THREE
Thirty minutes into one of the trails along the water, Greyson heard two male voices.
It was the first sign of people he’d come across since parking his car.
He felt a twinge of relief, knowing there were other people out.
He had started to worry he might get lost in the labyrinth of trails.
He felt a little stupid for not bringing his phone with him, but it had felt symbolic to leave his work behind.
If his cell phone had been stuffed in his pocket, he might be tempted to check his emails.
He was sure his colleagues were emailing back and forth, copying him on everything.
As he walked through a cluster of trees, a large wooden dock came into view.
The dock was old and weather-beaten. The boards were gray and warped around the ends.
But Greyson didn’t notice the dock. What drew Greyson’s attention were the two men sprawled out on the wooden planks, damp and lying in the sun, wearing nothing but black cotton briefs.
Greyson had only dated women, only been with women, but there was a part of him that also found men attractive. And these men were hot. And nearly naked. And they were looking at him.
“Hey there!” One of the men called. He waved a hand from his position on his back. Greyson hesitantly lifted a hand and waved back. The man with the tattoos pushed himself up into a seated position. He had a dusting of hair that ran from his chest down to the band of his damp briefs.
Greyson considered walking down the path and leaving the men behind him. But he was having a rotten day so far, and he hadn’t talked to people outside of his work in a few days. Maybe a short, friendly conversation while he enjoyed the view would help shake him out of the mood he was in.
Greyson stopped at the end of the dock. The man with the tattoos looked him up and down, then smiled. Greyson’s stomach flipped a little.
“Out for a walk?” The man with the tattoos asked. Greyson nodded.
“Just… had to take a break from work. I thought the sun might help,” Greyson said.
“You picked a good day, the sun feels great today. Water’s cold, but it’s nice if you want to cool off,” the man with the tattoos said.
“Why don’t you come sit in the sun for a bit? Work on your tan?” The second man suggested. Greyson looked at the dock, then out at the water. He shrugged. They were friendly, and it was a nice day. Why not?
“I can sit for a few minutes,” Greyson said. He stepped onto the dock and found a spot a respectful distance from the two men and sat down on the wooden planks, legs folded under him.
“If you don’t take your shirt off, you’ll get a farmer’s tan,” one of the men said. He was right, obviously. Greyson had t-shirt tan lines every summer because he was always nervous about taking his shirt off. He always felt too skinny or too pale.
Greyson hesitated. If he didn’t take off his shirt, it would be obvious he was self-conscious. He didn’t want to be the scared, skinny guy who wouldn’t take his shirt off around a couple of nearly naked men. He tried to look confident and peeled his shirt off.
“What’s your name, stranger?” The second man asked. Greyson peeled off his sneakers and socks and lay down on the wooden planks to let the sun warm his chest.
“Greyson,” Greyson said.
“Greyson, I’m Ellis, and this is Max.” Max, the man with the tattoos, waved.
Then he pivoted so he was closer to Greyson and lay next to him.
Max wasn’t uncomfortably close to Greyson; he kept a few feet of dock space between them, but he was so close that Greyson could see the details of the giant scorpion on his arm.
They lay on the dock in silence, soaking up the heat. Greyson draped his forearm over his eyes to shield them from the sun. He was thankful he had decided to leave his apartment today. He should get out and lie in the sun more often.
Greyson didn’t know how much time had passed, but he felt sweat prickling on his face and chest. He rolled over onto his front.
“Time to get in,” Max said. Max pushed himself up to standing. Ellis followed suit.