Page 3 of The Wounded Mountain Man

"Hope mac and cheese is okay," I say, sliding a bowl in front of him.

He runs a hand through his thick beard—that's also new—and gives a firm nod. "Mac and cheese is perfect."

"Cool."

We start eating, and after a few bites, our eyes meet.

"Is it weird that I'm here?"

"Yes. No. I mean, yes, it's a little weird. But it's good. I'm glad to see you. I've missed you."

He finishes chewing, his rich forest-green eyes not leaving me. "I've missed you, too."

Another surge of warmth throbs through me, but I push it away, just like I've been pushing unwanted thoughts away ever since I realized I was in love with Wade the summer before high school.

For most of our childhood, I couldn't believe he picked me as his friend. Most people gravitated toward my brothers, Bodhiand Kynan. We're triplets. They're identical. I'm the dizygotic one, different in looks, personality, and in every other way possible. They're outgoing, charismatic, and even though they're my brothers, I can admit they're stunningly gorgeous, like modern-day descendants of the Greek gods with their sculpted bodies and angular faces, while lucky me inherited all the nerdy, lacks confidence in pretty much most social situations genes.

Living in their shadow has actually suited me just fine. I'm not a spotlight kind of guy. But Wade was the first—actually, the only—one who ever chose to be friends with me over them.

After he and I came out to each other, something shifted. Or at least it did for me. We'd still spend every spare moment together hiking or fishing or swimming, but there was an undercurrent brewing between us, something I could feel but never find words for.

So I kept my mouth shut about my feelings all through high school, and then at graduation, when I finally opened my mouth, I said the two stupidest words of all.

"We shouldn't."

I didn't mean we shouldn't kiss—because I'm ninety-nine percent sure that's what we were on the verge of doing—I meant we shouldn't do it right there. I wanted the first time to be special, romantic, not with the backdrop of my brothers taking cringey videos of themselves twirling in their gowns like idiots.

After graduation, Wade relocated to Georgia to begin his military training, and I went to the local college to study business administration, and despite remaining connected, we never spoke of it again.

I take him in discreetly. He's chewing slowly, like he's mulling something over, tiny lines appearing around his eyes. He's got a lot going on. It's been almost a year since that horrible accident, but full recovery is going to take years, and he might never regain full movement. I see it every day at work, veteranslearning to navigate life with new physical challenges. I wonder if he'll ever be able to go hiking through the mountains or swim in the lake or any of the stuff we used to.

After Wade finished four months of rehabilitation in Colorado, I assumed he'd return home. But he didn't. He stayed with some military buddies in San Diego where, according to him, he did nothing but bum around and sit on the beach, drowning his sorrows. When he ran out of money, he moved in with his mom and her new husband in Scottsdale. Our last text was three days ago when he wrote something about not wanting to overstay his welcome. Next thing I know, he's knocking on my front door, asking if he can crash. And shower.

"How's your mom and Dale?"

"They're good. Mom's happy, which is all I want for her. It's been fourteen years since Dad died, and it's time she moved on. Dale's a good guy. He treats her well."

"Was he okay with you staying there?" I've only met Dale a few times before they moved from the mountains to the desert, and he seemed nice, but you never know.

"He was. When I got there, he was midway through converting their carport into an Airbnb studio. I helped him finish it, and he said I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted. It's his second marriage, but since he doesn't have any kids, I think he's digging being a stepdad."

"That's sweet of him."

"It is." Wade sighs, dropping his spoon into his bowl with a loud clunk. "I just felt like a burden. And a total deadbeat loser with no money, no job, no actual prospects."

"Hey. You are not a loser." His defeated eyes meet mine, and he simply shrugs, like he doesn't even have it in him to fight me on it. "What about Hattie?" I ask. "Does she know you're back?"

Hattie is his sister-in-law. She runs the diner that's been in Wade's family for generations.

"No." He shakes his head and picks up his spoon again. "It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to leave."

"She'll be happy to see you. Not to mention Sofie and Jax."

His eyes brighten at the mention of his niece and nephew. "I'll pop in to see them soon."

We eat in silence for a while.

"So, why hitchhiking?"

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