Status Update (#gaymers) (6 page)

“I’ve spent a lot of time wrestling with exactly what I believe,” Noah said, his tone reluctant. “I grew up in a very conservative household, and for years I simply believed what my folks believed. But the last few years, my beliefs have...evolved. God and my faith are fundamental to me, but I haven’t been able to find a spiritual home at any of the Landview churches.” He said the last bit like it was a big confession.

“I take it your work isn’t crazy about that?”

“We’re supposed to have an active and ongoing relationship with our faith, but so far no one’s said much to me about not having a church. And I’m still a believer, it’s just more...personal these days. How about you? Is your family religious?”

“Well, first off, my folks are divorced. My dad’s Jewish and my mom’s a lapsed Catholic, so I get both Hanukkah and the occasional trek to Midnight Mass at Christmas. But me personally?” He shrugged, seat belt pulling against his shoulder. “I’m a pretty open-minded guy, but I’m more into science.”

“You can be into both,” Noah said mildly, and Adrian remembered Noah’s profession.

“You’re a fascinating bundle of contradictions, Professor—oh wait, I don’t even know your last name!”

“Walters. And I’m not
that
big of a mystery.”

“Oh yeah?” Adrian was about to unleash more probing questions when the sky opened up, sending thick white flakes raining down on the road.

“Sorry. We better check the weather again.” Noah turned back to the radio, catching a local Grand Junction station.

“It’s a veritable blizzard on the way folks.” The announcer’s voice crackled. “If you’ve got holiday travel plans, you may need to change them. We’re looking at up to three feet by midnight, and more coming overnight. This may break a thirty-year-old Thanksgiving snow record for Colorado.”

“Oh heck.” Adrian let his head thump back against the seat.

“I’m going to need you to search on one of our phones for campgrounds close to the next few exits. Right off the interstate would be ideal.”

“Wait. What? We’re just giving up?” Adrian looked at the powder starting to stick to the cars in front of him.

“We need to start making alternative plans. The bad traffic isn’t the only issue. The roads are quickly getting unmanageable.”

“I haven’t done it in a long time, but I grew up driving on snow. You just go slow—”

Wobble.
Wobble.
It wasn’t a full-out skid but the rear of the vehicle gave a definite wiggle, and Noah dropped his speed to arthritic turtle.

“I’m sorry, Adrian. I know how much you wanted to be home tonight. We can keep checking on the roads and go as soon as it’s safe, but we need somewhere to hole up, and if we think ahead right now, we can avoid being trapped when the interstate becomes a big parking lot in an hour or so.”

Grandmother Gottlieb served her turkey promptly at noon. If this blizzard was as big as the folks on the radio were predicting, the chances of him getting a slice of her cherry rhubarb pie were dropping by the moment. His mother would serve
her
turkey at 5:30, and woe to the guy who missed both family dinners.

As if on cue, his phone made cuckoo clock noises, startling both dogs and the white-knuckled Noah.

“What the devil is that?” Noah demanded.

“My mother. I better answer. Mom?” he said into the phone.

“
Adrian.
Tell me you aren’t trapped behind this storm.”

“I’m not
behind
this storm,” he said carefully, watching the fat, white flakes pile up on one another.

“Adrian. Are you on I-70?”

“We’re just past Grand Junction. Traffic’s barely moving.”

“That’s because there’s a huge accident ahead of you. It’s on the news, and there’s talk of shutting down the interstate completely if this snow’s as bad as predicted.”

Adrian groaned.

“Honey. This is why I wanted you to fly. You’d be here already. You could be helping
.
”

“Pixel and I hate flying. And road trips are fun.”

“Well, now you have to make alternative plans. You do have a plan, right?”

God, his mother would love Noah—all plans and contingencies and looking ahead.

“I know you. You’re probably planning to keep going until the highway patrol says to stop, but Adrian, a bit of forethought wouldn’t hurt...” She rattled on, warming up to her main point of attack. “I knew driving in November was too risky. I would have happily paid for your ticket. And boarding for your dog.”

“I can get my own tickets, Mom.” Adrian sighed. Why did everyone insist on acting like he was some slacker on the verge of homelessness? Sure, the first year or two out of school had been lean, but since the game got funded, he was making more than enough.

“All right.” His mother didn’t sound convinced. “I’m just worried about you, honey. Of course, I want you here, but promise me you’re not going to take stupid risks.”

“I’m not going to take stupid risks. I think we’re going to find a campground at the next exit.”

“Oh good. That boyfriend of yours must be able to talk some sense in you.”

Yeah.
About that...
”Uh-huh.”

“Can I talk to him? I should thank him for taking such good care of you.”

With that, Adrian’s stomach landed somewhere around his so-not-a-boyfriend’s feet.

Chapter Six

This would be the perfect moment to tell his mother that Trent wasn’t coming, and even if the man next to him would make a far more suitable date, that wasn’t happening either, but all Adrian could manage was a noncommittal noise.

“Uh, he’s driving right now. And the roads are pretty bad—”

“Which is why you need off them. Darling, I can’t wait to meet your man. The whole family is so excited that you’re bringing someone. Deron and Emily are so happy you could make the wedding, and I know Deron is eager to meet this new man of yours. He only wants the best for you.”

His mother’s attempts to smooth things over only made them a thousand times worse. Yeah, he and Deron were still friends, but he didn’t need the constant reminders that things could be tense. It was like his mom wanted to announce the exit to Awkward Town miles in advance instead of letting Adrian navigate for once. Nor did he need his mother acting like he’d achieved some sort of huge life milestone simply by getting a boyfriend.

But he didn’t say any of that, only said the usual “I love you” as he ended the conversation.

When he looked up from his call, Noah had turned on the blinker.

“There’s a sign for a campground off this exit. Can you look it up on the phone?” His voice was tense, and his lips were set in a thin, firm line. Man, he really was nervous about the snow. Adrian’s shoulders sank down under the steady press of guilt. He shouldn’t have dragged Noah into this mess.

He reached over and patted Noah’s thigh. “We’re going to be just fine.”

The RV wobbled again, hugging the shoulder hard to avoid a skid.

“Crap. Okay. You’re right. We really should find this place,” Adrian conceded.

“I’ve never seen snow come down this fast before.”

“You haven’t driven in it much?”

“I went to college and graduate school in the South and now, living in North Texas, it’s not often an issue, but I’m fine.” The shake to Noah’s voice belied his words.

Adrian found the campground information. As he read off the directions, carefully navigating, he gave a few snow-driving tips to Noah. He took direction surprisingly well. Adrian liked that in a man, but he was too busy worrying about the weather to really enjoy that discovery.

They pulled into the tiny U-shaped campground, stopping by the mobile home with a flickering Office sign in the window. Noah braved the snow to get them checked in, then drove them to their assigned space. The snow made it hard to see the space dividers, and the picnic area was nothing more than a mound of white. Noah went out a second time to mess with the hookups, leaving Adrian to set things up inside.

While he waited, Adrian let himself have the dangerous fantasy that Noah was the “nice man” his mother wanted for him. In his fantasy, Noah would come tramping back to the RV, then Adrian would borrow his still-warm coat to take the dogs out, then he’d warm them both up by pressing his cold lips to Noah’s...

“It’s like walking through falling cotton out there.” Noah returned, shaking the snow off on the tiny entryway. “It’s freezing out too. We’re going to have to be careful tonight to watch the pipes and the generator—make sure nothing freezes.”

I
got some frozen pipes right here.
Adrian snorted at his own joke, which woke Pixel up. He nudged Adrian’s hand.

“Can I borrow your coat? I’ll take the dogs out while you get warmed up.” Oh well. He couldn’t have all of his fantasy, but he could still treat Noah special.

“Sure. I’ll put the water on for tea so it’s ready when you get back, and grab towels for the dogs.”

Adrian’s chest squeezed. This was the sort of couple he’d always wanted to be—an effortless team. However, it sucked that Noah didn’t seem sure what team he played for—or if he even played at all.
No hopeless crushes
,
remember?

* * *

An hour later, after playing in the snow with the dogs and having tea and leftover stew with Noah, Adrian pushed himself up from the booth. “If we’re stuck here, you need to get some work done. I’m going to make myself scarce and stream a video on my phone if I can.”

“I doubt there’s Wi-Fi, and cell phone coverage is going to be crappy out here in this weather. You want to watch a movie on the TV in the bedroom while I work out here? I own some DVDs and I bet we have similar tastes.”

“Yeah? You own gladiator porn too?” Adrian joked just to watch Noah turn pink.

“Sci-fi. I meant sci-fi. Mainstream sci-fi.” Noah’s words were an adorable rapid-fire jumble before he took a breath. “I don’t own any...salacious titles.”

“I do love your vocabulary.” Adrian slapped him on his shoulder on his way to the bedroom. “Translation: you mean you stream your porn or it’s on your e-reader. It’s okay. I get it. I’m cheap too.”

Noah cast a guilty glance at his laptop.
Oh yeah.
Adrian wouldn’t mind an hour alone with Noah’s search history.

Noah dug a battered leather wallet of CDs and DVDs from a bin helpfully labeled Media and Misc Electronics.

“Here you go. The DVD player is already hooked up. Don’t...” Noah trailed off, his tongue coming out to lick at his lips. “I mean, watch your movie, but don’t...” His hands moved restlessly.

Adrian took pity on him. “Don’t go exploring your stuff. I get it. You do know I’ve got
some
restraint, right?”

Noah gave him a skeptical look. His posture, always impeccable, was extra formal now, shoulders stiff and spine straight enough to audition as a radio tower.

“I do
.
”
Look at me
,
not jumping you.
“Get to work. I’ll make you a snack and some more tea in a while.”

“You will?” Noah sounded more stunned than he had at the gladiator porn suggestion.

“Yup. Someone has to take care of you, Professor.”

“Thanks.” A strange light flickered in Noah’s eyes—longing? Discomfort? Whatever it was, it passed before he turned to walk back to the dining area, shutting the door softly behind him.

Adrian raised Noah’s window shades so he could watch the snow fall while he watched the movie, but true to his promise, he didn’t go snooping in Noah’s stuff. The room was teeny tiny—double bed in the center with cabinets behind it and on the walls. The TV was mounted to one of the long, narrow cherrywood cabinets facing the bed. The bed was made, complete with hotel-quality pleats for the pillows and corners. Guilt at invading Noah’s space tickled his spine as he settled against the pillows, rumpling the bedspread despite his best efforts.

Yeah, that was him, the annoying disrupter of Noah’s perfectly ordered world.

* * *

The wind outside howled, whipping the sides of the motor home. Outside his little dining window, snow was coming down in huge pillowy sheets. Another whistle, this one closer, diverted Noah’s attention. Adrian was in his kitchen, grabbing the kettle right as it whistled and pouring it over a fresh tea bag in Noah’s favorite mug.

“You’ve worked three hours with no breaks.” Adrian slid Noah the cup.

“Yeah,” Noah said. The tea was nice and strong, exactly how he liked it. He’d sensed Adrian puttering in the kitchen, but he’d been deep enough into his work that it hadn’t distracted him. That and Adrian was good about not making a pest of himself, not bothering him with endless questions about where he kept things or trying to make small talk while he worked in the kitchen.

“Ready for some food? You had cheese and meat and bread, so I made you a grilled sandwich and used your lettuce to make some wraps for me.”

“Thanks.” Moving some papers out of the way, Noah gratefully accepted the plate.

Instead of sitting across from him, Adrian stepped behind him and peered over his shoulder.

“Trust me, it’s very boring.” Noah laughed. “The audience is other geoarchaeologists interested in Paleo-Indian cultures and how terrain shaped their evolution.”

“You should hear the conversations we get into for
Space Villager
. We’re all about how terrain influences culture. Trust me, we don’t want to get it wrong—we give a rocky planet too many characteristics of a water-rich one, someone will complain.”

“That someone would probably be me. One of your early promo videos didn’t have dirt blowing accurately, given the rest of the landscape—”

“Holy crap! That email was you?”

“Um...”

“Robert—the founder—sent that to everyone in graphics with a big
TRY HARDER
in all caps. We’re aiming for the sort of realism that’s never been done before. We live for emails like yours. You say we can’t replicate sand buildup? We say watch us.” Adrian was all fired up now, and he punctuated his words with his hands landing on Noah’s shoulders.

“What are you—”

“Oh man, I would kill to have my laptop with me. I want to show you what I’ve been working on planet-side for the last few weeks. It’s a mining colony.”

“Yeah?”

Adrian started to fill him in on his project but still hadn’t moved his hands. Or rather, he
was
moving his hands, but not away. Instead he was rubbing and squeezing Noah’s shoulders, big thumbs digging into his tired muscles. The more Adrian talked, the more his hands danced over his back, until Noah could no longer register anything other than Adrian’s pleasant tone—every single brain cell was zeroed in on Adrian’s hands and what they were doing to his overheating muscles.

If there was any doubt remaining about Noah’s orientation, his instantaneous response to Adrian’s touch would have erased all suspicion and replaced it with the irrefutable proof of his aching erection.

When Adrian paused for longer than a breath, Noah realized he was supposed to say something. All he could do was swallow hard.

“So? Does that sound plausible?” Adrian didn’t sound one bit put out at having to repeat the question.
Cocky bastard.

“What are you doing?” Noah didn’t bother with faking a response to Adrian’s question.

“This?” Adrian rubbed harder, palms working over the ache in Noah’s shoulder blades. “It’s called a massage.”

“I know what it’s called. Why are you doing it?”

“Because you need it. You have possibly the worst ergonomics I’ve ever seen here, all scrunched into this tiny booth and bent over your little laptop.”

“Don’t you work all day at a computer?” Noah shook loose of Adrian’s touch so he could actually form a thought. “You probably log more computer hours than me. This much writing is actually a bit of anomaly for me—”

“Ah. You’re more of a fieldwork kind of guy, eh, Indy?”

“Well, that and teaching. And these ergonomics have served me just fine for five years now.”

“I wish I could show you my setup. I’ve got triple monitors and a sit-stand desk. After watching my dad have some bad repetitive stress injuries, I’m a huge ergonomics fan.”

“And this evangelical belief in ergonomics gives you the right to hand out massages to near strangers?”

“Friends.” Adrian sounded wounded. “Friends. And family. I give shoulder rubs to my mom and sisters all the time. You know, if you weren’t on red alert for flirtation all the time, you might enjoy life more.”

“Not all the time. Only with you,” Noah muttered.

“Oh, in that case I’m flattered. Should I continue?” His fingers hovered over Noah’s shoulders.

“Adrian?”

“Yeah?”

“Come eat.” Noah tried to sound extra firm and not like he wouldn’t mind several hours with Adrian’s magical hands all over him.

“Tell me more about the different planets planned for the game,” Noah ordered as Adrian slid in across from him. They talked about the game long after their plates were empty.

“I better let you get back to work,” Adrian said finally, clearing their plates. “I should probably bundle up and take the dogs out anyway.”

Noah looked out the window at the mounds of white snow gleaming under the campground’s streetlights. More flakes rained down in a steady stream from the inky night sky.

“It looks almost too pretty to ruin with footprints,” Noah said.

“What?” Adrian joined him at the window. Much too close, as usual. “That’s perfect snowman snow right there. If it wasn’t a borrowed coat and gloves, I’d totally be running out there, flinging myself around making snow angels and seeing if I could get your crazy dog to chase snowballs. Heck. Screw your gloves. They’ll dry. I’m totally trying that last idea.”

Noah couldn’t help grinning at his enthusiasm. Anyone else would have let disappointment over the delay bring down the whole evening, but not Adrian. “Go for it. The coat can dry next to the heater vent if you feel compelled to roll around like Ulysses. Want hot chocolate when you get back? I’ve got some packets up in the cupboard.”

“I’d love some. Snow isn’t complete without some hot chocolate.” Adrian smiled broadly, revealing twin dimples. “Hey you think I could shower when I get back?”

“Sure. I can probably find some sweats that might fit you.” Visions of Adrian’s bare chest danced in his head, turning his skin molten-chocolate hot. “And a T-shirt,” he added a bit too sharply.

Adrian laughed as if he knew exactly how flustered his bare torso made Noah.

While Adrian took the dogs out, Noah made two mugs of hot chocolate, then found his loosest sweats and a thermal shirt. Even after a decade of biking, he was lean and all the biking in the world wouldn’t give him Adrian’s thick muscles. Adrian’s chest had the sort of definition that only came with some serious gym time. Noah tried to push all thoughts of Adrian and his chest from his brain while he powered through his next chapter.

He definitely was not acutely aware of Adrian’s return, of the little sounds of pleasure he made as he sipped his hot chocolate. And he wasn’t aware of Adrian naked in his shower or of the scent of his shampoo heavy in the air.

No. Not aware at all.

Eventually, though, his work sucked him back in, and he made it through the Chapter and the footnotes. His dissertation adviser had called him “obsessive” about his documentation. It was true. He did like things precise and well-documented, which was why the final stages of this project were taking so long.