Page 153 of Finding Delaware

My jump at the qualifier earned me a new sponsorship, and I’m repping them with their brand on the side of my new helmet. Part of our contract entails daily social media updates from me with their company logo in the post; in return, I receive free gear. As someone who’s pretty illiterate when it comes to this kind of shit, I’d be lost if Salem wasn’t managing my online presence for me. She’s a saint, and we should honestly start paying her soon.

Once the ‘work’ is done, we have the fun, racing each other and jumping off small mounds while everyone else takes turns on the four-wheeler. I even let Huckslee have a ride on my bike, reminding me how fucking good he looks when he’s racing. Ten out of ten. He needs to get back into riding because my mind is conjuring up all kinds of devious things I can doto him on a bike. The way his eyes heat with desire when I whisper that into his ear has my own blood running hot.

Christian was right about one thing, I’m fucking desperate for him. It’s driving me crazy not to be able to touch him like I want, to run my hands over the hard lines of his shoulders and arms on full display in the sleeveless shirt he’s wearing. He cut his hair again the way I like, short on the sides with longer curls on top falling over his brow, and I want to mess it up. Tug my fingers through it while he deepthroats my cock. At one point, he pulls his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face, flashing glistening abs, and I almost drag him behind a tree right then and there to have my way with him; consequences be damned.

“You’re drooling, Taytortot,” Salem snickers, passing over her camera to show me the photo she snapped of him, and you can bet I’ll be adding it to the album on my phone of Huck that I shamelessly jerk off to.

When the sun eventually starts to descend below the treeline, we put the bikes away to get a fire going, all eight of us surrounding the pit to roast some shitty hotdogs and marshmallows. I’m about halfway through my fourth smore, enraptured with the sight of Huck licking melted white goo off his lips, when Arya pulls a baggie out of her bra.

“Who’s ready to get this party started,” she sings, holding up a plastic bag full of mushroom caps.

“Oh, hell yes.” Xed is the first one out of his seat, reaching for the bag, but I snatch it before he gets a chance.

“Nuh-uh, nope.” Pointing a finger at him, I shake the baggie. “You lost your party privilege by being a dick earlier. AndI’m not about to babysit seven tripping assholes by myself. You and I aren’t taking any.”

His jaw drops, eyes widening as he glares at me incredulously. “Who the fuck died and made you king?”

“I did.” Christian raises his hand, taking the shrooms from me. “My family’s property, my rules. I ain’t about to have anyone wander off where they shouldn’t and get eaten by bears or some shit. Two of us need to stay sober to watch.”

Logan’s head snaps up from where he was skewering a marshmallow next to Salem. “Did you say bears?”

“Why does it have to be me?” Xed growls, flinging out his hands. “Why can’t it be Matt?”

“Matty and Huck are leaving soon. They deserve to let loose one last time before training camp.”

“And I don’t deserve to let loose?”

A snort leaves my throat as everyone passes the bag around, pulling out caps. “You’ve let loose like every single day for a month. Give someone else a chance. If you wanna smoke, go for it.”

Xed plops back down into his seat, seething in my direction, but I ignore him as I grab bottles of orange juice out of the cooler and hand them out.

Huck looks down at his drink with a raised brow. “OJ?”

“Helps hide the bitterness and enhances the trip,” I answer, grinning. “You ever used magic mushrooms before?”

Logan answers with an uncertainnowhile Huckslee nods.

“Once, a few summers ago, but we didn’t drink juice.”

Matt opens his bottle, popping the mushroom cap into his mouth before taking a few gulps with a grimace. “The citricacid helps break down the psilocybin, so the effects hit sooner and harder.”

“Bottoms up.” Salem does the same, her eyes narrowed challengingly at Logan as if daring him to follow suit.

Christian downs his whole bottle before slapping Logan on the shoulder. “No one’s forcing you,hermano. If you don’t wanna do ’em, you can babysit with Tay.”

“Please,pleasechicken out,” Xed begs, sliding off his chair to his knees. “Come on, Logan. You’re a better man than this.”

Arya rolls her eyes, smacking her plump lips. “You just want him to say no so you can take some yourself.”

“I never saidIwas a better man. And no one asked you.”

“I’ve just about had it with your attitude.” Christian shoves him over sideways, the two arguing while Logan deliberates. He glances at Huck, who shrugs before swallowing his cap with a giant swig, and excitement lances through me. I’ve never seen him high before, but I can’t wait to experience it firsthand. After a few more moments, Logan meets Salem’s gaze and takes the mushroom, not breaking eye contact while he swallows. A slow, dangerous smile spreads on her face, like a cat who just caught a mouse.

Yikes.

“Best of luck, buddy.” I pat his arm with a snicker before scooting my chair closer to Huck, wanting to watch his eyes to catch the exact moment the trip hits.

Everyone bullshits around us for a while, but my focus is on him. The way his lashes fall over his cheekbones when he blinks, that husky tone to his voice when he laughs at something Matty says, the shadow of his jawline against thefire glow. When he notices my staring, he turns and raises his brows, amusement dancing across his features.

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