Heteroflexible

He doesn’t say a thing to me as we walk down the driveway to his truck.

Double shit.

I swing into the passenger seat, and before I can take a breath, the pair of us are speeding off to his ranch in the waning sunlight. The uneven hum of the engine fills our ears along with the wind that blasts in through the rolled-down windows, tossing my hair in every damned direction it pleases.

So much for taking all of that time in the bathroom mirror to fix it up nicely.

“I see you’re back in your truck,” I note, attempting a casual dialogue, dipping a toe in the figurative waters.

He takes a minute to respond. “Yep.”

“So … you’re recovering then?”

“Yep.” He’s gripping the steering wheel especially tight. “Foot’s pretty much back to normal now.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you kept off of it this past week like you were supposed to in the first place.”

“Did you tell your mama?”

The sudden question hits me right in the belly button. I close my eyes. I can’t lie to him. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

I sigh. “It’s just my ma. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It isn’t a big deal, Jimmy, and I only told her that we—”

“That we what?”

“That we …” I open my eyes and face him. “We had a few real feelings to work out between us. That maybe there’s something going on. And to keep it quiet.”

Jimmy brings both his hands to the steering wheel, wringing it as he mulls over that information with a sternness in his pretty brown eyes.

He doesn’t say anything.

“I swear, Jimmy, it isn’t a big deal.”

The noise of blasting wind still fills the car without a word from Jimmy Strong to join it.

I sigh. “Are you mad at me?”

He gives it a second of thought. “Nah,” Jimmy decides. “Not mad. I just didn’t realize we were tellin’ anyone anything yet.”

I watch the side of his face. “This isn’t one of those situations where you tell me you aren’t mad, then sulk all evening and act like I’ve gone and killed your cat, is it?”

Jimmy smirks. “No. I’m not mad. And you know I’ve never had a cat.” Then he eyes me. “You look cute tonight.”

I fight a smile, then nod at him. “Keep your eyes on the road.”

“I am.” After a second, he lets one of his hands drop back to the gear shift, returning to his usual method of driving in that one-handed, proud, chariot-commanding way of his.

“And … thanks,” I add belatedly.

That makes Jimmy chuckle. Then he bites his lip, gives his hat a tug, and continues on driving, half a smile on his face.

I feel a wash of relief that he isn’t mad about the telling-my-ma thing. The relief carries me all the way out to the Strong ranch where we find a spot in the gravel, kill the engine, then hop out of his truck and head up to the house.

Jimmy stops me before we reach the porch with a tug on my arm. “C’mon. This way.” Then he heads around the porch to the other side of the house.

I follow him to the pool, where he stops, then proceeds to kick off his shoes, yank off his socks, drop his pants, and peel off his shirt right there.

My pulse accelerates at once. My eyes are glued to his figure as he stands there in just a pair of skimpy, tight black briefs—the same ones he wore to the gay nightclub. They could be Speedos, for as low-cut and ass-squeezing as they are.

Then, with a coy look over his shoulder, he asks, “You ready for a dip?” before diving right into the pool.

I glance toward the house. There’s a light on in the kitchen, but I don’t see any activity. I look the other way toward the long path that leads to the woods in the distance where Tanner and Billy’s house is. Nothing but gently swaying trees meet my eyes.

No one’s around us. Nothing. Not even birds. It’s rare that you find yourself all alone with the one person you want to be with in a place like Spruce—where there are always eyes.

Today, there’s only us.

With a smirk, I bravely kick off my shoes, peel off my shorts, then take off my soccer jersey shirt.

So much for painstakingly choosing what to wear tonight.

I throw the ball of them at a nearby pool chair, then slide right into the cool, glistening water wearing just my tight red boxer-briefs. The water swallows me up in its cool embrace, casting little ripples across the surface.

Jimmy swims a lap around the pool, then slows down to a stop in front of me, beads of water dripping from his hair. His brown eyes sparkle as he stares into mine.

“Hey there, boy,” he says to me.

I shoot out one tiny, nervous breath out my nostrils. “Hey.”