And maybe the orgasms we both had earlier didn’t hurt.
We finished setting up camp and made our way down to the lakeside with some fishing tackle. I’m actually excited that I don’t have to fake the part of not knowing how to fish. My dad is a CPA and was more of a “resort vacationer” than a “let’s go to a place that doesn’t have electricity, running water, or showers.”
So this really is a new experience for me.
We find a place on top of some big boulders along the shore to cast our poles out. Miles puts the worm on my hook, his manly hands grimy with worm guts and mud that he just rubs on his jeans like it’s nothing. Then he wraps those same worm gut fingers around me as he shows me how to cast.
It’s not gross at all.
It’s manly.
It’s sexy.
It’s Miles.
After a while of watching my bobber float, Miles grabs the small cooler from behind his spot and opens it up to grab a beer. He twists the bottle top off and hands it to me.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it from him and putting it to my lips for a drink.
“I figured you were thirsty.” Miles winks and smiles. “All that deep throating.”
I laugh loudly at that. “God! Get over yourself.”
“Never,” he retorts and looks over at me with a wink.
“Am I a better camping buddy than Sam?” I ask with a coy smile.
“Uh, yes. That fucker snores,” he replies seriously. “And uses teeth.”
I laugh again, so hard that tears spring to my eyes. Miles sits back with a smile and watches me regain control of myself.
“Mountain air makes you funny,” I reply.
“I’m just in a good mood,” he replies and reels his pole in to cast it out again a little farther this time. “It’s amazing how much nicer life is with no drama.”
I nod and ponder that thought for a moment. “Do you ever talk to your ex anymore?”
He shakes his head. “Not a word. And that’s good.”
“So you never told me what exactly broke you two up.”
He shrugs like what he’s about to say is no big deal. “She got pregnant with another dude’s kid.” My stunned eyes shoot to Miles, his profile strong and solemn as he looks out at the water showing no signs of emotion.
“That’s awful,” I reply and chew my lip for a minute before asking, “So you two were still together at the time?” Translation: How did you know the baby wasn’t yours?
He shakes his head. “We were on one of our breaks. And the irony of the whole thing is that in the ten years we were together, we never went without condoms. Not once. Then she starts fucking some rich old guy, and suddenly, they have a whoops. You do the math there.”
My brow furrows. “You think she got pregnant on purpose?”
“No,” he replies glumly, picking at a rock. “Yes. I don’t know. Probably. I hate to think of her like that because then I have to wonder what kind of fuckwit I was for staying with someone who turned out to be such a blatant gold digger.”
He sighs heavily and continues, “But it makes sense because Jocelyn always had issues with what I did for a living. She thought being a mechanic was too blue collar of a profession. She wanted me to do something where I made more money.”
“You look like you do just fine to me,” I state firmly, annoyed at this bitch for projecting such superficial bullshit on the man she was supposed to be in love with.
“See? Thank you,” Miles states, tossing a rock into the water. “That’s how I’ve always felt. I want simple things. Family, friends, a home with a view. A place to go to let off steam every once in a while. Everything I really want, I have. Even my house in Jamestown…it needs work, and I knew when I bought it that it was a TLC project. But that works for me. I like making things my own, and the bones of the place are fucking awesome. It’s a great house, and it’s going to be a really great flip if I ever decide to sell. But it still would have never been enough for her.”
“I think people like that will never be satisfied with anything in their life, regardless of the money,” I state, pulling my baseball cap down so it blocks the sun enough for me to see Miles. “Motherhood, friendships, relationships, jobs. If she’s always green-eyed and gawking at what other people have, she’s missing what’s right in front of her.”
“Exactly!” Miles states, looking over at me with sideways glance. “Now I’m just pissed off that I never saw that and wasted the best years of my life with her.”
“Who says they were the best?” I state, feeling a little smarted over that comment. “Look around, Miles. This is a pretty fucking beautiful day.” I pin him with a serious look, and I hope this gets through to him because I mean it one hundred percent. “You want for nothing, and that is an incredible quality in a person.”
His frown turns into a smile. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” I beam with a wink. “And look at you…you’re smoking hot, you have a great job, a house, friends, and a really sexy fuck buddy.”
He laughs loudly at that. “Is that what you’re calling yourself now?”
I shrug and give him a squinty smile. “I guess. It just kind of rolled off the tongue there.”
“I like it,” he replies.
“Me too,” I state, carrying my pole to sit next to him on the rock. I nudge him with my shoulder. “So don’t sweat the past. Focus on the now. Because seriously, right now, I need help. My bobber disappeared several minutes ago, and I don’t know what the fuck that means.”
“Shit! You got a bite!” he exclaims and stands up, dropping his pole and wrapping his arms around me. “You gotta set the hook.” His hands squeeze around mine on the pole, and he pauses to wait for the bobber to disappear again. After a few seconds, it drops under the water, and he yells right in my ear, “Now jerk it back!”
His arms tense around me as I yank the pole back, and the line goes taut. “You got it! Now reel it in,” he says excitedly and pulls away to watch me with a giant smile.
But honest to God, I’m fucking terrified.
What is going to be on the other end of this hook? It feels massive and heavy, and it’s bending my pole way too much. That can’t be good. How strong are these poles? What kinds of fish live in this lake? Not sharks, of course, I’m not that stupid. But what if I’m going to reel in some disgusting swamp creature that’s like a beaver and a bass that fucked during a full moon and created some kind of terrifying swamp thing that eats people like piranha. Oh my God, are there piranha in Colorado? I should have googled!
“I don’t know about this, Miles,” I whine, cranking the handle and reeling the line in inch by nerve-wracking inch.
He grabs the fishing net behind us and shuffles down the boulder to get closer to the water. He looks up and gives me a thumbs up. “You’re doing great! You look so fucking hot!”
“Really?” I smile a little, then frown at how shallow that is to make me happy at this moment. I need to read more literature.
My face contorts when the end of my line pops out of the water at last. “Are you kidding me?”