look perfect. It’s a hot one today, and I spray myself down with sunscreen and toss Carter the bottle once I’m done with it.

“What? Not gonna lotion me up, Nash? What gives?”

“C’mere, my baby, daddy’ll take care of his boy,” I coo, my arms outstretched reaching for him.

He barks out a loud laugh, batting my hands away. “Fuck off with that shit!”

I laugh with him as I pick up my board.

“Race you, Hayes?”

“Get ready to eat shit, Nash. Winner gets a blow job.”

“Deal.” Knowing this is not a bet I’m losing today, I shove him in the chest and take off.

“You dirty fucking cheat!”

My feet slap the water’s edge as Carter’s palm connects with my back, giving me a hard shove and knocking me off balance. I catch him tossing the surfboard down and fall on top of it, pushing under a wave as I follow him into the ocean, laughing. We paddle out next to each other until we take a seat and wait for the perfect ride.

“I won, so don’t even try to get out of it,” I tell him with a smile.

“Yeah, ’cause you’re a cheat. I should have known better by now.” He says the words, but there’s no grit behind them; he’s being playful back, and my heart swells.

“Damn right. Anything to get you.”

“That so?”