Chapter Four
Emery
My body was sore from the constant repetitive motion of bending, picking up, and hauling heavy sections of downed tree the day prior. We’d agreed to work on the interior, maybe even try to salvage the running water, but everything hurt and I didn’t want to do it anymore.
"Come on, Mase. Do I have to?" I was definitely whining.
Mason just snorted. "What are you, a toddler?"
"I’m a teacher on summer vacation."
He shook his head. "Not good enough. Gotta keep going or we really won’t get finished until fall."
With a deep sigh, I bent over and stuffed leaf debris into the industrial trash bag I was holding. Mason was sweeping broken glass into a bucket across the room. "This sucks," I muttered.
"Imagine how I feel," he countered. "I do this shit all the time. All day, every day."
"Strong."
He glanced at me, brow furrowed. "Huh?"
"I bet you feel strong. My arms feel like pool noodles. You’ve built up stamina."
He winked. "That’s what she said."
I casually flipped him off and went back to picking up leaves and twigs.
Once the interior was much cleaner than it had been when we started, Mason showed me how to check that the water heater was still intact and operating. When we confirmed that it was, he took off his hat and rubbed his forehead with the back of his wrist.
“At least that’s still intact.”
“Then why don’t we have running water?”
Mason nodded toward the second bathroom. “Your dad probably shut the water off from the main valve. It was smart of him, but we have to fix any leaks before we can get the water back online. Now the fun begins."
“Turning the water back on and taking hot showers?”
He shook his head. "We get to check under the house for leaks."
My stomach dropped. I didn’t think I could handle crawling around in the tight space under the cabin after all that lifting. "You’ve got to be kidding me."
“Look, you think I want to get under there with all the creepy crawlies? Grab a flashlight and come on. I’ll get under the house, all you have to do is light the way.”
I followed him around to the back of the cabin, knowing his anxiety would already be making his skin crawl at the thought of bugs, spiders, snakes, or whatever other horrors awaited us under there.
"Shine your flashlight in. I’ll crawl around and see what I can find."
I swallowed hard. "Be careful." When he looked at me with wide eyes, I smirked. "Scared?"
"Hell yeah, I’m scared. Who knows what kind of murder bugs are under there."
"This isn’t Australia. It’s western Virginia."
"Still." He sighed. "Look, just keep the flashlight steady."
With that, he ducked down to crawl under the cabin.
As he did, I couldn’t help but notice his ass, firm and round and directly in my line of sight.
Normally I would’ve just snorted and ignored it, but instead, I caught myself wondering what it would feel like under my touch, and whether he was an ass guy.
When I realized what I was doing, I shook my head to redirect my thoughts.
It's been too long since I’ve gone out, clearly. Straight guys don’t check out their straight best friends. As I chastised myself, the flashlight drooped.
"What are you doing? Light," Mason said with frustration.
"Sorry. Thought you might prefer the dark, getting cozy with your new spider friends."
"If you want running water to return to this cabin, you’ll stop daydreaming and help."
"Fine, fine." I followed Mason with the flashlight, shining it in his path while he used his to illuminate nooks and crannies I couldn’t see.
After a moment, he spoke. "There it is."
"A snake the size of a tree branch?"
"That’s my dick you’re talking about." He snickered and I rolled my eyes. A moment later, he clarified. "No, I spotted a leak. It’s not big. In fact, it was probably here before the storm, but either way it’s going to take time to fix. Until then, no running water."
"Shit," I muttered. I really missed having indoor plumbing.
When Mason crawled out from under the cabin a few minutes later, he was covered in mud, dust, and cobwebs.
"Let’s hit the hardware store. I can get some replacement piping and some other tools.
" He reached out his hand and I grabbed it to haul him to his feet. Sparks hit me like there was a live wire between us, and my breathing tightened. As his hand gripped mine, heat crawled up my arm. I had the strangest urge to pull him close. Instead, I released him a bit too soon and he nearly went tumbling onto his ass, grunting as he hit the ground. Once he’d righted himself, Mason brushed off and nodded toward the truck.
"Fuck you, too, dude. Thanks for dropping me on my ass. "
“Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.
A while later, we were at the tiny hardware store on the outskirts of town. We wandered up and down the aisles, picking out supplies we needed. Mostly Mason did it without my help, of course, but I tried to be there for moral support at least. And providing what minimal assistance I could offer.
On one aisle, Mason pointed to a special waterproofing sealant. "We’ll need at least two tubes."
I reached for it at the same time Mason did, our fingers brushing as we both grabbed the tube of sealant at the same time. I pulled away and chuckled nervously and Mason frowned and narrowed his eyes at me.
"Yeah," he said after a minute. "This is the stuff."
Weirdly, I found myself hyperaware of his body next to mine. I kept wanting to pull him closer, or to drift into his space. The pull was practically magnetic, but I resisted and vowed to keep my distance better. I was probably just being weird and imagining the growing tension between us.
As Mason and I wandered the aisles, looking for the supplies we’d need, an older woman, maybe seventy, approached us.
"Excuse me, young men," she said, tapping Mason on the shoulder. "I hate to bother you but could you possibly help me?"
Mason turned to her, giving a kind smile. "Of course. I’m Mason. What can I do for you?"
"So polite! I’m Margaret. I just can't tell what I'll need. All of these products are so complicated these days."
"What are you hoping to do?"
"I have some water damage from the storm. I had a contractor come take a look but he was out of my budget. I need to… well, it’s a lot.
" She explained to Mason the work she was attempting, which included drywall repair and painting, plus roof repair.
It was clearly going to be too much for her to handle alone.
Mason nodded in sympathy. "That is a lot. Do you live nearby? We could come take a look. Maybe we can help."
She waved a hand and shook her head. "I can't afford the help. I don’t even have insurance on that old place. But thank you. I'll manage. I'm not just a frail old lady, you know."
He chuckled. "Of course not. But I'm a professional. We’re happy to help. No charge. Right, Em?"
I nodded quickly. "Of course."
"I'm sure you two have better things to do than help me."
Mason looked at me and laughed. "Actually, we’ll be finished with our current project in three weeks or so, and this one’s on summer vacation. He’s a teacher. We've got plenty of time to help."
She gave Mason a genuine smile. "If you're sure."
"It's absolutely our pleasure. What's your address? We'll come out tomorrow and take a look."
She gave Mason her info and it turned out, she was a neighbor, only a little way down the road from my family’s cabin. Margaret took a moment to squeeze his hand. "You're too sweet. Thank you so much."
Once we’d checked out and headed back to the cabin, things seemed more normal.
I was less focused on the intense feelings I’d been getting from touching Mason, at least. I helped Mason as he tarped the roof to keep debris out of the cabin, which took about an hour.
Our next step was to board up the broken windows, eating up the rest of the good daylight, and then finally he announced it was time to patch the leaking pipe.
Once Mason shimmied under the cabin again, this time in the dimming light, we set up a battery-powered lantern near where he would be working.
It didn’t take him long to patch the pipe to his satisfaction, and when he was done, Mason crawled out from under the house again.
As he stood, he groaned and stretched his back.
"You good?"
“See? I’m not invincible. I get worn out, too. Anyway, I think a quick swim and bedtime are in order."
"As good a plan as any." I followed him down to the water, moonlight bouncing off the water and giving everything a soft, silver glow, and we stripped down. I tried hard to keep my eyes to myself and not look at his body, but I couldn’t stop my gaze from darting to him the second before he jumped in. His body was strong and muscular, his ass rounded and firm, thick thighs, a layer of dark hair on his legs. He looked nothing like the women I’d dated before.
He was masculine, a stereotypical construction worker.
I frowned and shook my head, realizing I was giving Mason’s body way too much thought.
In a blink, I dove in behind him. A few seconds after I submerged myself, I popped up not far from the dock, to find Mason treading water several yards away. I grinned and shook my head fondly.
"Hey," he said. "Tell me something."
"Tell you what?"
He swam a little closer before splashing me with one hand. "I don’t know. Tell me something interesting about yourself."
"Mase, we’ve known each other for thirty-something years and we’ve been best friends for twenty of those years. You know everything about me."
"No, I don’t. You don’t know everything about me, so it’s not possible that I know everything about you."
"I know your middle name, your favorite food, and your favorite movie. I know you’ve never broken a bone. I know you prefer cats to dogs. What else do you want from me?"
"What are my middle name, favorite food, and favorite movie, then?" His tone was clearly a challenge.
I resisted the urge to give him a smart-ass answer. "Victor, instant noodles, Halloween. Your turn."
He dipped below the water for a second before popping up even closer. "Fine. James, fries, and Love Actually, even though you recognize that it’s problematic these days."
I snorted and shook my head, impressed that he got them right. "See? We know everything about each other."
Mason splashed me again. "Tell me about your first kiss."
I frowned. "Why?”
"I don’t know. Just making conversation."
"Fine," I sighed, swimming a few feet past him, until I was deep enough that my feet didn’t touch and I was treading water. I needed something to expend my energy on while I had this conversation. "Do you remember Bridget? In our third grade class?"
"God," he muttered. "That doesn’t count. Third grade does not count."
"You said kiss," I protested.
He pointed at me. "First tongue kiss. Go."
"Sophia. Sixth grade. I took her to see a zombie movie that was also a love story.
We sat in the very back row. After the lights came up, we kept sitting there.
After the whole crowd was gone, we were still sitting there.
Finally, Sophia turned to me and asked if I was going to kiss her or not.
I did kiss her, and literally just as it was starting, the door opened and an usher came in to clean the theater. And that was my first tongue kiss."
Mason cackled. He legitimately threw back his head and cackled to the stars. When he calmed down, he looked at me. "That is the greatest first kiss story I’ve ever heard."
"Fine, Romeo. Your turn."
"Mine was when we were in sixth grade, too. But with Olivia Martin, two years ahead of us."
I raised my eyebrows. "Really?"
He stood, water streaming down his chest. "Really."
Shaking my head, I laughed again. "I still don’t know how you do it."
"Natural talent."
I couldn’t stop the snort that escaped me.
That wasn’t the end of it, though. “Now the first guy I kissed… that’s a whole different story."
I froze in surprise. "You’ve… kissed a guy?"
He shrugged again casually, as if he hadn’t just told me something that had blown my mind. "It’s not a big deal. I’m straight, not homophobic."
I furrowed my brow deeply, staring at him without blinking. "You seriously don’t think it’s a big deal?"
"Nah. Why would I? It was just a kiss."
"I can’t believe you’ve never told me. What’s the story?"
Even in the moonlight, Mason’s cocky grin was visible on his face. "Trevor McCauley. Freshman year of college."
"Wasn’t he the gay kid on the football team?"
Mason shrugged and waved it off as an inconsequential part of the equation.
"We were at a party playing spin the bottle. Ask me why college kids were playing spin the bottle, because I thought we left that shit behind in middle school. Anyway, Trevor was clearly panicking. Eyes wide. Sweating. It was clear he was nervous about spinning the bottle on his turn. I don’t know why he didn’t just get up and leave, to be honest. Either way, when the bottle landed between me and Laura Reynolds, I did what I had to do.
Leaned in and kissed him. I didn’t mind taking one for the team. ”
"How did he react?"
"He didn’t seem to mind it. Hell, I didn’t mind it, if I’m being honest. It wasn’t like he was a bad kisser."
"You weren’t bothered that he was a guy?"
"A kiss is a kiss. It’s not like I had to blow him or whatever."
"Yeah, that would have been something." I laughed, a sound that came out a little wild and untethered. "How did I not know this?"
Mason looked up at the night sky. "I don’t know. You weren’t at that party."
"And you never thought to tell me?"
"It didn’t seem important at the time. I was just trying to help Trevor. It wasn’t serious. I figured you would have heard. It was all anyone could talk about for a week, until the next party, when three guys from the football team went streaking across sorority row.”
I nodded, mind churning. We’d been best friends since ninth grade.
Even though we hadn’t been joined at the hip in college, I was surprised he’d never told me something that felt so major.
He’d kissed a guy before. The knowledge made my stomach squirm in ways I didn’t understand.
"I think I’ll go ahead and turn in," I said after a moment.
When Mason raised his eyebrows, I shrugged sheepishly. "Wiped, you know?"
He nodded, grinning. "Worked you too hard today, I guess."
"Guess so. Good night."
I headed back to the cabin and into the bedroom, stripping down before pulling on clean boxers and a T-shirt and slipping under the covers.
As I lay there, begging for sleep to take me, my mind replayed the day and the kiss conversation and how confused I was about the weird feelings bubbling up inside of me.