“Chasing fires all over the West hardly counts as around,” Jacob scoffed. “No cities. No smartphones. No friends beyond your hotshot crew guys.”
“Hey now.” Linc might be something of a loner, but he had friends. Might all be local or seasonal acquaintances elsewhere, but he wasn’t the cranky hermit Jacob was trying to make him out to be.
“I’m just saying, you don’t even make it up to Portland much.”
“No need. Anyway, these...friends of yours, they pressured you into coming out?”
“No one pressured me.” Jacob sounded outraged that Linc would even think he could be swayed like that. And there was the backbone Linc admired so much—strength, not just in his slim, fighting-honed body, but in his character. “It was in the back of my head though, all day. And then at dinner, Wyatt started in again on why I left Vegas, saying I couldn’t hack it in MMA, even as Tyler’s sidekick. And I’d just had enough. Enough of the pretending. Enough of the lies and not a damn person around here knowing the truth. I was just so fucking tired of his bullshit.”
“I hear you.” And Linc did, heard his pain and loneliness loud and clear. He knew something of that isolation, and while maybe he wouldn’t choose Jacob’s way out, he got the desperation that had driven his outburst. “And that was a brave thing you did, standing up to him. Telling everyone.”
“I’m not looking for a head pat here.”
“And I’m not handing them out.” Linc could meet his irritation head-on.
“Wouldn’t turn down a beer though. Fuck. That was intense.”
“Another year and a half, I’ll buy you one.”
Nineteen, he reminded himself. He’s nine-fucking-teen. Even if Wyatt hadn’t warned him off, he needed to remember that the kid couldn’t even buy a drink yet. And thank the fuck that Linc had thrown out every last drop of alcohol in this place, first week back.
“Like you and Wyatt weren’t drinking every chance you got, even in high school.”
“Wyatt maybe,” he allowed, stretching, trying to do something with the tension that kept gathering in his lower back, just from being here.
“Oh, right. I forgot. You’re...like his guardian angel or something. Don’t you ever get tired, being his designated driver? Cleaning up his messes?”
“Nope,” he lied, far too easily. “He’s my best friend. It’s what friends do, take care of each other.”
“I don’t see him exactly returning the favor.” Jacob flicked some stray leaf off the railing, narrowly missing Linc.
“You wouldn’t know,” he said testily, reminding both of them that he and Wyatt had a long history that Jacob had nothing to do with. “That man’s done more for me than I can ever repay.”
Jacob made a scoffing noise. “Maybe so, but you wouldn’t know it from how he treats you sometimes. So, what’s the deal? Can’t believe Wyatt even told you about last night. He tell you to try to talk sense into me?”
“Fuck no.”
“Oh?” Jacob’s tone softened and he scooted closer.
Danger. Danger. All Linc’s proximity sensors pinged, brain squawking like a comm set when a fire wall shifted, coming straight at him. “I brought it up to make sure you were okay. That’s all. Thought maybe you’d need to hear that your folks will come around. Give them time.”
“Yeah.” Jacob’s sigh held a certain amount of wistfulness to it, which did something to Linc’s insides, made him want to be stupid and take his hand or something else ridiculous.
“And for the record, I’m sorry about that Tyler kid. He’s a fucking idiot, but you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Leaning forward, he rested a hand on Linc’s shoulder. “Totally and completely fine.”
“Good.” He didn’t make a move to stand, couldn’t, not with Jacob’s warm hand pressing him down, dangerous sparks shooting all down his torso.
“But maybe I should make myself scarce for a few days, let everyone calm the fuck down. You wouldn’t happen to know of somewhere with a spare bed now, would you?” His tone was light, but there was no mistaking his meaning.
“You’re not staying here.” Even if Wyatt wouldn’t flay him alive, that idea was all kinds of trouble.
“No beer. No place to crash. You’re no fun.”
“Nope.”
“I could be, though. Fun. The sort of fun you need. And you know it.” Jacob’s voice had all the brashness of nineteen to it, reckless confidence. “Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it, ever since I started helping you here. I’ve seen you looking at me.”
Fuck. All those danger warnings shrieked again as the car carrying his sanity went over the cliff. He worked with any number of good-looking guys, had played four years of high school sports, had been around locker rooms almost two decades at this point, and it was going to be Jacob who called him on sneaking looks? And the worst, the absolute worst, was that he wasn’t wrong. Linc had looked. And that Jacob noticed said he was either getting sloppy now that he’d hit thirty or that there was something about Jacob...