Chapter 20

Most times when I went fishing, I didn't catch anything. If pressed, I'd admit I didn't want to. It was only a hassle to drag the fish home and prepare it. Besides, one shouldn't eat lake fish too often because of pollution, and most of them don't even taste that good. Rarely would I luck out with a common perch big enough to bring home.

Eh, who was I kidding? I'd never been comfortable putting a knife to an animal's belly. That was the grim truth.

What I liked was the serenity. After a couple of hours on a lake, my head sat lighter on my shoulders, and all my fears and doubts felt somehow smaller, less important.

I was smiling when I tied the dinghy to the rock and strolled back to my car. I'd come home, shower, and go see Eric. I wouldn't try to convince him to let me help with the cottage. I'd just be with him. Kiss him, hold him…

Scrambling up onto the road where I'd parked earlier, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Was it Eric? I set the bucket on the ground and looked at the screen.

Henke calling.

"Hello, Henke. How are you?"

"Bj?rn, I have your young man here. Selma found him in the forest. He's all frozen and might need a lift home."

"I'm okay," Eric piped up in the background.

"He's not," Henke insisted. "He's barely keeping himself upright."

"Where are you?"

"Somewhere on the road to Halltorp," Henke said.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Good."

I sprinted to the truck and threw my gear in the back. The crossing to the Halltorp settlement was only a few kilometers away, but I couldn't speed on these roads with all the potholes and debris from logging lying around.

When I spotted Selma ahead, I slowed down to a crawl. Henke and Eric appeared behind the next turn. I stopped the car and got out.

Huddled in what must have been Henke's jacket, Eric waved at me weakly.

"Hi," he piped up.

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

Under the jacket, he had nothing on but a thin polyester training shirt, running shorts, and muddy shoes. He peered up at me, pale and shivering. His chin wobbled.

I hugged him to me, almost lifting him from the ground before I realized that might not be a good idea if he were injured.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Just stupid."

"He got lost because of your loggers," Henke said. "He's cold and tired. He must have been running around these woods for hours. Get him home and warm him up."

"Hop in all of you," I told him. "I'll give you and Selma a lift."

But Henke shook his head. "Take Eric and go. We're fine walking. Besides, Selma would have a fit if I forced her into a car. She'd think we were going to the vet, poor girl."

Eric gave out a weak chuckle. He took the jacket off and handed it to Henke.

"Thank you."

He was shaking so hard he could barely talk. Henke waved him off. I said goodbye to Henke, making a mental note to visit him soon. Then I hugged Eric around his shoulders. His skin felt ice cold through the thin material of his running shirt.

"Jesus, you must be freezing. C'mon. Inside."

I unlocked the car and ushered him into the front seat. Then I took off my jacket and hoodie and bundled him up in them. After snapping the seat belt in place over his trembling body, I started the motor.

Blasting the heaters on maximum, I took off toward Gryta.

"I got lost, and my phone died," Eric explained through chattering teeth. "I tried following the logging machine tracks, but then I found a road and saw Selma. Henke is great, by the way. I like him."

"How long have you been out here?" I swung onto the main road and sped up. I didn't even ask him where he wanted to go. I was bringing him to my place.

"I don't know. I left my house after two."

"It's past seven."

"Oh."

I shook my head. Five hours? He must be exhausted.

Still shivering, he stumbled as I rushed him into my home. I hugged him to me and supported his weight.

"This is so humiliating," he mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"You scared me, Eric." I pressed a kiss to his hair and pushed him onto my sofa. Then I undid his wet shoes, pulled off his socks, and wrapped a fleece blanket over his shoulders.

"I'll make you something to drink, okay?"

He nodded and curled up into a shuddering little ball.

I brought him warm water with honey and a chocolate bar. He drank the water in one go, then nibbled on the chocolate as I started the fire in the fireplace.

"As soon as you've warmed up, I'll make you dinner."

"You must think I'm an idiot."

"I got lost once on a cross-country ski trip in Canada because I took a wrong turn on a flawlessly marked trail. They had to pick me up with a helicopter. Now scoot."

One corner of his pale lips lifted. "That does make me feel better, thanks."

Sitting by his side on the sofa, I pulled his damp running shirt off and wrapped my arms around him. I rubbed my hands up and down his back. His skin felt like ice under my palms, but he hummed happily and nuzzled into my chest.

"Mmm, you smell good."

"I'm sweaty and gross. Are you passing out on me?"

"Hope not. Can I take a nap?"

"Sure, baby."

"Hold me?"

"Not going anywhere."

He was so sweet when he needed me. He fell asleep after mere minutes, his muscles twitching from time to time. I only got up to add logs to the fire and take out Madde's famous chicken soup from the freezer. Then I cuddled him again. He barely stirred.

After an hour or so, he'd gotten warmer, and even his feet felt a normal temperature against mine. I hesitated to wake him up, but he should eat something.

"Eric," I murmured in his ear and kissed his cheek.

"Hm?"

"You need to eat. Then I'll tuck you into bed and let you sleep, okay?"

"Bj?rn?"

"It's me."

He kissed my throat and threw an arm over me under the blanket.

"I don't want to get up, but I need to pee," he said. "And I should probably shower."

"I'll find you a hoodie, sweats, and socks. You can use the bathroom, eat some soup, and then you can sleep."

"God, why does everything hurt?"

"You spent five hours running through the woods." I pressed my lips against his forehead, sat up, and tucked the blanket around his shoulders.

"What about your contacts? Do you need to take them out?"

"I should or I'll look like a white rabbit. Do you have eye drops and some kind of a tiny bowl?"

"I do. I'll get it ready for you in the bathroom. I'll be right back."

"What kind of soup do you have?" he asked hopefully.

I grinned. There was the Eric I knew.

"Tuscan chicken with celery, carrots, and sundried tomatoes. Madde made it."

"That sounds amazing." He didn't even open his eyes.

I prepared a small bowl for the contact lenses in the bathroom and nipped into my bedroom where I found him a warm hoodie, sweats, and a pair of thick socks. When I helped him sit up and pull the hoodie over his head, he felt like he was made of jelly. He pushed his arms through the sleeves and fell against the backrest.

"I'm sorry. I'm half dead."

"Here are the socks and sweatpants."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. Will you manage to get to the bathroom or do you need help?"

He smiled and peered up at me. "I hope I make it. If you hear a thump, come rescue me."

I offered him my hand and pulled him up. He shuffled toward my bathroom with his shoulders slumped, holding the bundled-up clothes in his arms. He looked like he could keel over at any moment.

When I came back to the living room with two bowls of soup and toast, he was sitting on the sofa, snuggled in my hoodie and with a blanket over his legs.

"I got another case of the shivers after I showered," he said, sounding apologetic.

"The soup should help."

"It smells divine. Rosemary and garlic. Mmm."

He polished off the bowl in a few minutes, then gazed at me with half-lidded eyes as I finished my portion.

"Can I stay here?" he asked, sounding hesitant.

"Of course. I was counting on it."

"I was mean to you last time."

"You weren't."

"And what I did today was incredibly stupid."

"Eric…"

"You don't have to coddle me. I've been irresponsible, and had immense luck that I bumped into Henke. I apologize and promise to be more careful."

I put away the bowls and sat next to him. Casting an arm around his shoulders, I pulled him to me and kissed his forehead.

"I'm glad you're here." I couldn't tell him that I loved taking care of him because that might sound selfish. "Now bed."

"Can I brush my teeth first?"

"Sure."

With the hoodover his head and his dainty fingers barely peeking out of the long sleeves of my hoodie, Eric looked unbearably cute. He was curled up on my bed, already asleep again. I normally didn't go to sleep before eleven, but tonight, I didn't even look at the clock.

I spooned him, resting my arm over his hip so I wouldn't put pressure on his chest or stomach. He snuffled softly but didn't wake up.

His nape smelled of my shower gel.

Faint light was creeping into the room when I stirred awake. It could have been around five in the morning. Eric squirmed in my embrace, nuzzling my collarbone. He pressed a soft kiss there and rested his cheek against my skin. We'd slept clinging to each other for the entire night.

Letting him know I was awake, I cupped his nape and kissed his forehead. He hummed against my skin.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," he whispered. "It's early."

"I don't mind waking up like this."

I skimmed my hand down his back and to his ass, pulling him even closer.

He kissed me under my jaw, opening his mouth, his tongue touched my skin, and as if with a press of a button, I was fully hard against him. Our cocks rubbed each other through the cotton of his sweats and my pajamas. The fabric chafed my exposed cockhead, but I didn't care. I only held him tighter.

Sneaking his hand between us, Eric tugged our pants low enough so we were skin on skin.

We bucked and ground against each other, sometimes getting too much friction, sometimes too little. He tucked his face into the crook of my neck and shoulder, moaning wildly. It was messy and clumsy…and beautiful. He held me tight, not allowing a breath of space between us, as if he wanted us to melt together. And I basked in his desperation.

Until it occurred to me why he might be desperate.

Would he leave? Was the damage to the cottage such that he'd give up and go back to Stockholm?

I'd just found him.

With a surge of need, I rolled on top of him, pinning him under my weight. Because he couldn't leave now. Not when I was finally discovering what it meant to be happy and in love.

He couldn't do this to me. I'd rebuild the damned cottage for him with my bare hands if that was what it took.

Eric spread his thighs and lifted his hips, but his feet were tangled in my sweats. He was trapped, and I liked that more than I should.

I took us both in my hand and watched him come apart under me. I had very little power over him, but for just a few seconds, when his cum splashed onto his stomach, I owned him. I stained his cock with my release and kissed him, morning breath be damned.

We mopped up with a dirty T-shirt, and I tucked him to me under the covers. We didn't say anything. I closed my eyes and imagined that this was my future. That he was my future.