Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Bridges
“Which seat would you prefer?” West and I stood in the aisle at the front of the plane, the first to board.
“Do you mind if I have the window?” West’s eyes were round as he looked up at me, almost as if he was surprised I’d given him a choice. I was guessing that since Claude’s will had been read, West didn’t feel he had many choices anymore.
“Not at all.” I gladly gave it to him. It worked for me because I needed the extra legroom the aisle would afford me. I tossed my duffel bag in the overhead and then took his backpack and shoved it next to my worn leather bag that had seen a lot of miles in the air.
It was only fair that I give Alexis and Steph a bit of luxury since they were sacrificing a three-day weekend for us.
Of course, I hated sitting back in the main cabin because of my long legs, and I wasn’t about to have West sit by himself back there, so I used some of my frequent air travel miles to secure us all seats in first class.
“Do you have any issues with flying?” I asked as I buckled my seatbelt.
“No, I’m fine with the flying. It’s just the take-off and the landing that scare the crap out of me,” he answered as he buckled his own.
When he glanced up at me through his lashes, my imagination went into overdrive, and an image of him on his knees in front of me with my cock buried in his throat bombarded my mind.
He was giving me that same look as he choked on my prick.
“I promise,” West said, breaking into my fantasy.
“Uh, sorry?” My neck heated at him catching me not paying attention.
“I just said I’ll pay you back for all of this, I promise.”
His embarrassed expression squeezed my chest. “No more promises of payments. I know you’re good for the money. I trust you, Weston. It’s all going to be fine.”
We settled in for our flight, and when we were taxiing to the runway for takeoff, I noticed Weston’s shoulders were around his ears because he was so tense.
I reached over and took his hand that was figuratively glued to the armrest of his seat, cradling it in mine.
“Your work situation? How’s that going?”
He grinned. “I got a weekend job delivering for Seiler’s Bakery and Deli on 2nd Avenue. I’ll work on Saturdays from six in the morning until six at night, and Sundays from six until three.”
I did the math and figured out he would be working sixty-one hours a week, plus the twenty hours he worked for me. That was entirely too many hours for anyone. I realized he was young and energetic but working seven days a week at ostensibly three jobs was a hell of a load for anyone.
“What about fun? When do you have time for anything fun?”
Weston shrugged. “I’ve got responsibilities, remember?”
“You’re going to burn yourself out, West. You should go out with friends and have a good time while you’re young.
” Hell, some days, I wished I had because now, At the ripe old age of forty-five, I didn’t have any male friends to hang out with.
Alexis and her girlfriend did a lot of volunteer work together and had a lot of friends, but they were in their mid-thirties.
It wasn’t easy to make friends at my age.
As the plane lifted off the ground, West’s grip tightened, and I put my other hand over both of ours. “We’re fine. Once we level off, they’ll bring drinks and warm mixed nuts before they start dinner service.”
Weston clutched my hand and closed his eyes as the sounds of the engines revved and we headed off into the wild blue yonder. He didn’t say anything, just held my hand, though once we left the ground his hand relaxed, but I didn’t let his release mine. Speaking of warm nuts...
I hoped to fuck I wasn’t coming off as creepy. He seemed so vulnerable before he dozed off, and it bothered me. Was he naturally vulnerable, or had Claude destroyed his confidence even before his death?
I didn’t want to judge Claude or tarnish the image I had of him from when I was young and he helped me out.
I knew then—and still knew—that Claude wasn’t interested in me the way I was interested in Weston.
Did that make me the worst person ever for trying to try to support Weston as he worked so hard to find his place in the world?
A touch on my arm had me turning my head to the right to see the flight attendant with a silver tray of steaming moist clothes. “Hot towel?”
I grinned and gently pulled my hand from West’s. She gave me a towel and motioned toward his sleeping form.
“I’ll give it to him. He needs to wake up anyway.” The flight attendant smiled and dropped another hot towel in my left hand before stepping to the row behind us.
“Hey, West. We’ll be eating soon.” I handed him the warm towel when he opened his eyes. “You dozed off for a few minutes.”
West smiled. “I guess I relaxed enough to doze. I didn’t sleep well last night. My nerves were giving me fits. I guess nerves are good, but I tried really hard to get a good night’s sleep. Hopefully, I’ll have an easier time tonight.” His left eyebrow arched quite attractively.
Was he hinting at what I thought he was hinting at? Oh, god! Was this a sign? Was this divine intervention telling me he wanted what I wanted?
I decided to try to play it cool. “Well, then don’t have too much coffee, okay? Caffeine stays in the system longer than people think.” There. That was safe.
Weston laughed. “Thanks, Daddy.”
Fuck! Why did that have my cock growing in my shorts?
“Oh, I’m definitely not Claude.”
I grinned. “No. You’re definitely not.”
After checking Steph and Alexis into the hotel, West and I collected the bikes I’d shipped there, put them inside the RV, and we were on our way. The ladies invited us to get dinner at a nearby restaurant, but Weston wasn’t hungry, so we declined and left them to their date night.
I drove through the arched entrance of Bubu Bear’s Jellystone Campground just outside St. Charles, Missouri. St. Charles was what many people called quaint. I’d never been fond of quaint.
I’d seen my fair share of small towns when I was riding competitively.
Stayed in a lot of youth hostels around the world, and it was fun in the beginning, but not having a familiar bed every night wore thin.
When I stopped competing on the cycling circuit at thirty, I was satisfied that I’d lived my dream and was ready for the next one.
My level of competing wasn’t as high as some of the professional cyclists I competed against. Nevertheless, I’d been proud of myself when I ended my competition days and began supporting other riders.
Competitive cycling was a younger man’s game, and once I got into building bikes instead of riding them, I believed I’d found my purpose. It surprised the fuck out of me, but I wasn’t unhappy with the direction my future was headed.
“This is cool.” West glanced around the whimsical campground, pointing to the multicolor flags lazily swaying in the breeze as we rounded the half-circle drive where the check-in cabin was located.
“It’s different, all right.” I pulled over to a small parking area and turned off the motor of the rented RV, glancing at West from my peripheral. He was wearing a smile, which was good.
“I’m going to check us in, and I’ll be right back. Look up the menu,” I pointed to the little pink café near the entrance of the park, “for the Pic-a-nic Basket Café.”
I laughed at the imagery that took me back to a conversation I once had with Claude when we were riding our bikes from Mahanttan to Long Island.
“My favorite cartoon to watch with West is ‘Yogi the Bear’. Yogi sounds just like Fred Flintstone. Those were my favorite cartoons when I was a kid—yes, we had colored television back then—and when they’re on television these days, I coerce Weston to watch with me so I don’t look like an old fool.
” His boisterous laugh always made me smile.
West’s big golden-brown eyes stared at me for clarity. “Uh, what now?”
“Yogi and Bubu? The Yogi Bear cartoons? I know you’ve seen them.”
West laughed. “Wait, is it one of the really old cartoons that sometimes play on the Cartoon Network? The bears at the campground that Dad used to watch with me when I was a kid?”
“Yeah. Claude was an asshole sometimes, but he loved you very much. Always remember that, Weston.”
I closed the door of the RV and went into the campground office to check in.
When I returned to the vehicle, I found West speaking with a couple who came out of the little café.
When he saw me, he motioned me over, where I placed my hand on his neck just under his soft brown hair. No, I wasn’t possessive much.
“Bridges, this is Kayley and her husband Raj. They’re here to ride the trail...well, Raj is. Kayley is his support person, though she’s not riding with him like you are with me. Anyway, they said the café is great.”
I extended my hand to shake Raj’s hand, then Kayley’s. They were a cute young couple with a great future ahead of them, if the loving look they shared was any indication.
When I glanced at Weston Aames, my heart pinged. Would West and I ever look at each other the way Raj and Kayley looked at each other? How much did I want that?
“Good food?” I asked Raj.
“I had the lemon chicken and Kay had the cobb salad. Large portions, so we shared, but yeah, I’d give it a great review. What time are you guys getting on the trail tomorrow?”
Raj and Kayley seemed like a nice couple. It was easy to see that Raj was hyped about his ride the next day, and based on Weston’s expression, he was excited, too. I remember being excited about the possibility of a long ride back in the day.
“Hoping to get boing by six. Our support and gear drivers are staying in a motel in town, but they’ll be here by five, I hope.” I turned to West. “Let’s eat and then we can set up camp.”
West nodded and grinned at Raj and Kayley. “Nice to meet you. Maybe we’ll see you along the trail?”
The couple waved goodbye as they headed toward the cabins lining the large water park area of Bubu Bear’s Jellystone Campground.
I hadn’t thought about checking whether there were cabins at our next camping stop.
I made a mental note to look into it before bed because Alexis and Step could stay there with us and it would be less disruptive for our early morning starts.
Unfortunately, after eating and setting up camp, West went inside to shower, and my brain went in a direction that kept me from having coherent thoughts. The guy was hot and thinking of him soaping up his body and cleaning every crevasse and appendage had my dick uncontrollably filling.
When he opened the door and came out in a fog of spice-scented steam, I had to get out of there or I was going to jump the poor guy.
After staring for an unusually long moment, I grabbed my towel, toiletry bag, and clean shorts before sliding on my flip flops and fleeing the scene before I did something stupid.
Where the fuck had my control gone?