8. Chapter Eight

Despite sharing the bed again, Jared and I managed not to spend the night in one another's arms the following night, but I was still twisted up in knots over that first night. I'd liked it, waking up in his arms, being surrounded by his strength, feeling his heartbeat against my back. I'd wanted to tell him that my feelings were… changing… but he'd insisted it had to be a one-time thing, so I forced myself to push through. He was gay, had always been out to me, and I suspected he just didn't want to feel like he'd made things challenging for his ostensibly straight friend. I'd never come out to Jared myself, largely because it felt unnecessary—it wasn't like I'd had a boyfriend or any kind of relationship with a man—so as far as I knew, he believed I was straight.

It's nothing. Lots of people cuddle with their friends,I tried to reassure myself. It doesn't mean anything. I wasn't sure it was working.

I slipped out of bed, leaving Jared asleep, and headed for the shower where I stood for an extremely long time, wasting hot water as I let it stream down my body, spray pounding the back of my neck. I stared at the floor, mind on a loop, replaying over and over the moment in which I'd woken up with Jared's arms around me. I didn't want to admit it, but I'd also felt his erection against my ass as he slid away, and instead of being upset in any way, I'd been curious. Even a little turned on. My body had reacted. Luckily Steve and Brock had shown up before I could do anything really stupid, but they wouldn't be rescuing me again. Our plan for the day was to meet near Kristiansand, where Jared and I would be staying overnight with my mamma, which meant I wouldn't be seeing our crew until much later that day. Unfortunately, it also meant that since we were in no hurry, I also had plenty of alone time in the shower.

I tentatively slid my hand down to my groin, touching myself under the guise of washing up. Instead of stroking myself right away, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander back to Jared, to the feeling of his body against mine. I remembered the way his arms felt wrapped around me in the airport, crushing me to him. Our kisses came back to me, the way his tongue felt as he slid it along mine, the way our lips locked together in a tangle of heat and intensity that I hadn't felt in a long time.

It didn't take long until I was fully hard, and I groaned as I gripped my cock and slid my fist along the length several times. I stroked faster, one hand pressed against the shower wall, my head dropped forward, the shower pounding my back. I imagined how it would feel to have Jared there with me, kissing me, trailing his lips to my neck and throat, his hand wrapped around my shaft. My breathing tightened and my heart pounded, precum pulsing from the crown of my cock.

A moan escaped me, quiet and low, and I imagined how Jared would look if he were there, his shaggy dark hair wet from the shower, rivers of water pouring down his firm chest, tanned skin flush from the heat.

In my mind, Jared whispered my name into the curve of my ear, and I shivered at the thought. I gripped my cock harder, stroking faster, and soon I was teetering on the edge of release.

"Jared," I murmured, barely audible even to my own ears, as my orgasm crashed into me and spurt after spurt of my release hit the shower wall.

Once I was spent, I took several deep, shaky breaths in an attempt to calm myself, rinsed off and cleaned away my mess, and turned off the shower. I dried off quickly and pulled back on my pajama pants before shuffling into the bedroom to find clothes, the cool air from the air conditioner chilling me and causing tiny chill bumps to raise on my skin.

Jared lay awake, scrolling on his phone, and he rolled to face me with a grin. If I didn't know better, I'd be sure it was a knowing, cocky smile on his face, and that he'd figured me out. It was impossible, but I felt my cheeks blaze with guilt anyway, and spun away before he could see.

"Good morning," he said to my back.

"Good morning." I ran my fingers through my damp hair and pulled a t-shirt on. "Are you ready for your big trip to Kristiansand?" Once I was dressed, I turned back to Jared to find him standing, shirtless and stretching his arms toward the sky. The long, tight lines of his body stirred something in me, and if I hadn't just gotten myself off, I would have been hard in an instant. I spun back around. "Sorry, I'll give you privacy."

Jared chuckled, warm and soft. "Since when did we hide things from each other?"

"We don't share everything, do we?" My tone was defensive and I knew it.

He sounded a little hurt when he spoke. "Just about." There was some rustling and Jared was silent for a moment before speaking again. "Okay, you're safe. I'm dressed."

I faced him again, relieved that he was, in fact, wearing a shirt. "Get ready. We have to get going."

"Coffee?"

I shook my head. "Sure, but we need to leave soon if we're to get to Mamma's house before lunch. Steve and Brock will be waiting."

Jared groaned, a sound that was meant to convey his disappointment but instead sent a bolt of heat to my gut. "Fine, no coffee. But you owe me."

"Yes, dear," I said, trying to force a light tone. "Now let's get moving."

The trip to Kristiansand was nearly a four-hour drive, and anxiety over how we'd manage being in a car together for that long, sexual tension simmering between us, was eating at me, making my chest tighten and my stomach churn. Eventually we'd packed overnight bags and tossed them in the back of the car before I slid into the driver's seat and we hit the road, Jared holding the camera we'd been given to record the drive.

As we settled back into each other's presence, enjoying just being near each other with nobody else around, we talked aimlessly for a while, debating over what music to listen to and what were the best trip snacks. I let Jared win out on the music, mostly because I didn't think he'd enjoy listening to songs in Norwegian, but I held firm that kvikk lunsj—crunchy wafers covered in chocolate—were definitely better than potato chips, unless the chips were paprika flavored. Even then, it was a close race.

About an hour from our destination, Jared turned the camera off and shifted in his seat to face me. "So."

I raised my eyebrows. "Yes?"

"Who will I be meeting, besides Mamma Solberg?"

"Kasper and Ingrid. That's all."

"Right, Kasper, the big brother who hates me even though we've never met, and his lovely wife Ingrid."

I hummed and nodded. "That's correct."

"How can I win over your mom? I want her to like me."

I reached over and patted his hand. "Don't tell her we're in a fake relationship, for one." I chuckled and shook my head. "Seriously, I'm sure she'll love you. But if you really want to impress her… offer to help her in the kitchen. Compliment her cooking. Try everything on your plate, even if you don't want to. Mamma won't make anything too outlandish, but it's worth saying. You should give everything a chance."

He nodded, brow furrowed as if he were making mental notes, clearly taking my instructions seriously. "How about Kasper and Ingrid?"

Laughing, I shook my head. "I'm not sure there's any hope for them. Kasper hates everyone, and Ingrid, well, she follows Kasper's lead."

"Well, I've been known to thaw even the coldest icebergs." He grinned, a mixture of cocky and reminiscent. "Remember that time we got lost on the bus and ended up, like, an hour from home before we realized it? And I charmed the bus driver into giving us free fare back home?"

I rolled my eyes. "I was thinking more of the time we tried to make krumkaker for the class and used salt instead of sugar, and we still managed to pass the assignment thanks to your fast talking."

Jared laughed, his smile widening. "And we didn't figure out our mistake until we served them to the whole class."

"And Ms. Jones took a big bite and got whipped cream all over her blouse and then had to spit hers into a napkin because it was so horrible."

We both laughed for several moments, and when I quieted, my entire body was warm from the inside out. "We tried so hard," Jared finished. "At least Ms. Jones took it well enough and didn't fail us."

"I believe she said something about learning to translate more carefully. I'm glad she didn't realize that both the word for salt and the word for sugar are practically identical in both Norwegian and English and our problem was more sixteen-year-old hubris than anything language related."

When we were nearly at our destination, with maybe a half hour to go, Jared turned the camera on once again. "Hey, what's your next story about?" He always asked about my work as a travel writer, and I smiled softly, appreciating his interest.

"A bed and breakfast I visited up in And?ya. I went to see the puffins and ended up staying at this place that I'd never heard of before. It was run by this older gay couple, Luca and Marco, who immigrated from Spain many years ago."

"Really? Did you find puffins?"

A soft smile crossed my face. "I did, but what really stuck out were Luca and Marco. They were so in love. Luca smiled at Marco like nothing I've ever seen. One night I got up around 22:00 to take a walk and photograph the sunset, and there they were. Luca was playing his guitar for Marco, who was sipping a glass of wine and watching Luca so intently. It was like they didn't even notice the beauty around them, because they were so focused on the beauty of their love." I sighed quietly. "I've never seen anything like that in my life. I've seen so many people in love, but the way these two were so devoted to one another…" I shook my head, realizing I was rambling.

When I glanced at Jared, his smile matched mine. "That sounds beautiful."

"It was. I guess I'm just a hopeless romantic." Before we could speak about it further, the GPS announced that our turn was approaching.

Jared shifted in his seat again. "I guess that means we're almost there."

I hummed and nodded. "Just a few minutes."

He let out a long, slow breath. "Bring it on."