Page 22 of The Long Way Found

Jack waited for Luke to ask him to stay. Or to look disappointed. Something.

But Luke just smiled that easy smile, as if this were exactly what he'd expected.

Maybe it was.

"I'll text you tomorrow?" Jack offered.

"Sure,” Luke said with no clear emotion. “Yeah."

Jack leaned down and kissed him. He meant it to be quick, but Luke's hand came up to the back of his neck and held him there. The kiss deepened, turning hungry again.

"Go," Luke said softly after pulling away.

Jack stood and grabbed his jacket. At the bedroom door, he paused, looking back.

Luke was watching him, expression unreadable. Composed but slightly guarded.

Jack took that as permission to leave without any drama, as Luke’s way of showing he could shut it off, too. Was this another of Luke’s tactics for Jack to note and file away? He nodded and walked out.

Outside, the crystalline air hit him like a slap. The snow had stopped, and Jack sat in the Jeep for a moment, letting the engine idle and the heater warm up.

He savored the taste of Luke still on his tongue, the smell of the eucalyptus bathroom soap lingering. He could still see Luke’s easy smile, the one that said I'm fine even when maybe he wasn't.

Jack put the Jeep in gear and drove back to the lodge. Tonight had been perfect —simple and clean, exactly what he wanted his first sex with Luke to be. Tomorrow meant a packed agenda.

He went inside and fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted and satisfied, and dreamed of the man he had just left.

CHAPTER 7

LUKE

Luke awoke a few minutes before 5, as usual, stretching slowly with a smile and instantly remembering last night. He lingered in the memory of the intensity and pleasure for a moment before Marley moseyed in and gave him the look.

“Morning, pal,” he said, rising from bed and patting his dog on the head. “Let me pee first, okay?”

He briefly checked his face in the mirror. He wouldn’t shave today, and the puffiness would go down soon enough.

Forty in a few weeks, he thought. Not bad. Why do people get so weird about turning forty?

After he’d fed Marley, he returned to his usual morning routine, which included brief prayer, meditation, and journaling—part of the daily practice that strengthened his sobriety and helped him maintain serenity as much as possible. He listed the day’s many highs—and one low point: Had he briefly tensed when Jack reminded him he was in town temporarily?

He didn’t want to be a drama queen about Jack’s return, even to himself.

Let it go. Don’t pick yourself apart.

It was good. It was hot. It was…what, exactly?

He jotted this in his journal: “Stay present and grateful.” No worrying about the future or the past. No day but today, as his favorite musical, “Rent,” put it.

After coffee and breakfast, he and Marley jogged on the shoulder up to The Ridge. He felt a shock of recognition when he saw Jack’s Jeep drive by toward campus, but Jack was gone so fast that Luke didn’t have time to wave.

JACK

His iPhone alarm woke Jack at 6. He made instant coffee in his room, checked his email and the news, then showered, shaved, and dressed for the day.

He had a light breakfast and another cup of coffee at the lodge’s downstairs restaurant. It was shaping up to be a busy morning, with many folks carrying ski gear down to the entrance, where a shuttle would whisk them off to the lifts 30 minutes away.

He parked in front of the old administration building, handsome and grand in that mountain style, though it was attached to a new glass-and-chrome addition that added nothing to its appearance.