Page 33 of Honeysuckle
“Earth to Dean.” Cael’s voice snapped me from my thoughts and his bright smile came into view like a universal reminder that, no matter how I felt, Cael would still be there to love me the way I needed him to. “Your boy is struggling…”
LOGAN
Theharnesswasadeath trap—designed to frustrate even the smartest of users. There were way too many buckles, at least sixteen more straps than necessary, and every time I put it on, it felt wrong.
“Fuck.” I stepped out of it again and stared at it. I didn’t even want to do the ropes course, but I wasn’t about to give them another excuse to corner me with their judgmental anger and hair-trigger fists.
“You have it backwards,” Dean said as he approached. The sweater he was wearing hugged tightly to his strong shoulders and tapered at his waist. The thin athletic shorts did nothing to hide his huge thighs. I hated to admit that I thought about them more than I should. But it was hard not to, when he was parading them around. I could swear that our only saving grace during a bear attack would be that Dean Tucker could probably choke it out between his legs with little to no effort.
I shook my head clear of the thoughts and cursed again at the tangle of straps in my hands.
“Can I help?” He asked me with his hand extended for the harness.
“I can put on a couple straps, Tuck.” I kept the harness close to my body and turned my eyes back to it with a small frustrated sigh.
“I don’t want you breaking your legs. Just let me help, it won’t kill you.” He snapped his finger at me and grumbled.
It might.
I handed him the harness and watched him sink to his knees on the soft forest floor.Jesus fucking Christ—those were the only words left in my vocabulary as he tilted his chin up to look at me and the sunlight danced around in those seaglass eyes.
“Right foot,” he said, without missing a beat or noticing how flustered I had just become.
Shit.
“This is fucking dumb,” I growled, but stuck my leg out for him.
He held out the harness, letting me step into it, and I became oddly aware of his fingers and palms as he lifted it over my hips–careful never to touch me.
“Can you hold this?” He asked, his eyes level with my hips and I gripped the belt as he started to tighten all the straps, one at a time, left to right. He looked at the straps on my inner thighs and paused before looking up at me. “Can I touch you?” He asked, his voice lower than before, and I nodded, turning my head away from his burning gaze.
His fingers smoothed out the strap before he held it flush to my thigh and tightened it up against his hand. I could feel every move he made without looking at him, his knuckles brushing over the other thigh as he repeated the progress. I kept my eyes on everyone else, trying to focus on something or anything else than his touch.
I expected to find people staring, but no one seemed to care that Dean was on his knees helping the ‘enemy’. Everyone was too busy tightening their own harnesses or planning strategies for the course. At Lorette, such a public show would have been considered cause for ridicule. The homophobic slurs would have been flying the moment Dean offered his help, but here no one gave a shit.
It was strange being around people who were so well-adjusted.
It didn’t excuse the brutal rage that festered between Todd and I, but at least it wasn’t being backed into a corner. Here I could breathe long enough to fight back.
Ian’s sick smile flashed through my mind, his hands, the running water—
"Okay, enough," I snapped, stepping back from Dean.
He put both hands in the air to show me that he wasn’t touching me anymore and rose to hover over me again. It wasn’t threatening, but he waited until I’d calmed down before he asked: “Is it tight enough? Check for me.” He nodded to my waist and I gave it a tug. There was barely a finger space between the belt and my skin. “Good.”
Dean watched for a second longer and I knew he wanted to ask what the outburst was about, but someone called to him.
“Yo, Tucker, can you help me too?” Jensen stood with the harness tangled in a massive knot and a stupid look on his face. Dean looked back at me to check one last time, the pause enough to make me want to tell him to fuck off, but I held my tongue.
I don’t need your pity.
I inhaled a breath of clean air, untainted by his scent, and went to stand with the rest of my group. Todd was running his mouth about being the best at the course while the other three were staring up at the ropes like they were going to vomit.
“Who’s going first?” The instructor asked, scanning the group.
“Logan.” Todd offered me up to the wolves without a second of consideration, but I wasn’t going to let him win this stupid game he was playing. If his intention was to rattle me, it wasn’t going to work. I was going to run the course, faster than him, and then I’d be done for the day.
“Fine,” I said, stepping forward.
