Page 76 of Rule 4: Never Get Stranded with a Sports Reporter

I can be... me.

Rain wakes me up. Thunder roars, and Cal and I stagger up.

“Fuck,” I say. “The fire.”

The sky is black as we hurry across the beach, wind-driven rain lashing the back of my neck.

By the time we reach the shelter made of palm fronds and branches, my clothes are drenched. I take Cal’s hand, and usher him into the small space. “Watch your head.”

Cal drops to the ground. I’ve layered it with palm fronds, but it’s no substitute for a real house. Still, it’s an improvement.

“We should have slept here,” I say mournfully.

“I can dream you’re taking me swimming.”

I laugh, then realize Cal is shaking.

“Baby.” I pull him close.

Cal inhales sharply, but I pull him onto the ground with me.

The shelter is tiny, not big enough for us to stand in, but big enough to protect us from the elements.

I pull him against my chest, face to face, and frown. Usually Cal runs warm—I’ve noticed it when we sleep together, the way his skin always feels like he’s been sitting in the sun. But now he’s ice-cold.

His shirt is soaked, and I tear it off. “Feeling romantic?” he asks, still shivering.

Then he tenses. “Not that what we’re doing is romantic.”

“Be quiet,” I tell him.

My wet shirt is probably not helping him get warm, and I slide him forward. “One moment.”

I take off my shirt as quickly as I can. Cal continues to shiver, and I hate it.

“S-sorry,” he stammers. “J-just a b-bit ch-chilly.”

“Uh-huh.” I plop him back against my chest and run my hands over his body. “You’re going to be fine.”

I hope I’m correct. Worry fills me. It’s not like there’s a pharmacy here.

“I-I know,” he says. “I-I h-have you.”

I tighten my grip around him, and kiss his forehead. “That’s right, baby.”

He stiffens again, but I don’t take it back.

“I really like you,” I tell him.

“And I-I said you weren’t being romantic.”

“Hey! You only stuttered once,” I say proudly. “You’re warming up!”

He snorts, and I grin into his neck, as I continue to run my arms around his body.

My cock perks up, because slippery Cal is something my body appreciates and likes. A lot.

The rain patters harder for real, doing its best to blow down the shelter.