10. Connor
Connor
The truck’s headlights cut across the quiet street as I pull up outside the laundromat.
Milo’s apartment sits above it, the little balcony glowing softly with fairy lights.
He’s half-asleep in the passenger seat, cheeks flushed, hair messy from the long day and everything we did on it.
My flannel shirt still hangs off his shoulders, way too big on his small frame.
I can’t even kid myself otherwise… he looks fucking adorable .
After a quick but longing look at my boy, I cut the engine. “We’re here, little bunny.”
Milo stirs, blinking up at me with those big blue eyes that always manage to hit me somewhere soft. “Already?” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disappointed. “I was… mmmm … comfy.”
I reach over and brush a strand of hair behind his ear. “You’ve had enough excitement for one day. Daddy’s orders, remember?”
He gives me a sleepy little smile and leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek.
“Thank you for today,” Milo says. “For all of it.”
Before I can say anything else, he hops out of the truck, my flannel swishing around his thighs. I watch him until he disappears up the stairs, waving once from the top before the door clicks shut behind him.
For a long moment I just sit there, hands still on the wheel, staring at the empty balcony. The scent of him still lingers in the cab. My chest feels strange. Tight. Not in a bad way. Just… different .
I finally climb out and start walking back toward the truck.
The street is quiet, only the distant hum of the laundromat machines and the occasional car passing by. My boots echo on the sidewalk as I glance around me and take in the sights.
“King.”
I stop mid-step and turn.
Kaleb is leaning against the side of his own truck a little further down, arms crossed, watching me. He looks relaxed, but there’s something deliberate in the way he’s standing there, like he’s been waiting.
I lift my chin. “Kaleb.”
He pushes off the truck and walks over, hands loose at his sides. “Saw you dropping Milo off. Figured now was as good a time as any.”
I raise an eyebrow, waiting.
Kaleb scratches the back of his neck, almost sheepish.
“Look, I’ve been a bit of a dick to you in the past,” Kaleb says, his vice raw and honest. “Nothing personal. Just… I heard things and didn’t have any evidence otherwise, you know?
It’s not like you made an effort to be known either.
But after what Taron told me about you and Milo today, and seeing you two together…
” He shrugs. “You want to grab a beer at the Lantern? My treat.”
I stare at him for a long second.
This is the same man who’s given me wary nods in the woods for years. The same man who warned Milo to stay away from me. Now he’s offering me a beer?
Skepticism sits heavy in my gut. But something in his tone feels genuine. And after the day I’ve had, I’m not in the mood to go straight back to an empty cabin.
“Alright,” I say. “One beer.”
We fall into step together, walking the short distance to the Woody Hollow in silence. The night air is cool and smells like pine and woodsmoke. Neither of us speaks until we push through the heavy wooden door.
The tavern is loud and alive, exactly how I remember it. Country music playing, laughter rolling from every corner, the clack of pool balls, and the warm glow of hanging lanterns. It’s packed tonight. We find two stools at the far end of the bar.
The bartender slides two cold pints our way without asking. Kaleb raises his glass.
“To not being total assholes to each other,” he says with a half-grin.
I clink my glass against his. “I’ll drink to that.”
We drink in companionable silence for the first minute. Then Kaleb sets his glass down and looks at me sideways.
“So… you and Milo, huh?”
I grunt. “Something like that.”
He chuckles. “He’s a handful. Taron’s been talking about him non-stop since they became buddies. Says Milo’s got that same fire he does.”
“He’s stubborn as hell,” I admit, a reluctant smile tugging at my mouth. “Doesn’t know when to quit.”
“Sounds familiar,” Kaleb says, nodding toward the photo of Taron he keeps in his wallet. “But worth it. Every single day.”
We start talking properly after the second round.
Real talk. About the forest, about which trails are best this time of year, about the old logging roads that are overgrown now.
We argue, good-naturedly, over who knows the mountain better.
Kaleb claims he can summit Thunderclap faster than anyone.
I tell him he’s full of shit and that I’ve run the ridgeline twice before breakfast.
“Bullshit,” Kaleb laughs. “Race me one day. Loser buys the winner a case of whatever beer he wants.”
I grin. “You’re on.”
We clink glasses again, the tension that used to sit between us completely gone.
Then Kaleb’s eyes flick toward the back corner of the tavern. His expression hardens instantly.
Two out-of-town assholes, big, loud, drunk on cheap beer and their own egos, are harassing an elderly couple trying to enjoy their booth. The old man is trying to help his wife stand, but one of the drunks shoves the table, spilling their drinks.
“Move it, grandpa. We want this spot,” the bigger one slurs.
Kaleb’s jaw tightens. “Time to put out the trash. You in?”
I don’t even hesitate. “You don’t need to ask twice.”
We stand up together, two big mountain Daddies moving like we’ve done this before. The crowd parts as we cross the floor. The two drunks don’t notice us until we’re right on them.
“Problem here?” Kaleb asks, voice low and dangerous.
The bigger one turns, chest puffing out. “Mind your own fucking business, asshole.”
I grab him by the collar before he can finish, lifting him half off the ground. “You’re done. Out .”
Kaleb handles the second one just as efficiently. We march them toward the door, their feet barely touching the floor. Outside in the cool night air, I slam the first guy against the wall, not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to make my point.
“You don’t treat people like that in this town,” I growl. “Especially not elders. Now walk away before I change my mind about being gentle.”
Kaleb tosses his guy to the ground. “And don’t come back.”
The two assholes scramble up, muttering curses but clearly knowing they’re beaten. They stumble off into the night with their tails between their legs.
Kaleb dusts his hands off and looks at me. A slow grin spreads across his face.
“You’re alright, King.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “You too, Kaleb.”
We stand there for a second, the bond between us clicking into place like it was always meant to.
Two protective Daddies.
Two mountain men who finally see each other clearly.
We head back inside to finish our beers, the tavern crowd giving us respectful nods as we pass. For the first time in years, I don’t feel like the outsider everyone whispers about.
I feel like I might actually belong here.
And maybe, just maybe, I can let myself have more than just the woods and my dogs.
Especially if a certain blue-eyed bunny keeps hopping into my life…
* * *
The drive back up the mountain is quiet, just the low rumble of the truck and the occasional hoot of an owl cutting through the darkness.
My knuckles are still a little sore from grabbing that drunk asshole by the collar, but it’s a good kind of ache. The kind that reminds me I’m still useful for something other than hiding in the woods.
When I pull up to the cabin, the headlights sweep across the front porch and two familiar shapes come barreling out to greet me. Shadow and Spirit bark happily, tails going a mile a minute, jumping up like I’ve been gone for a month instead of a few hours.
“Easy, boys,” I chuckle, crouching down to roughhouse with them for a minute. “Miss me that much?”
Spirit licks my face while Shadow tries to shove his big head under my arm. For two dogs who used to be trained for serious work, they sure turned into softies. Can’t say I blame them. I feel pretty soft myself tonight.
I head inside, flick on the low lights, and go straight to the fridge.
One cold beer for me, and I pull out two big marrow bones I’ve been saving. The dogs’ ears perk up instantly, noses twitching.
“Yeah, yeah. You earned these,” I chuckle.
I toss the bones onto the thick rug in front of the stone fireplace.
While they settle down to gnaw happily, I stack some fresh logs, strike a match, and get a good blaze going.
The fire crackles to life, throwing warm orange light across the cabin walls.
I grab my beer, drop into my favorite oversized leather chair, and kick my boots up on the ottoman.
Some old-school blues plays low from the speakers—nothing too loud, just enough to fill the comfortable silence. Shadow and Spirit are already deep into their bones, making satisfied little grunts every few seconds. I take a long pull from the bottle and let the day wash over me.
What a fucking strange but good night.
Kaleb. Of all people. The man I’ve been side-eyeing for years in the woods suddenly buying me beers, challenging me to a ridiculous race up Thunderclap, and throwing out trash side-by-side like we’ve been brothers-in-arms forever.
I chuckle into my beer, shaking my head. We’re more alike than I ever wanted to admit. Big, protective, a little rough around the edges. He reminds me of some of the guys from my old unit. The good ones. The ones who had your back no matter what.
Before Nav’s death turned everything sour.
The thought comes and goes quicker than usual tonight. The sharp stab of pain that normally follows his name is still there, but it’s duller. Muted. Like the wound is finally starting to scar over after all these years.
I stare into the fire, watching the flames dance.
Kaleb’s got himself a good life. A Little who lights up when he walks into a room. A place in town. People who respect him. And for the first time in a long damn time, I find myself wondering if maybe I could have something like that too.
Not exactly like his. I’m never going to be the social butterfly type.
But… more than this. More than just me and the dogs and the endless silence.
Milo’s face flashes through my mind, all flushed and smiling in that ridiculous bunny outfit, screaming Daddy while he came on my tongue, then soft and sleepy in my flannel shirt when I dropped him off. The way he looked at me like I was worth trusting. Worth wanting.
I take another slow sip of beer.
If making more of an effort in town , actually talking to people, showing my face once in a while, makes Milo happy… then yeah. I’ll try .
I’ll try for the damn boy. For whatever this thing between us is turning into.
Because the truth is, I don’t want to push the boy away anymore.
I want to pull him closer.
Shadow lifts his head, bone still clamped in his jaws, and gives me a look like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Spirit thumps his tail once in agreement.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, grinning despite myself. “You two sonsofguns like that damn boy more than me anyway.”
The fire pops loudly. The blues guitar hums low. My dogs keep gnawing contentedly at my feet.
For the first time in longer than I care to remember, the cabin doesn’t feel quite so empty.
I finish my beer, set the bottle down, and lean back in the chair, letting the warmth of the fire sink into my bones.
Tomorrow’s another day.
But for tonight… I’m exactly where I want to be.
And for the first time in years, I’m actually looking forward to my next visit into town too.