Page 11 of Betting Brett

I’mstandinginfrontof my wardrobe, a sense of anticipation rising up inside me. This weekend at the cabin with Andy is something I've been looking forward to since the moment I found out he was moving back, but now, with the day finally here, I find myself feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

And horniness. Definitely horny. The thought of his “bet” about the blowjob hasn’t been far from my thoughts, no matter what I’ve been doing this week.

I move aside a couple of wrinkled shirts. I've never really given much thought to what I wear. Most days, it's just jeans and a t-shirt, whatever's clean and at the top of the pile. But today feels different. Today, I want to make an impression. Even though I know I don’t need to, I want to look good.

I rummage through my drawers, pushing aside the usual suspects until my fingers brush against the soft fabric of black Calvin’s, cut so that they rise higher around my ass than most of my other cheap boxers and briefs. I remember buying them on a whim because I liked the look of them, even thinking they were a bit too much for my life. Right now, however, they seem perfect for the occasion. I slip them on, admiring the way they hug my body, accentuating all the right places.

Shit. I should wear them more often.

I pair them with some nice jeans and a crisp white shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone for a casual look that shows off some of my chest. Taking a final look in the mirror, I’m happy with what I see. It looks like I made an effort, but I still pass for fishing cabin casual.

I grab my overnight bag and head out. I loaded the gear and the food in the truck earlier. Jen and Isabelle are staying at the house this weekend, and I call out a farewell to Jen and hug my daughter as I leave. The drive to Andy's place is short, but with each passing minute, the excited butterflies in my stomach multiply.

Butterflies… damn, when’s the last time I felt those?

All week, I had taken for granted that Andy had meant what he’d said about the bet, even though he protested that he was joking. Suddenly, it occurs to me that might not be the case. The butterflies multiply, but I get to Andy’s house before I can worry about it too much. Pulling up to his building, I see him waiting outside, and my breath catches in my throat. Andy looks incredible. He's wearing a pair of dark jeans that fit him just right, showing off his toned legs. His shirt, a deep shade of blue, brings out the color of his eyes, making them sparkle even brighter. His hair, usually a wild mess, has been styled, giving him a rugged yet polished look. The stubble on his face adds to his charm, making him look both boyish and manly at the same time.

"Hey," he greets, his voice smooth as he approaches the truck.

"Hey," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "You look... good."

Andy chuckles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You don't look too bad yourself."

I smile, at ease again now that I’ve seen him. "Ready to go?"

He nods, throwing his bag in the back. "More than ready," he tells me as he climbs into the passenger seat.

The drive to the cabin is a journey down memory lane. The winding roads, surrounded by tall pine trees, are reminiscent of countless trips made during our childhood. The cabin itself, nestled deep within the peaceful woods that border Shafter Falls to the north, has always been our sanctuary, a place where the world's troubles seemed miles away. As we approach, the familiar sight of the wooden structure with its log walls and green shingled roof comes into view. Its rustic charm, unchanged by the passage of time, brings with it a deep sense of nostalgia.

Parking the truck, I take a moment to breathe in the fresh air, the scent of pine filling my lungs. Andy steps out of the passenger side, stretching his arms and looking around with a smile.

"Damn, this feels like going back in time,” he tells me, grinning wide.

“Doesn’t it?”

“Remember when we tried to build that treehouse just behind the cabin?" Andy says, pointing towards a group of trees. "We got about three boards in before we realized we had no idea what we were doing."

I chuckle, the memory coming back in high definition. "Yeah, and then it became the 'world's smallest deck.’ We spent every trip up here with my Dad that entire summer lounging on those three boards. Talk about all the shit we wanted to do when we grew up."

Andy laughs, "Most of which involved becoming rock stars or astronauts. Ah, to be young and naive again."

We share a moment of comfortable silence, lost in our memories. The weight of the years seems to lift, and for a moment, it feels like we're those same carefree kids again.

We head inside, the cabin's interior welcoming us with its familiar warmth. Wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, and a large stone fireplace dominates the living room. There’s a cozy bedroom with a queen bed in the back and a sleeping loft upstairs.

I’m not quite ready to deal with the issue of who’s sleeping where, so as we pack things in from the truck, I make a pile between the kitchen and the living room to deal with later.

After we get the truck unloaded, neither one of us feels like cooking, so we grab granola bars like we’re twelve again and decide to take a walk around the property. The sun is beginning its descent, casting a golden hue over the landscape. We walk side by side, sharing memories and laughter.

"Do you remember the time we tried to camp out here in the middle of winter?" Andy asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

I laugh hard, "Oh, that was a fucking disaster. We thought we were so prepared with our sleeping bags and snacks. Didn't anticipate the snowstorm, though."

Andy chuckles, "We lasted, what, two hours before running back to the cabin, freezing and covered in snow."

I nod, "But it was worth it for the hot cocoa Dad made."

We continue to reminisce, each memory bringing us closer, the tension curling in my belly with every step. The bet, though unspoken, is ever-present in my mind. I had barely been able to stop thinking about it. Not since Andy said those words.

---