Page 54 of Doing Life

“The band, silly. They don’t suck.”

“No, they don’t suck.” He dipped a fried pickle into the ranch and crunched down on it. This did not suck at all.

Chapter Fifteen

Camping.

Sloan couldn’t believe Lance had agreed to go camping, but after three weeks of them going out on dates, Lance had agreed to try it.

They’d opted for a cabin at Cooper Lake rather than roughing it in a tent or in his truck, because that was easier on their bones, and better for Abby.

The place was rustic, but clean, and it had taken Lance about an hour to figure out where all the stuff was. The bathroom was fab, with the whole thing kind of being the shower, the toilet cut off by a little partition wall, but very accessible.

Hell, even the guys in the wheelchairs could come here.

Maybe he would suggest a weekend trip with all the housemates to Lance.

He glanced over at Lance, who was lounging against him as they listened to an audiobook and ate Cheez-Its.

So no suggesting anything right now but kissing orange crumbs from Lance’s lips.

Lance had spent almost every night at his house unless Sloan was at work.

He’d been very careful to let Lance take the lead.

At first it had been just sleeping together—with space between them, then with Lance cuddled into his side. The next step had been when he’d asked if it was all right if he took his shirt off because it was warm in the house at night. Then he discovered Lance came to bed one night without his shirt on. He didn’t comment on the scars. Lance didn’t comment on his hard-on when they snuggled together in the bed. Fair was fair.

Then Lance’s pajama pants had become shorts. Little PT shorts that didn’t hide anything. It had been so easy for Sloan to do the same.

When Lance had reached over to explore his scars, his heart had damn near jumped out of his chest.

Now they were in the woods, alone, the heavy clouds promising rain.

Lance yawned, and he grinned, shutting off the book. “We had a busy day.” They had taken Abby swimming after the drive over to the state park. It had been awesome to see Lance wade in, allowing himself to be vulnerable. “Want to head to bed early?”

“That sounds great, babe. Let’s let Abby out and secure the food.”

“Deal.” Sloan rose, then touched Lance’s shoulder so Lance could grab his hand.

Lance’s fingers twined with his. “I don’t guess you want to… I don’t know. Explore our options in bed.”

Sloan blinked. “Are you talking about switching sides? I mean, I don’t mind, I just don’t want to misunderstand.”

“Switching sides. I guarantee you I’m still not into boobs.” Lance rolled his eyes, and a quick little grin twitched those pretty lips. Sloan could see Lance’s nervousness now. “I can’t guarantee you that anything will come of it, but it’s been a long time since we’ve been together and naked in a bed.”

“Fucking eons. Hell, even when we were both—” He wanted to say whole, but he knew that was a bad idea. “—younger. Having you and me together naked in a bed in the same bed was a rarity.”

“Yeah, no shit on that. Well, I’m willing, and I want desperately to try and be able. Like I said, even if nothing comes of it. Pun intended.”

“I’m interested.”

“I am too.”

And somehow he was supposed to remember how to walk and put food away and let the dog out when every bit of blood he had in his brain had evacuated and was heading south with a fierce determination.

Lance had always been able to do that to him. Say something that felt innocuous but somehow was hot as the hinges of hell.

He took a deep breath. Right. Okay. Food and dog. “I want that, honey. I’m hard as a rock. I hope that’s okay.”

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