3. Present Day

CHAPTER THREE

PRESENT DAY

MAX

T he meal is cold, but it's good enough. I'm glad Harrison insisted on over-packing food and water in case the bikes broke down. A sandstorm was supposed to be a remote possibility.

We sit next to each other, the rock wall at our backs, eating by the soft green glow hanging around our necks. Our gear is sitting under the glow stick at the entrance, so it's easy to find. Harrison is organized when it comes to this stuff, and he doesn't seem bothered by the situation.

"What would Jay be doing if he was here?" He asks, breaking the silence first.

"He'd already be exploring. He'd have done that before setting up any kind of camp." Jay was always looking for the next adventure. "Getting the lay of the land, he'd call it."

Harrison takes a swig of water, and I watch him swallow. He lifts an eyebrow and offers me the bottle. "Bludging, so he doesn't have to set up."

Jay always made sure he appeared busy, like he was working hard. I was about fourteen when I realized he was really good at doing nothing. I think he let me tag along with whatever they were doing so they could order me around. I never said no because I didn't want to be left out.

Harrison is all laughter, but he always made sure everyone was sorted. Jay appeared more serious, but he was always chasing the next thing. My parents called him ambitious and driven, and I could never quite live up to the reputation he'd crafted. For a time, I resented him and his friendship with Harrison.

"You miss him," I say. I should miss him more. But once he left for the army, all I felt was relief that he was no longer blocking the sun.

"Every day. He was the brother I never had. You too." He smiles, and it's meant to be friendly, but in the green glow with the storm as background music, it appears menacing.

I lick my lip, needing to know, and this may be my only chance. "You never dated him?"

Harrison freezes for a split second, like he needs to find the words to lie. Another person may not have noticed, but I can read him too well. He shakes his head. "Nah. He wasn't into that."

I remember Harrison dating girls and boys in high school, and I've always wondered if something happened between them. It doesn't matter, and I'm not sure why I asked, but since we're talking about Jay and doing this trip for him…

"Did you ask him?"

He's silent for a couple of heartbeats. "I thought about it at one point." He shrugs, his lips twisting into a grimace. "But I figured from some of the things he said that he wasn't open to trying anything. I wanted to keep him as a friend more than I wanted him as a lover. You don't mess with things that are working." He stretches out his legs and rearranges himself. "I have sand all up in my junk."

I can't help but glance at his crotch as he does. Now I'm thinking about his junk and the way it filled his briefs this morning before he'd gotten dressed. Why the fuck do I remember that? That wasn't all I noticed. He had a way of talking to people and making new friends with a few words and a smile. He'd been leaning on the hood of the guide's four-wheel-drive, drinking black coffee from a tin cup while reviewing the map with the guide, chatting like they were old friends.

Harrison exuded calm confidence.

And when he'd looked over at me—too busy checking my boots for wildlife to be useful—and smiled, it hadn't been the rising sun or the coffee warming me up after a cold night of desert camping.

What the hell is wrong with me?

This is Harrison, my brother's best friend, someone I call a friend. A man who just said I'm like a brother to him. And I'm…catching feelings? I've never thought of a guy in that way. I look away, frowning. Not wanting him to see the confusion etched on my face.

"Same." He's not going to waste water on washing, not when we have no way of knowing how long the storm will last. "You must be used to it, though."

"There are lots of things you get used to, but sand in your crack rubbing your ass raw is not one of them. Still better than leeches. I hate them."

I don't want to think about his ass. Too late. I play in the local rugby team; I see a lot of fit guys with what most people would call nice asses. But thinking about Harrison's ass…that is something else. My dick twitches. I need a distraction. "Which is worse, spiders or leaches? "

"Spiders because they can be venomous. But let's not play that game sitting in the dark with nowhere to go."

Something brushes over my hand, and I yelp and swear even though it's only his fingers. "Asshole."

He laughs, head thrown back, and it echoes off the walls.

He's good-looking with a grin that draws people in. But I swear this is the first time it's done something to me, like I'm weightless for a moment. This time, my heartbeat increases for reasons other than fear.

Have I always found him attractive?

I've always dated girls. I find them attractive with their curves…but I want to lean over and lick his throat to taste the sweat and the sand on his skin. He glances at me and falls silent as if I spoke that thought out loud.

All I can hear is his breathing and my pulse thumping in my ears.

"Maybe we should do some exploring…for Jay?" Harrison says. His voice is rough, like the sand has gotten to his throat.

I swallow and nod, unable to tear my gaze away. "Yeah, for Jay."