12. Connor
Connor
Morning light filters through the blinds in soft gold stripes across Milo’s bed.
I wake up slowly, something I almost never do.
Usually I am up before dawn, boots on, ready to run or work.
But this morning my body feels heavy in the best way…
warm and anchored by the small, soft young man curled against my chest.
Milo’s breathing is slow and even, his cheek pressed to my sternum, one leg thrown over mine like he is afraid I might disappear in the night. His hair smells like vanilla and sex, and the sheet has slipped down just enough to show the smooth curve of his bare shoulder.
A warm glow settles deep in my chest, something I haven’t felt since the days with Nav all those years ago. That quiet, bone-deep contentment. The feeling that the world is okay, at least for this moment. I tighten my arm around him and press my lips to the top of his head.
I know I should tell Milo about Nav soon.
He deserves to know why I built such high walls. Why part of me still waits for the other shoe to drop.
But not this morning.
Not while he is sleeping so peacefully in my arms, trusting me completely. There will be time for heavy conversations later. And I’ll make sure I do them the right way too. No shocks. No big reveals out of nowhere. I’ll do it just right for my darling Milo.
And speaking of my perfect Little…
Milo stirs, making a soft, sleepy sound that goes straight to my heart. His eyes flutter open, those striking blue eyes finding mine immediately. A slow, shy smile spreads across his face.
“Morning, Daddy,” Milo whispers, voice still husky from sleep.
“Morning, little bunny.” I brush my thumb across his cheek. “Sleep well?”
“ Mmm . Best sleep ever.” He snuggles closer, rubbing his nose against my chest like a contented kitten. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”
I chuckle low and hold him tighter, letting my hand stroke slowly up and down his bare back. We stay like that for a long while, just breathing together, legs tangled, the outside world far away. It feels dangerously right.
Eventually I sigh.
“I need to get back to the cabin, baby boy,” I say. “The dogs have enough food and water to feed an army, but I don’t like leaving them alone too long.”
Milo nods against me, even though I can feel his reluctance. “I understand. They’re your boys.”
I tilt his chin up and kiss him slow, deep, and full of everything I am not ready to say out loud yet. When we finally break apart, his lips are swollen and his eyes are shining.
“See you soon?” he asks softly.
“You can count on it,” I reply and then kiss his forehead one last time, then force myself out of the warm bed.
I dress quickly, watching him wrap the sheet around himself and sit up, hair messy and beautiful. He walks me to the door in nothing but that sheet, and we share one more kiss on the threshold before I make myself leave.
Outside on the street, the morning air is crisp. I am halfway to my truck when a familiar voice calls out.
“King!”
I turn. Kaleb is standing by his own truck. He jogs over, grinning.
“You up for that race this afternoon?” he asks. “The Razor? Thought we could settle who really knows these mountains.”
I feel a rare grin tug at my mouth. After everything yesterday, the beers, throwing out the trash, the easy camaraderie, I don’t even hesitate.
“Damn right I am,” I say. “See you at the bottom at two.”
“Try not to cry when I smoke you,” Kaleb shoots back with a laugh.
I flip him off good-naturedly and climb into my truck. And as I drive out of town, I realize I am actually looking forward to it.
But if Kaleb thinks I’m going to take it easy on him now I’m being all sociable, he’s got another thing coming!
* * *
That afternoon the sun beats down hot on the trailhead at the bottom of The Razor: a steep, winding, rocky bastard of a climb that promises a killer view from the summit.
Kaleb is already there with his dogs, Racer and Turbo, both bouncing around excitedly.
Shadow and Spirit trot beside me, tails up, ready for adventure.
We are both dressed for business: trail running shoes, lightweight shorts, hydration packs on our backs. No shirts. Just two big, stubborn mountain men about to try and outrun each other up a near-vertical hell trail.
“You ready to eat my dust, old man?” Kaleb grins, stretching his quads.
“Old man?” I snort. “I’ll have you crying for your mama before we hit the halfway marker.”
We line up. Kaleb’s dogs and mine know to stick with us, but not too close when we run—they know the drill. Racer even gives a happy bark like he is wishing us luck.
“On three,” Kaleb says.
We take off.
The first mile is brutal. The Razor doesn’t mess around. Steep switchbacks, loose rock, roots trying to trip you at every step.
My lungs burn. My quads scream.
But the fire in my blood feels good. Alive .
Kaleb pulls ahead early, his long stride eating up the ground. For a while it looks like he might actually smoke me. I stay steady, conserving energy, letting him burn bright.
Then, around the three-quarter mark where the trail gets nasty and rocky, I dig deep.
My powerful legs take over. Years of running these mountains, of pushing myself when no one is watching, pay off. I pass him on a brutal uphill section, breathing like a freight train but refusing to slow.
“Come on, tree boy!” I shout back. “That all you got?”
Kaleb laughs through his own heavy breathing and gives chase.
We hit the summit almost neck-and-neck. I cross the imaginary finish line maybe two strides ahead, then collapse onto a flat rock, chest heaving, sweat pouring off me.
“Fuck… you,” Kaleb pants, dropping down beside me with a laugh. “That was… close.”
“ Close ?” I grin, still catching my breath. “I smoked you fair and square.”
“Rematch,” Kaleb demands, pointing at me. “Next month. And next time I’m really trying.”
I laugh. “You’re on. But next time I won’t hold back either.”
We sit there on the summit, legs dangling over the edge, the whole valley spread out below us like a painting. After a minute we open our packs to grab water… and both pull out a six-pack of cold beer and a couple of cigars at the exact same time.
We stare at each other.
Then burst out laughing.
“Great minds think alike,” Kaleb says, shaking his head. “Looks like our taste in boys ain’t the only thing we have in common.”
“Sure does look that way,” I reply, a big smile on my face.
We crack the beers open. They fizz everywhere from being jostled in the packs, foam spraying over our hands and the rocks. We don’t care. We light the cigars with a shared lighter, lean back, and just enjoy the view, the burn in our legs, and the unexpected friendship forming between us.
I take a long pull of beer and look out across the mountains I’ve claimed as my own for so long.
What a fucking fantastic day.
* * *
The cabin is dark and quiet when I finally get home.
“Alright, alright,” I laugh, roughing up the dogs’ ears. “You’re hungry, boys. I get it.”
I kick off my trail shoes at the door, wincing as my calves scream in protest. The Razor was no joke: steep, brutal, and exactly what I needed. My legs feel like they’ve been put through a meat grinder, but it is a good burn. The kind that reminds me I am still strong. Still capable.
After getting Shadow and Spirit’s supply of raw meat and a side of veg, I grab a cold beer from the fridge, pop the cap, and drop into my big leather chair with a long groan. Feet up on the ottoman, I let my head fall back and just breathe for a minute.
A slow chuckle rumbles out of me as I replay the race in my head.
I beat Kaleb. Just barely, but I beat him.
The look on his face when I edged him out at the summit—part shock, part respect—was priceless. What really sticks with me though isn’t the win. It is the way we sat up there afterward, cracking open those over-shaken beers, lighting cigars, and bullshitting like old friends.
No tension.
No wariness.
Just two big, stubborn bastards who finally saw each other clearly.
It feels… good. Really good.
For the first time in years, I have someone I can actually call a friend. Someone who understands the mountain life, the weight of being a Daddy, the need to protect what is yours. Kaleb and I aren’t so different after all.
My phone buzzes on the arm of the chair. I pick it up and smile when I see Milo’s name…
MILO: Hey Daddy… I have a little treat for you tonight
MILO: But you have to wait one minute, okay? Promise not to peek early.
I arch an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. What is this boy up to now?
I take a sip of beer and wait, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, when another message pops up.
MILO: Video incoming…
The video call request appears on my screen. I answer immediately and as soon as I do, my jaw almost hits the floor...