Todd sat down with a flop next to me. He smelled like whatever that detergent was he always used. I felt my pulse quicken like it had a thousand times when he was this close. Tingle in my scalp. My stomach tightened a little.
"Thanks for making this happen," he said with a sigh, easing back into the overstuffed couch. "It's good to finally be away."
"Yeah, I know," I said, trying to mimic his relaxation, even though I felt like I was twitching with electricity with every inhale.
The cabin was warm, as dusk settled over the wide fields and distant trees outside the large windows on either side of the fireplace.
"You...you want a fire?" I asked, trying to find anything to fixate on other than how close his thigh was to mine. There were chairs flanking the couch. Why was he sitting right here?
"Absolutely," he said. "You any good at that? I feel like every time I try, I spend an hour just fighting for a single flame."
"Yeah," I said with a smile.
Letting my lips free like that felt risky--like I was smiling too much. Did he notice? Of course not. Calm down.
I stood up with a bounce in my best effort at conveying a nonchalance I certainly didn't feel. I pulled aside the grate over the broad stone fireplace and started grabbing twigs and pieces of bark from the woodpile nearby.
"You...you just gotta start with things that are small enough to catch quickly, give them space to breathe and then move to, uh, bigger and bigger pieces until you get to the split logs so that by then there's a nice solid core of coals. Don't crowd or try to rush. Let air circulate but not so much that you can't get the critical mass of heat. I guess."
I had my back to him while I was crouched and arranging everything. When I turned to grab a bit of newspaper and matches to get things started, I realized he was staring at me with a smirk.
"What?" I asked, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious.
"Nothing," he said with a toothier smile. "You're just cute when you go into information mode."
What the fuck did he just say?
I couldn't hold eye contact. My face was so hot it could have lit the fire for me. So I just kind of chuckled and shrugged while I fumbled with the matches. I struck a couple, which was more than I needed to because the first one did the job. But I couldn't think of what to say or do exactly, so something intentional like adding more matches just kept me busy for a second. The paper went up quickly and started curling the tips of twigs as things grew steadily. Adding more matches would start to look silly. So I stood back up.
I almost went for a chair instead of returning to my spot beside Todd--just out of instinct. A little extra space was my default. The best way to make sure no one thought too much. Or noticed if I did.
Todd patted the couch cushion exaggeratedly.
"Come enjoy a job well done," he exclaimed warmly. "Look at it go."
Now I really couldn't sit anywhere else. That'd just be too obvious and probably insulting. So I sat back where I had been, taking in the blazing results of my accurate efforts.
What am I supposed to do with my arms?
I just kind of let them rest at my sides.
"Ok, now let me do what I know how to do," said Todd, bounding up off the couch as well and strolling over to the broad countertop behind us. I heard glasses clink and the thick pop of a stopper coming out of the top of a bottle.
"Mm, I know that sound," I said, trying to seem as comfortable and free as Todd always was. "What'd you do?"
"I know what I'm doing, man," laughed Todd. "I bought this the day you first asked me about this weekend. Glenlivet...eighteen it says? Eighteen years old I guess? Is that good? Ok, maybe I don't know what I'm doing."
He laughed as I heard the glugs filling the glasses.
"Is that good?" he asked again, his hand appearing over my shoulder with a half-full glass of dark brown scotch.
"That...is a lot," I laughed. "But, yeah it's good."
"But not your favorite," he added. "I can already tell."
"No, no--Glenlivet is great," I said quickly, taking a deep sip.--
"Yeah but when you're really into something...I can tell the difference."
Todd eased himself down carefully with his own glass. Somehow, he was sitting even closer. Our legs were softly touching now. I took another long full sip and then a slow breath.
"Thanks," I said. "It's genuinely really good. And not cheap."
"Gotta try my best! You're hard to satisfy."
He smiled as he sipped.
"Ok, yeah that is good," he said. "I did a good job. Maybe this is my favorite."
I laughed. I smiled. It lingered. He smiled as he drank. He closed his eyes for a moment to savor. We sat silently. We could do that. We did that all the time. Quiet or not, sharing or not, just together. Why did this, here, feel like...so much?
Twenty minutes later, our glasses were empty and my head felt spacious and light. I couldn't even tell if I was smiling for real anymore or if it was just my insides. Warm. Calm. But not detached or lost. Very, very present. The fire popped, bouncing sparks off the grate.
"Another?" asked Todd, waving his glass gently.
"In a little bit I think," I said. "This night will wrap up really quickly if I do that again too soon."
"Good point," sighed Todd, still smiling though. "Don't want that. The whole point was to enjoy the time, not forget it."
Silence again. We sat. We watched the flames.
"So what do you normally do up here?" he asked. "When it's just you, I mean. I know how much this place means to you. Just wondering how you do it right."
"I mean, truly whatever," I said with a shrug. "That's the appeal. Literally nothing demanding anything of anyone out here. You can just kind of...be here. Follow your impulses. Or not--it doesn't matter."
"So in other words, eat, drink, and jerk off?" laughed Todd.
"Exactly," I laughed back. I mean, he wasn't wrong actually. But I felt a rush, even through the buzz of scotch. Like he found me out.
"Sounds good to me," said Todd, setting his empty glass aside and stretching his arms widely overhead. His shirt lifted enough to see the shadow of dark hair below his belly button on his flat, tight stomach.
It took a second to realize I'd stopped breathing. When he leaned back again, that brief glimpse of skin and hair disappeared. I blinked hard and looked away. Did he notice?
"Ok, so that's one outta three down," he said, reaching over and gently turning his empty glass.
"Yeah, we're doing well," I said with a smile, but I felt tense and hot.
"So what's left?" he said with raised eyebrows and a mischievous look. "Eating or jerking off?"
I laughed. I shook my head and looked away. I should have said something but I literally forgot what words were for a minute.
"I--I mean we can eat if you want," I said after a beat, sidestepping the more obvious line of his joke. It was a joke, right?
"Boo...." he said, with his exaggerated thumbs-down waving it at me.
I laughed again, but it felt hollow. My face was so warm and I felt my fingers shaking.
"I'm kidding man," he laughed, seeing through my obviously failing attempts at coping. "Nah, I'm not hungry."
That only kind of defused the steadily tightening knot in my stomach.
"I mean I could jerk off, don't get me wrong," he laughed, leaning back against the couch harder. His legs widened and pressed against me more. "But that's almost always true."
I just smiled and breathed shakily through my nose. Couldn't even fake a laugh. I felt him looking at me. I couldn't look back.
