Marc has been beside me from the beginning. The wanting came later.
Business partner. Original financier. The man in the suit who held the line when Malcolm died and I couldn’t. He gave me Arete when I had nowhere else to put the grief.
Somewhere in the years that followed, I stopped knowing how to do a day without him. He knew Malcolm before I did. College, before any of us were who we are now. He’s never made that strange.
He’s never made it anything. Then a pre-season party. Too much to drink. A door that should have stayed closed. Now I know. He’s wanted me longer than he’ll say.
I’ve wanted him longer than I’ll admit. We’ve got time, history, and the rest of the summer before the season buries us. It should be easy. His son arrives the week after.
Eighteen, restless, and sharper than either of us expected. Here for reasons of his own, and watching more closely than he should. I keep my hands off Marc in front of him.
I keep my mouth shut about what we are. I tell myself we have time to figure this out before anyone has to know. Then we go up the mountain, and the quiet I’d been keeping doesn’t hold.
