Follow the River

“You ready for this shit?” I ask Rain over my shoulder.

I’m digging through a clear bin I found in the hall closet that housed a few Christmas decorations, smiling like an idiot. Nothing fancy is inside, just white string lights and some standard buffalo plaid ornaments. I’d found it there the other day when I was searching for a second pair of snowshoes before remembering they were out in the shed with all the other sporting equipment.

But the minute I found them, along with a tree stand, I sent Coach a text asking if it would be okay for us to set up a tree. He agreed, so long as we tore it all down before he was here to pick us up at the end of our stay.

Hence, where we are now. Me and my die hard Christmas-loving ass asking for Rain to help me decorate for the holiday.

“Do we have to?” he gumbles, leaning over the back of the couch, staring at me.

My brows raise in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?” I scoff when he nods in affirmation. “It’s Christmas Eve and we chopped down a damn tree for this and hauled it back here. Of course we’re going to decorate the damn thing, you nutsack.”

Yep, you heard that right.

Two days ago, I dragged Rain into the forest in search of the perfect tree for us. It only took an hour to find one I thought was manageable enough to both cut down and haul back to the cabin, but Rain bitched and moaned about it pretty much the whole time.

Such a fucking Grinch, this one.

And even after our fuckhot rendezvous in the middle of the forest that I swear could have melted the snow on the ground around us.

“All part of your brilliant plan, I might add.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” I snip as I drag the box over to where the tree is held up in its stand, just next to the fireplace. Pulling free a strand of lights, I motion for him to join me. “Let’s go, Scrooge.”

Rain lets out a huff of indignation before rising to his feet and crossing the room to me.

“You’re such a pain in my ass,” he gripes as his hands snake around and palm my ass.

I simply smirk, not saying a damn word until he realizes the opening he left me. Because there is always an opening when it comes to the shit he says. I mean, come on. I’m a bisexual man and you’re talking about pain in the ass. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to decode my thoughts on that one.

Still, it takes a moment, but his eyes widen, then he frowns at me. “You’re such a fucking child.”

“Oh really?” I laugh, grabbing the back of his neck with my free hand and bringing his mouth to mine in what is meant to be a quick kiss…that quickly turns into a full blown make out session.

It’s honestly a little surreal, being with Rain like this.

Open. Free. Affectionate.

And still, it’s not always perfect. I can tell there are times when he starts to feel uncomfortable with how we touch each other. Moments when he hesitates. Whether it’s when our lips first touch, or the first seconds my hands or mouth are on his cock.

He still fights the attraction flowing between us, and in turn, has what I’ve dubbed mini meltdowns. Where I watch the wheels turning in his head and the tick of his jaw set, like he’s preparing for battle.

There have been a couple times where he’s snapped at me over the past four days, but in all honesty, I expected it. I’m not looking to change who he is as a person. He wouldn’t be Rain if he wasn’t a little bit of an asshole and I like him exactly how he is.

Especially when he’s deep inside me, which in itself is mind-boggling.

When we fuck, pure and animalistic and…hot as hell, it’s like we cha

In short, it's the polar opposite of the vibe we’ve had flowing between us up until a few days ago when he flipped out on me, thinking I left him here on his own.

Because, apparently, I’m the kind of person to do that to someone.

I’ll never admit it to him, but that hurt me more than anything he’s ever done or said to me. Never in my life have I claimed to be perfect or upstanding at every moment, but there are a few things I would never do. Abandoning someone, that’s high on the list.

Especially when I know what it feels like.

A nip on my bottom lip pulls me out of my thoughts, and I’m left panting when I pull away from him, but there’s a huge smile on my face. When he sees it, his mouth lifts into a small grin too.

That fucking smile.

It might be the best part of this whole arrangement we have going on, getting to make him smile. And shit, I almost got another laugh out of him the other day. He played it off, attempting to cover it with a cough, but I heard it. The decadent sound will be ingrained in my mind forever, making me wish to hear it as often as I can.

I meant it when I said I would try every day to make it happen.

“Come on, you just got laid this morning,” I chide, removing myself from his tempting grasp.

We’ve hardly kept our hands to ourselves in the past few days, even with Rain’s issues adjusting to our new status quo. But God knows we need to learn how to handle being in the same room without getting naked and fucking on whatever surface might be available before we become addicted.

“We should do this while we still have a few hours of daylight, so we can enjoy it.”

Starting at the bottom, I begin stringing the lights around the tree, only to find Rain staring at me and…

Holy shit, he’s actually standing there pouting. I mean, sort of. In a more masculine, I-could-rip-you-limb-from-limb way.

“Who are you, a male version of Cindy fucking Lou Who?”

I smirk at his movie reference, knowing he’s full of the most random ones. He even quoted Mean Girls the other day. His asinine use of the phrase boo, you whore in a valley girl accent damn near brought me to my fucking knees, I was laughing so hard. He says he learned them from using an obscene amount of GIFs in texting chains with his friends in high school, but I don’t believe him for a second.

Besides, when it comes to the usage of Mean Girl references, the limit does not exist.

“I think that would be Tiny Tim?” I laugh as he finally joins me in ru

“Nothing tiny about you, babe.”

My heart stutters at the endearment and I freeze. Rain doesn’t notice right away, just holds his right hand out for more lights as his left fiddles with the section he laced through the branches of the tree moments ago.

His attention snaps my way then, probably wanting to know what the hell my issue is, but my stu

“What? Why are you staring at me?”

I don’t answer, just continue fucking staring.

I can tell the moment he realizes what he said, because red tints his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Sorry, it kind of slipped out.”

I bite my lip in an effort to keep from smiling, but it’s no use. Before long, I’m gri