Smoke and Sparks-- Prologue Catchup

 

Smoke and Sparks (Book 2 of the Campfire Series)

Couch-surfing is fine for the short term, but what Vaughn really needs is a roommate.

Vaughn’s future was mapped out: Attend college in St. Louis. Become a Physical Therapist. Come out to his ultra-religious family-- after he’s financially stable and probably 40-years-old. But that was before he got caught with the pool-boy. Now he has to make new plans, quickly.

A small-town mechanic from Indiana, Daryl has never met anyone like Vaughn. He’s instantly fascinated by the tall college student in the skinny jeans and open-backed shirt. Vaughn is funny, intelligent—and wears silk underwear. Daryl is instantly smitten.

A temporary job offer moves Daryl to the city and solves Vaughn’s roommate problem. But while their former long-distance friendship has the potential to turn into something more, Vaughn fears he’ll end up heartbroken when Daryl moves back to Indiana. The spark between them glows brighter, but will it be smothered before it has a chance to truly ignite?

July 2016

“Don’t worry, Daryl, it’ll be fine,” my cousin Mike said to me. “Ben won’t care.”
         What was fine, according to Mike, was crashing Ben’s weekend camping-rendezvous with a woman he’d been dating for a few weeks.
          “We’ll do some fishing, drink a few beers, and meet Cherry Honey,” Mike glibly continued.

 What did I know? I was barely 21-years-old. If my older cousin and his friends invited me to tag along, I tagged along. I wasn’t about to question it. 

We’d traveled from our southern Indiana hometown to an Illinois campground to meet Cherry Honey, our other cousin’s mystery lady from St. Louis. I had no clue why the guys at the garage called her that, because I was sure it wasn’t her real name. I was simply looking forward to a weekend without all the hustle and bustle of home-life with my five younger sisters and brothers. Hopefully, in the not too far future, I'd find a place of my own. And someone to share it with.

As it was, I froze when a surprised Ben stepped out of his camper, followed by an auburn-haired man. A very nervous, flushed, auburn-haired man. But who wouldn’t be, when confronted by a dozen strangers gathered at the door, staring, all agog.

“Ben's gay?” was my first thought. “We shouldn’t be here,” was my second. And, “Oh My God! They were totally having sex in there!” was my third thought as I noticed Ben’s disheveled hair and clothing. Huh. I never would have dreamed Cherry was a nickname for a man named Charles. 

I’d kissed a few girls, sat next to them at basketball games, even held their hands. Yet, I’d never felt that spark, that excitement my friends talked about. But watching Ben with his… boyfriend?... well, that was exciting. 

I spent the next hour with my head down, building the fire, toting and carrying, anything and everything Mike asked me to do. But I watched Cherry as I did it. I was fascinated by him. Or maybe it had more to do with the way Ben looked at him. There were passing touches, shy glances, and private smiles as they whispered to each other. It was... amazing.

My entire body tingled and what the heck was that? Curiosity or envy? Cherry was a flame that drew me, and after my fourth beer, I got brave enough to sit next to him as the group settled around the campfire. It was midsummer and hot, and still, we’d built a fire and gathered around as if it was some prehistoric instinct, to keep close in case a sabertooth tiger was stalking us, watching from the darkness.

Or maybe, as humans, we just like to watch the flames and listen to the crackle. Herd instinct sounded better than drunken fascination. Either way, we gathered, we drank, we told stories, and we laughed. And I asked Cherry some really stupid questions. I don’t even know where they came from. And although Cherry seemed amused, I upset Ben. And yes, in retrospect, I went too far when I asked which of the two was the man in their relationship. But I really wanted to know how it all worked.