Page 48 of Constantly Cotton
The trail abruptly bowed into the lake, close to the edge, and Cotton took a moment to step out and look around. Across the water he could see the marina to his right, and his and Jason’s cabin, farther back into the trees, in front of him. True to his word, Jason was right where Cotton had left him, curled up on the wicker couch on the front porch, under a blanket, a book in his lap. He had his chin on his fist, though, and was probably dozing.
Cotton started to wave anyway, ripping off his shirt and flapping it madly, and Jason startled and waved his arm back and forth, seeming happy to see him. After a quiet flutter of his hand, Cotton put his shirt back on and disappeared back into the trees to see Medina gazing at him fondly.
“What?” he asked.
“You make Constance happy,” he said quietly. “Don’t tell a soul I said that. As far as most of us are concerned, he’s sexless, like a dragon or a whale or something. But you make him happy, and the last year has been hard. Most of us have wives or girlfriends or boyfriends to keep us from getting dragged under. He’s got no one. It would be really good if he could have someone.”
Cotton looked away. “I’m not in the military,” he said softly. “I’ll never get called into your secret base. There’s not a spare hole in the middle of the desert he could keep me in like a little fieldmouse.”
“Well, if there’s a way, Colonel will find one. He’s super damned smart, you know.”
“I’ve noticed,” Cotton said quietly. Then, to change the subject, “How cold do you think the water is?”
“Want to find out when we get back to the cabin?” Medina asked excitedly.
“God yes.”
Cotton’s shirt was soaked with sweat, and it sheened Medina’s face and neck. The red dust kicked up by their shoes stuck to their ankles and calves, and every breath of air in the trees felt stolen from the shade, which was almost as oppressive as it was cool.
“Maybe if we hurry, we won’t break and try to swim across the lake fully clothed,” Cotton said, thinking he could probably do a couple of laps if he didn’t have cargo shorts and trainers on.
“I’ll take that bet.”
Together they hustled along the narrow path, watching for bumps that might turn their ankles but otherwise keeping their eyes very much on the prize of jumping in the water when they’d walked the second half of the lake.
The last stretch, the stretch on the side with the cabins, had no trees at all next to the water, and by the time they’d drawn even with the front of Cotton and Jason’s little shelter, they’d finished all their water and even Medina confessed to being a little dizzy with the heat. When they hit a good patch of beach, one not too tangled with vegetation but not littered with rocks either, the two of them stripped off their shirts and kicked off their shoes and socks, unloading their water bottles and wallets with their shoes. With a few strides and a bound, Cotton pitched himself hands first into the water and swam to the center of the lake before the chill could take his breath.
He turned in the water and had a thought.
“Wait, aren’t you guys armed?”
Medina had surfaced a few yards away. “You mean besides my knife?”
“I was thinking a gun—I sort of thought you were my bodyguard.”
“I am, sort of. But we’ve been under surveillance the whole time. I mean, you can’t be on alert constantly. You get tired and mistakes happen. I got my first break, and you wanted a break too, and I figured, ‘He’s an okay guy—let’s hike the lake together!’”
Cotton thought about that, thought about having a friend who wasn’t and hadn’t ever been in porn. Thought about how this young, adorable soldier should have turned his key in a big way, but all Cotton could think of was getting back to the cabin and drying off on the porch, and telling Jason that they’d seen three deer on the far side of the lake and, a little closer, a family of bunnies.
“It was fun,” he said, because he was learning the value of having one person who knew all your secrets and how not all your friends needed to be up in your business. “If you want to take your break tomorrow, I’d love to do it again!”
“Excellent!” And then Medina swept his arm through the water, splashing him thoroughly, because apparently guys couldn’t be friends if they weren’t also assholes. Cotton met him with a drenching of his own, and for about twenty minutes they played “drown the asshole” or whatever game that was before they pulled themselves out of the lake, panting.
Medina put on his shoes and used his shirt for a towel, his bronze skin and tiny plum-colored nipples absolutely hot… but not at all as appealing as he would have been before Jason had called Cotton his angel.
“See you tomorrow about ten,” he said. “Give Briggs a buzz if you can’t make it.”
“Dude,” Cotton said, and they bumped fists before Cotton made his way back up to where Jason sat, watching the two of them with bright, curious eyes.
His cargo shorts were nearly dry as he hit the porch, but his skin remained lake cool. Jason gave him a heavy-lidded smile that Cotton interpreted with a throb in his groin.
This man—this decent man, whom the whole world moved heaven and earth to save—wanted him.
“Have a good time?” Jason asked.
Cotton grabbed his hand, not sure if he’d appreciate the familiarity, but Jason pulled it to his lips and held it against his cheek. “Cool,” he murmured, closing his eyes.
“Still a little warm,” Cotton told him, cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb along Jason’s cheekbone. “But getting better every day.”
