Page 11 of Love Notes and Late Nights
Wolf let out a small moan and looked up at Harris, the corners of his lips curled into a smile. “You’re good at this. You should do it for a living.”
Heat rushed to Harris’ cheeks and he froze, unable to move his hands another inch.
“Don’t stop.” Wolf took the last bite of his candy bar, balled up the wrapper, and tossed it onto the patio table.
Harris finally let out the breath he’d been holding. Feeling flushed and overheated, he started massaging Wolf’s shoulderagain, but it was too much. Too electrifying. Too wonderful. Too tempting.
Thankfully, a rumble diverted his attention to the sand as the tow truck driver hauling the disabled Jet Ski saved Harris from his inappropriate thoughts. He met the driver, and they went over referrals for a repair shop, then he paid for the tow, both from the water and to the suggested repair shop.
When Harris returned to the deck, Wolf was already grilling the steaks and the corn on the cob, and his shirt was back on.
“Wolf, you don’t have to do that. I was gonna do it.”
“I broke your Jet Ski. I’m not even buying you dinner. The least I can do is cook it.”
The steaks came out amazing and were done to perfection. The corn was sweet and charred and buttery, and Wolf grilled a bunch of asparagus that he found in the refrigerator that tasted like something Harris never expected. He never knew he liked asparagus or that his housekeeper bought it. He wondered if asparagus always tasted so good or if Wolf had some kind of secret culinary skills that made them delicious.
“I cooked. You clean up,” Wolf said, leaning back in his chair. “I was only joking!” He jumped up and took the plate out of Harris’ hand. “I got it. You can find something for us to watch on TV.” Wolf paused. “Unless you want me to leave.”
Harris’ shoulders fell. “Why in the world would I want you to leave? You got hurt on my Jet Ski. You made this awesome meal. Now you want to clean up.” He jutted his thumb toward the house. “The kitchen garbage needs changing too—I’m kidding!” Harris quickly clarified, a happy smile on his face. Although he could have done without Wolf taking a tumble in the water, he had an awesome time today, and he certainly wasn’t ready for it to be over. “We’ll both clean up.”
When they were done, they went outside to sit on the deck. “This is beautiful,” Wolf said. “The breeze is chilly, but it’s invigorating.”
“I have a hoodie or blanket if you need it.”
“I’m good. If I get too cold, I’ll let you know.”
They ended up watching a movie on the deck, thanks to Harris’ new giant outdoor TV. He looked over at Wolf, now huddled under a blanket, and the memory of how he clung to the blanket after he woke from the nightmare a few weeks ago resurfaced. Harris hated thinking about that night. He hated that Wolf was going through a difficult time, which seemed to be ongoing.
Wolf shifted his gaze from the TV screen to Harris and gave him a lopsided smile. “Why are you looking at me instead of watching the movie?”
Harris felt genuine heartache for this man. He wanted to wrap his arms around Wolf and hold him until all his worries and troubles disappeared. Instead, he reached over and placed his hand on Wolf’s arm. “How’s your shoulder?”
“It’s good.” Wolf demonstrated by raising his arm. “I’m glad I came over today. I’m having a great time.”
“Me too.” Harris smiled. “I’m happy we’re spending more time together.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Wolf jumped out of bed and bolted out of his room. He was halfway down the stairs when he realized he was screaming, and he stopped short. The house was dark except for the glow of the outside lights, casting weird shadows on the walls. He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. The only sound he heard was his heart pounding in his chest. He was shaking, but not from the chill he felt in his bones, from the aftereffects of the nightmare. His chest heaved and quaked as he tried to catch his breath. He hadn’t been running that fast, but his lungs felt as if he’d been running all night. Then he burst into tears.
His legs couldn’t hold him up any longer, and he collapsed on the step. Pushing his fingers through his hair, he cradled his head in his hands and buried his face in his knees. He could never understand how he lived through those moments firsthand, as if they were just part of his everyday life, but rehashing them in a dream sent him spiraling, unable to breathe, and on the verge of a panic attack.
He had no idea how long he sat there in the dark, but eventually his racing heart returned to a normal rhythm and his tears ceased. He looked up at the landing to the second floor. He didn’t want to go back up there. He didn’t want to sleep. So, he went into the kitchen and made himself a pot of coffee, because a single-serve Keurig wouldn’t suffice.
He was on his second cup when he decided to walk out front and breathe in the night air, because he was sick of staringmindlessly at the time on the wall oven. He’d been watching the digits change for over an hour.
Outside it was quiet and peaceful, but the air was crisp, and he shuddered. He realized he was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs but didn’t want to go inside. He hugged himself as he gazed at the mountains in the distance and the winding roads below. There was still a decent amount of traffic, even at this hour, because there was always traffic.
A breeze blew his hair in front of his face and made gooseflesh rise on his arms. He began to shiver, so he returned to the kitchen, refilled his coffee cup, and threw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie. He just took a seat on the back deck when his phone chimed. Wondering who the hell would be calling him in the middle of the night, he looked at his phone and was surprised to see Harris’ name on the screen. “What’s up? Everything all right?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Harris said.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw your lights on from Mullholland, and . . . um . . . I wanted to make sure everything was OK.”
The statement didn’t sound very plausible. There was a small window where his house was visible from Mullholland, and identifying it while driving—at night—was practically impossible. The only way to really see it was to park at one of the overlooks and get out of the car, but he didn’t press his friend for more details. “I couldn’t sleep so I was just getting some fresh air. What are you doing? Are you nearby? Come over if you’re not doing anything.” He wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon, so company sounded perfect.
