Chapter 1
Mitch
Epic. That’s what Craig had said. Come on, it’ll be epic, Mitchell.
To be fair, his best friend had caught Mitch when his defenses were down. He’d broached the subject at the pool, the sunlight dancing across the water, momentarily blinding anyone nearby. Heat rose from the ground, shimmery waves hovering over the concrete, reminding him of why they’d come out to the pool in the first place.
The air-conditioning in their antiquated apartment could barely keep up and the cool water had beckoned them on that lazy afternoon. The temperature had been unbearable for days and it wasn’t even technically summer yet. If you don’t like the weather, just wait fifteen minutes. Having grown up in Kansas City, Mitch had heard that all his life, and usually the expression rang true. Not this time. This heat wave had arrived strong and kicked everyone’s ass before it’d settled in for a nice long stay.
With college graduation firmly in the rearview mirror and a new job coming up, Mitch had been restless. He’d needed something to do for the next couple of weeks. He’d felt numb—almost lethargic—after spending weeks cramming for finals, interviewing for jobs, and preparing for graduation. With nothing demanding his attention, his mind had wandered where it shouldn’t—to a place he’d long abandoned. A place that made him want what he knew he couldn’t have. Still, no matter how many times he’d tried to censure himself, the what-ifs played havoc in his mind.
Tendrils of hope had already sprouted, slowly weaving through him. Mitch had fought it, truly he had. At night he’d lain in his bed, forcing himself to face away from the wall separating their bedrooms and pretend he wasn’t aware that his best friend was mere feet away. Mitch could hear every small sound, every step in the room, every shift on the mattress. He’d closed his mind to it—burying his head under his pillow and damning to hell the architects who had designed the paper-thin walls in their apartment building.
But it hadn’t worked. Nothing worked. The ache had only grown until it had morphed into a huge gaping need that threatened to follow Mitch all the way to his new life in West Virginia. For years, he had worked hard to keep those damn feelings at bay and yet, here he was, almost across the finish line and dangerously close to letting his secret out. Emotions were swallowing him up and he was losing control.
What he needed was something to fill the time—something to occupy his mind.
And of course that’s when it had happened. The moment he knew his life would change, for better or worse. They’d been the only two left at the pool when Craig first brought it up. And it had all boiled down to two words.
Mitch hadn’t even bothered with a beach towel that day. With the crazy heat, it hadn’t been necessary—he’d been practically dry in the short walk from the pool to the white metal lounge chair. Settling in, the old chair loudly protesting, Mitch reached for his phone and checked for any messages. His sister had promised to send him some information about an apartment building within his price range and fairly close to her place. But there was nothing, so he leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, his face to the sun, wondering if he needed to reapply sunscreen.
“Mitchell!”
Why does he always have to call me that? Everyone else calls me Mitch. He ignored the flutter in his gut and opened one eye, his hand against his forehead shielding his eyes from the sun.
But he couldn’t protect himself from the bright smile on the face of the man walking toward him, nor the warmth spreading through his chest.
Traitorous heart. He was screaming it in his head, but as usual, his heart ignored him as he soaked in the beauty that was Craig. At least Mitch was practiced at appearing nonchalant. He’d certainly had years of practice.
“I’m right here. You don’t need to yell.” Mitch was fairly certain the tremor in his voice was too insignificant to notice. He’d opened his other eye to drink in the sight of his best friend walking toward him. Shirtless. The few water droplets that hadn’t evaporated yet falling from his short dirty-blond hair, rolling down his broad chest. Hair swirling over—
“Road trip!”
Mitch jolted, brought his gaze back to meet Craig’s eyes. He scrunched his brow as Craig took a seat at the end of his lounge chair, but Mitch shifted his legs, making room for him. His friend rested his warm hand lightly on Mitch’s calf and he bit back the urge to moan, trying to ignore the electricity coursing through his body. A light breeze carried the scent of Craig’s shampoo and he swallowed hard.
“What are you talking about?” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat.
Craig laughed, his sky-blue eyes glittering in the sunlight. “We need a final adventure, man. Just you and me. One final blowout before we turn into adults.”
Mitch shook his head. “We are adults, dork. I’m twenty-two and you’re a year older.”
Craig only gave him that lopsided grin and squeezed Mitch’s leg. “You know what I mean. We’re about to move across the country and start new jobs. It’s not going to be the same. We need a road trip.”
Across the country was right. While Mitch was moving to West Virginia, Craig was starting his newest chapter in sunny California. The very idea of being separated by that many miles made Mitch’s blood pressure spike, so he tried not to dwell on it.
“Where?” he asked tentatively. This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. Say no. This is a bad idea. Just say no.
His best friend had jumped up, pacing as he spoke. Craig was a lot like the bunny that sold batteries—full of energy. Always animated when he talked, pacing around, constantly moving, or talking. It drove a lot of their friends crazy, but Mitch found it charming.
“Since we’re both moving, how about we just travel through Missouri? I mean, we’ve lived here all our lives, but just think of all the touristy things we’ve never really done. It’s the Show-Me State, so why not let it show us the highlights?” Craig began ticking things off on his long fingers. “The Arch in St. Louis. Branson. Lake of the Ozarks.”
Mitch’s heart was already pushing him to say yes, even though his mind knew the danger. There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed and this trip would blur them. “I’ve been to the Arch. And Branson,” he pointed out.
“But it’s been years, right? Come on. It’ll be epic, Mitchell,” Craig cajoled.
Craig’s attention was on him, heating his skin, and Mitch couldn’t speak yet. He knew he should say no. He was supposed to say no. He glanced over at the water and tried to figure out how to form the word.
“Plus, we can finally check out Mark Twain’s home. You’ve always wanted to do that,” Craig added.
Mitch’s heart stuttered as he looked up and found Craig’s gaze still on him. His twinkling blue eyes were pleading with him and it wasn’t in Mitch to ever deny Craig. It just wasn’t possible. Toss in the chance to see where Mark Twain lived and that was his Achilles’ heel.
He said yes. Of course he did. Craig prattled on for a while, but all Mitch was able to do was watch him in awe. Craig had always been the kind of guy that reacted with his emotions. If he was happy, everyone knew it. Sad, they knew it too. But this was different. Pure joy radiated from the inside out. Mitch had the wild thought that if he peered hard enough at Craig’s eyes, he might even see rays of sunshine emerging. It was a fanciful thought, but he couldn’t shake it. There was such happiness in him.
God, if only Craig knew how much Mitch wanted to make him happy. He would’ve done anything to see that smile every day for the rest of his life.
“This is seriously going to be epic!”
There was that word again. Epic. Craig strode over to the deep end, muscles flexing as he moved, ready to dive back in. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it really would be epic.
Craig stopped at the edge of the pool, turned back, and grinned. “Just imagine it. You. Me. Best friends hitting the road together.” He flashed him the thumbs-up before he dove in, slicing through the crystal water elegantly.
Mitch’s heart took a dive too. Best friends. That’s all they were. s**t. What had he gotten himself into?