Page 45 of Take Me with You

He quickly pointed to the two fishing poles on the dock, their lines disappearing into the river. “Aren’t you doing that with those?”

My eyes followed his finger and then my head snapped back after his question. “Wait? What?”

“Those poles. We’re hunting for lobsters right now, aren’t we?” he asked.

I grabbed him and pulled him on top of me, smothering his face with kisses. Between my laughs and his sweet face, I could barely contain my love for his naivety concerning what I did for a living. Every time I looked at his confused face I burst out laughing again.

“You’re in for a big day tomorrow, my sweet little boy,” I said. “You’re in charge of the food. How about we start there?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: Hayes

Istretched out fully on the bed, yawning and watching Bo fill our coffee mugs. He knew exactly how I liked my coffee. Black with cream only. He teased me about drinking coffee without sugar every time he handed me a mug full.

“I hope the heck you don’t drink your sweet tea the same way,” he stated.

“I don’t drink sweet tea,” I responded.

He hit his forehead with the palm of his hand in mock shock. “Well, that explains those abs.”

“I’m sweet enough, stud, and now that I have you, I’m even sweeter.”

He immediately took the mug from me after I took my first sip and set the mug out of my reach on the table. “Get that sexy ass outta bed.We is goin’ huntin’ for some of dim lobster thingies,” he twanged in his best hillbilly voice. Bo sat his coffee down and kicked his legs up, side to side, like he was dancing at a hoedown.“Whattaya say pawdnah?”

The dance was quite the wake up call and it sure as hell helped that he was butt-ass naked. “Is this what life with Bo Dawson will be like?” I asked. “Because if it is, I am down for the naked morning dances. Now pull me out of bed, Fred Astaire.”

Bo yanked me to my feet and we glided around the room like ballroom dancers. He spun me around and dipped me, planting a kiss on my face with each dip, both of us naked as jaybirds.

“What was the song you were singing the other day?” he asked, grinning and dancing around me like a fool.

I pointed at him, holding my finger in the air for a moment as I got set up. “This one?” I asked, before starting. Then I started bouncing up and down like I was at a rave.“We goin’ fishin’. We goin’ fishin’,”I singsonged.

“That’s the one!” he hollered. “Yeehaw!”

We joined hands and danced around the room.“We goin’ fishin’. We goin’ fishin.”

Bo was a boy trapped in a man’s body. All spontaneity and joy-filled in his actions. His personality was contagious and I felt alive with him. He obviously didn’t care if he appeared silly or immature. This was him living on his terms and I was drawn to him like a moth to flame.

We spun toward the bed and collapsed onto it, breathless and laughing hysterically. “And that’s how we start our day before work,” he announced. “What do you think, baby?”

I crawled onto his chest and locked my eyes on his. “This is why I love you, Bo,” I whispered. “And yeah, of course, there’s a million other reasons, but I think this side of you is the main reason. You make me feel alive.”

His smile relaxed as he studied me carefully. “And you brought me back to life, Hayes.”

“So, you rescuedmeso I could rescueyou?” I asked.

“Something like that.”

“Are you happy, Bo?” I asked. “I mean, with me?”

“Of course I am, baby. I love you,” he said. “I sometimes look at you and wonder how I was so lucky that you found me. I hope you’re happy with me.”

Our shared sentiments only reminded me that I had never experienced this kind of love. My teenage years were about fulfilling expectations. The right grades, the right college, the right friends. Not only was the idea of making the right connections drilled into me by my father, but even Phillip at sixteen adopted the view that privileged folks surround themselves with other privileged folks. Both my father and Phillip despised goofy actions orembarrassing antics,as Phillip described them.

“I love how you treat me, Bo, and how you see me as a whole person and especially the way you listen to me when I talk about my feelings. Frankly, I’m not used to that kind of support.”

I laid my head on his chest and our breathing synchronized as my head rose and fell with each of his breaths. Bo allowed me to drape myself over him, sit on him, lay on him, lean on him, whatever I needed to feel close was accepted and he never pushed me away or discouraged my attachment. I’d never been allowed to invade a person’s space before. When I’d been continually discouraged to be close to the object of my affection, I began to feel unloved. I hungered for touch.

“I was thinking about how I used to wish for someone to hold at night. I wanted a man who would make me feel like I was his world,” he began. “I’ve only been with one person and don’t get me wrong, Jamie was nice, but he didn’t like me to paw at him. I felt ashamed or weak when I so desperately wanted his touch, but yet, I settled for what we had because I wanted to be loved, Hayes.”

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