“Teaching,” Collin answered, but he didn’t sound like he was telling the truth. Not completely. “I miss teaching.”
“What did you teach?”
“I was a professor of Zoology back in England. Mind your step.” Collin stepped over a fallen tree branch. Spencer made a little hop to get over it, and landed like he was pretending to be a figure skater. Max would be surprised if Spencer made it out of the river unscathed. He hoped the rest of the trail was as easy as the first half mile.
“There’s a lot of bugs out here,” Spencer commented, swatting his hand in front of his face.
“It’s nature,” Max and Collin answered at the same time.
Spencer mumbled something under his breath and kept walking. Max kept his eyes on the ground, now wondering if they would make it to the river without Spencer’s brand new boots giving him blisters. Max hated feeling like such a judgmental prick, but every step he took further into this trip, the heavier his doubt and regret weighed on his shoulders.
“Why are you giving all this up?” he asked Collin.
“It’s...past its prime,” he answered. “Bit like me.”
“I’d argue both counts,” Max countered.
Collin hesitated, but didn’t reply to Max, choosing instead to say, “The trail gets a little steeper from here on, and there’s poison ivy to the left side of the trail. Be mindful of where you step. Also, look out for snakes.”
“Snakes?” Spencer screeched, and more birds flew away. Max chuckled, this kid was like wildlife repellent.
“Of course,” Collin deadpanned. “It’s nature.”
Chapter 4
Collin is in for a long night
Oh, bloody hell, what had he gotten himself into? It was like the universe was trying to either reward him or punish him for closing down the tours—and he couldn’t begin to figure out which one it was. He knew the two were going to be trouble the moment he set eyes on them, and not because he’d had years of men just like them sitting in his lectures.
Yes, he’d seen his fair share of Spencers—pretty, well-off, a little too oblivious for their own good, but well meaning. And the Maxes—brooding, attractive, and only peripherally aware of it. Max concerned him most of all. There was a pain in his eyes he wasn’t anticipating for someone who had booked a rafting tour with his boyfriend, and this was definitely not the place to find yourself, or whatever boys like him wanted to do when shit went awry. He’d half a mind to say that back at the start of the trail, but there was a determined set to Max’s jaw which told Collin he wasn’t going to get anywhere with him.
So, he’d put on his shades and braced himself for the inevitable flood of questions from Spencer. And he was not disappointed. Spencer also did not disappoint him in his absolute and utter fear of everything around them. Collin knew he was mostly talking rubbish about the snakes—yes they were there, but they’d long since avoided the well-used hiking path. But it brought him a little joy to watch him yelp and ballerina step around every stick and fallen log. And it wasn’t because he had a nice ass. It absolutely and completely, utterly, wasn’t.
“How much farther?” Spencer asked.
Collin fought the urge to roll his eyes as he brought up his watch, but before he could answer, Max scoffed. “What are you, four? We’ve been on the trail like ten minutes.”
“Try ten hours,” Spencer retorted. He turned desperate eyes on Collin. “Please tell me it’s been longer than ten minutes.”
Collin lifted a brow, keeping pace, though he let Spencer stew for another minute. “Thirty-two minutes, so you’re both wrong. We’re probably another two hours away, and then we can set up camp and have a rest.”
“Thank God,” Spencer breathed out, and Collin didn’t miss the way Max rolled his eyes.
In truth, he knew it was more than just annoyance. Yes, Spencer was fussy, and pretty. His boots looked like they were wearing blisters into his feet more than protecting him, and Collin would bet every quid he had in savings that his equipment was fresh from the packaging. But there was a sweetness to his innocence, a purity to it that made him want to cup his hands around it and protect him.
People like himself, people like Max with the way his shoulders hunched and his eyes were dark-rimmed like he hadn’t slept in days, they hadn’t tasted anything sweeter than the bitterness of life in far too long. He didn’t know Max’s story, but he knew it would be an easy bet to assume he’d known struggle and heartache. And he’d also be willing to bet that for all that Spencer annoyed Max, he also felt that same draw.
It was why Max picked on him, pulling pigtails in the schoolyard.
Collin appreciated that they both kept up, even when he could feel Spencer starting to flag, and he didn’t miss the sigh of relief when Collin navigated them into the clearing the tours almost always used as a camping site. The ground was mostly clear from the last tour Michael had taken, and the fire pit was blackened with fresh ash.
“We should get our tents set up. Pick a spot between trees so if it rains, you can brace your tarp over the top.” Collin let his pack slide down to the ground, and he rolled his shoulders backward. His bones ached with age, with overuse these past few years. He wasn’t quite ready to be put out to pasture, but he was starting to feel like it, and being around two fit men like Max and Spencer didn’t make him feel any better.
“Are we going to have a fire?” Spencer asked, cutting into Collin’s thoughts.
He turned and saw Spencer pulling down the zip on his pack. “Reckon we will. I don’t think the pit’s too wet from the rain, and if we want to cook dinner, we’ll need one.”
Spencer’s nose wrinkled. “We’re not, like...going to hunt for it, right?”
Max scoffed as he unraveled a small, one-man pup-tent and shook it open. “Fresh game too gross for his majesty?”
Spencer scowled. “I just don’t like killing things.” He dropped to his knees, and Collin tried his best not to notice how fluid the motion was, how good he looked that way. Christ, he was a pervert. “I’m not like a vegetarian or anything, but I don’t know. I don’t think I’d want to see my food with a face on it.”
“We’re not killing anything,” Collin said tiredly. He pulled the rations out of his pack--tinned meats, beans, some squashed bread. He had a small sachet of coffee for morning, some powdered creamer, sugar. The kettle and extra water would be lighter by sunrise, and he appreciated it. “Nothing here’s five stars, but it’ll keep us full until tomorrow.”
Spencer gave him a dubious look, but he carried on digging into his pack. Like Max, he had a ready-set tent, but along with it, a rolled tight air mattress and a pump. He laid it out on the ground, holding the pump in his hands, his nose wrinkled.
Collin felt his absurd urge to take the younger man in his arms and press a kiss in the center of that wrinkle war with the one that wanted him to shake the man and ask him how he’d managed to be so naive for this long. A bloody air mattress?
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Max’s voice cut through the quiet, and his boots crunched through pine needles as he crossed the distance between his tent and Spencer’s. “Is that an air mattress?”