Told myself not to notice how the sunlight caught in his hair, or how the veins on his forearms stood out as he hand-surfed the wind.

Told myself not to imagine his fingers tangled with mine.

When had I become so bad at listening to myself?

“Holy shit!” Hayes blurted, shattering the relative peace in the car like a puppy on espresso. I hadn’t realized he’d opened his eyes, but now they were wide, darting everywhere, his grin spreading like wildfire. “Do you know where we are?” 

“Um, bum-fuck Missouri?” Hayes slapped my arm. “Hey!” I rubbed at the sting on my bicep.

Hayes winced.

“Sorry, but—Gabe! We’re in the Ozarks! Em and I, and most of the group, were obsessed with the show. Ob. Sessed! We were late to the show; the series had actually ended by the time we all found it, but most of us were in college and focused on other things when it originally ran, but someone suggested we binge the series. After a bunch of us watched the first couple of episodes, we decided to hold a binge watch party and devour it together. It took us a couple months of these parties to get through all four seasons, but—Shit! How did I not think we’d be driving right through? We need to stop at an overlook or something. Can we do Blue Cat? I have to document this!”

I did my best to hold back my exasperation. Apparently I failed because Hayes huffed and crossed his arms, shooting me a glare full of dramatic defiance, daring me to say something.

Challenge accepted. “What are you talking about?” I asked reluctantly.

“Seriously? Ozark? Netflix? Only the most... Are you serious?”

His expression said everything. It was like I had just copped to not knowing about Sesame Street. I absolutely knew about Sesame Street. Admitting defeat, I held out a hand in a half shrug indicating, ‘I’ve got nothing.’

He shook his head and peered through the windshield. “No way! Bingo!” He pointed at a giant brown sign ahead of us, listing BAGNELL DAM designated as a scenic overlook. “Take that exit!”

“Hayes… Really?” My tone was mostly a whine and I wanted to punch myself in the face for it, but… come on!! All I wanted was to get to Branson and… take a shower.

“Yes really!” he insisted. “Emilee would be disappointed if we don’t! Take. That. Exit!” he ordered.

I sighed. “Alright… Alright.”

I put on my blinker even though there was almost a mile until the exit, just to prove to Hayes I was going to comply.

He shook his head as he looked at me. “I can’t believe you’ve not seen that series.”

“Been busy.”

“Even heard of it?”

“Maybe?”

“You have some serious homework, mister! It’s seriously must-see-TV.”

“Okay. I get it. It’s serious.”

His eyes sparkling again, he dives in, once again his verbose self. “The premise is an average family from Chicago gets wrapped up in a drug cartel smuggling and money laundering operation. Jason Bateman, Laura Linney…”

He went on, listing actors and more—even though he’d already caught my attention with the mention of Jason Bateman. But also, just Hayes’s excitement—it was contagious. And if my watching it would make him happy…

Shit. No. What the fuck?

I had nearly had my head on straight and now…?

This guy was getting under my skin.

Not. Okay!!!

“Exit! Exit!” he ordered, pointing to the rapidly approaching offramp, as if I were going to just drive by.

I eased the Mustang into the offramp and followed the arrows to the Ameren Scenic Overlook. The entire time, Hayes telling me about the show, but then stopping so he “didn’t spoil it” for me. Something about a bar called Blue Cat that, from a quick internet search on his phone, was really real and not far, and we should go, and…

I barely had the car stopped at the overlook before Hayes had jumped out of the car, holding up his phone and taking a video I presumed was for more sharing with Emilee’s friends back in Chicago.

Maybe because it was Monday, and late in the day, the overlook was fairly quiet. Just an older couple and a small family taking in the—truthfully—breathtaking scene. Sometimes, having seen so much from the air,  I forgot how beautiful things were here on terra firma.

“Emilee loved the show. She always had so much empathy for every tight spot Wendy and Marty found themselves in—or put themselves in. Well, most of the time. I’m really surprised she didn’t tell you about it.”

“Maybe she did.” I kicked myself for maybe not having listened closely enough. 

“Selfie!” Hayes declared, pulling out his phone. “Wait!” His eyes crinkled with the smile on his face. “Actually, it’s an ussie!”

“A what?”

“An ussie,” he repeated, then waited for recognition on my part. He’d be waiting a long time. I had no idea what he was talking about. “Ted Lasso?” Again, he waited for something to register with me. “Seriously? You’ve not seen Ted Lasso either?”

“Oh. Heard of it. Haven’t seen it.”

“Geezus! Okay, add that one to your homework list. That one’s on AppleTV.” I shrugged and nodded, no real intention to watch either series. I didn’t really do the TV watching thing. “An ussie is a selfie, but with me and someone else. So, just me… a selfie. Me and you… an ussie. Us,” he explained, pulling me into position and angling his camera capturing the scenic view. 

There was that “us” again and I was getting quite irritated at my body’s reaction to the ubiquitous word. As the word ubiquitous echoed in my thoughts, Emilee’s joy of big words came to mind and the corner of my mouth curled up as a silent chuckle worked its way through me.

Another thing that worked its way through me was my body’s reaction to being so close to Hayes; of fitting together so perfectly. The sight of us… us… on his phone’s screen—him angled into me, our chests nearly pressed together… the sight and the closeness somehow lit up every nerve in my torso.

Click! Hayes snapped the photo. “That was a good one,” he said, immediately looking at the photo and flashing his screen at me.

He let me go and stepped back. I felt…

No!

I shouldn’t want to be close to him. I shouldn’t want him. But my body was already writing checks my resolve couldn’t cash.

“Is this going to be a thing?” I asked, my tone more sharp than I wanted it to be.

I had precisely zero selfies, or “ussies”, on my phone. Even my profile pic on the hookup apps wasn’t a selfie. It was a photo of my captain uniform cap. I mean, who doesn’t love a guy in uniform?

Emilee had been the selfie…or I guess “ussie” queen. She snapped one every time we got together.

But the ussie Hayes had just taken… even I had to admit, there was something resembling an actual smile on my face.

Ignoring my question, Hayes turned, leaning on the concrete barrier, and let out a sigh, enamored, as he looked over the massive body of water. “She’d love this sight.” Then he chuckled. “She’d probably get a kick out of us being here together.”

Us… together…

Two little words, harmless on their own—but in the same breath? They sank into my chest like lead. Just as they had when he found that Twain quote in the book he’d about traveling… and “us.”

I clenched my jaw, wishing Hayes would just give his incessant mentions of Emilee a rest. Which was ridiculous—I was the one who agreed to this trip, supposedly to connect with her memory. To say goodbye. And maybe even to find a version of her I’d missed by not being around much these last five or six years.

But Hayes kept forcing her to the surface like she was still here, breathing and laughing beside us—and I didn’t know how to handle that. Not when every memory of Emilee cut deeper than the last. And especially not when Hayes kept catching me off guard in ways I hated. Ways I didn’t want.

Because the longer I was around him, the harder it was to keep batting away the flashes of non-PG 13 thoughts—the curve of his smile, his easy laugh, the fit of his jeans, the way he smelled—masculine and whatever the cologne or soap or whatever he used… the way he said my name.

And when he paired that with a soft look and another damn reference to my dead sister, it short-circuited something in my brain.

Us. Together.

Like we were a unit. A couple. Like he wanted that.

And my stupid brain filled in the blanks with heat and skin and things I had no business imagining. What kind of sick asshole thinks about pinning a guy against the hood of a Mustang when his sister is being woven into every conversation?

I didn’t want to think about Hayes like that. Not here. Not ever.

Especially not while we were doing things for Emilee.

“Gabe,” Hayes said, interrupting my thoughts. “Emilee only ever wanted you to be happy.”

“Can we not talk about my sister?” I asked through a clenched jaw. I would probably need to see my dentist after this trip.

But Hayes didn’t stop. “She didn’t care if you dated Miss, or Mr, California. Or a cactus.”

“A cactus? What the…?” I turned to look at Hayes, wondering if I’d heard him right. And did he say Mr California? Why would he—

Hayes shrugged. “Her words. Not mine.”

I fixed my gaze back out over the massive, peaceful lake, hoping to find some peace within. Did Emilee have an inkling about my sexuality? Did she say something to Hayes? Is that what this trip is really about?

“Do you think you’ll ever settle down?” Hayes asked. 

“Shut the fuck up right now or we’ll get back in the car and head right back to Chicago. Road trip over.”

“I just… There are tons of married pilots, so it can’t be something like that. Did you get… burned?”

“Hayes…” I warned.

“We all get hurt,” he continued as if I hadn’t said anything at all. “Me? More times than I can count. Three times in a row, recently, if I’m honest, but I’m only taking a year off. Em said you haven’t introduced her to anyone you dated. She wasn’t even sure you were dating at all.”

I closed my eyes and tried to tune him out as he prattled on about things he knew nothing about. But his soft, sexy voice continued.

“She once told me to take a break is fine, but not to give up. Maybe you’ve just been… barking up the wrong tree. Picking the wrong… type of girl, I mean.”

His voice was too soft. His gaze, too steady.

And his mouth—God, his mouth. Right there. Open, earnest, too close. Begging to be kissed.

“Please stop talking,” I growled, barely holding on to my sanity.

“Emilee just—” He bumped my shoulder with his. “I’m just saying… you deserve to be loved, that’s all.”

I snapped.  If he wouldn’t shut up, I had no choice but to shut him up. 

In a flash, my hand was behind his neck and my mouth crashed onto his. Every molecule in my body exploded. It had been way too long since I’d been with anyone.

But when Hayes moaned and parted his lips, my tongue slid in—licking, taking, consuming. Intentions of just quieting the man long forgotten.

It was like I’d never drawn a full breath until this moment.  Like I’d finally discovered oxygen. 

And it felt… so natural. So fucking right. Like we’d done this a hundred times before. 

Our bodies already knew the rhythm. The language. The need.

Hayes slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer—tighter. My hips curled instinctively, seeking relief from the ache in my jeans, grinding into Hayes’s hip. Just as I was absolutely keenly aware of Hayes pressing into me.

God, I wanted a wall. A surface. Something I could press him against and devour every inch of him. 

Take him. Make him mine. 

Our tongues danced. Explored. Tasted. 

He tasted like fire and sin and… and like something that could absolutely destroy me.

Coming to my senses, I ripped my mouth from his, my hand unwilling to let go just yet. And while I took in everything from his swollen, wet, and now red lips to his bright blue eyes, I wanted nothing more than to dive back in for more.

What the fuck have I done? We weren’t even a full day into our road trip. We had four and half days and four nights left.

Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! I shouted in my head, yanking my hand back from him.

“We should get a move on. We still have… still have… miles to go.” Suddenly, I couldn’t remember how many miles until our next stop, and that pissed me off. I couldn’t think straight.