Jace pulls out a small orange tub from his side drawer. A faint vanilla smell drifts into the air.

“What is that?”

“This, my friend, is the best lube ever.”

He grins and carefully pulls down his boxers, enough to expose his hard length. I’ve seen him

before when he’s dropped his towel on the way to the shower, but never when he’s hard. He’s not quite

as long as me.

He grabs himself and pumps a few times. I shove my hand under my boxers and grab my cock.

When I look up, he’s watching me with heat and hunger in his eyes. He’s as horny as Bert and Ernie

were. He’s as horny as me—

Scooping up some of the lubricant, he leans over and whispers, “You have nothing to hide, Cooper.

Be confident.”

“My hand down my shorts is not confident enough for you?”

“I’m just saying. You’re cool to be yourself in here. I’m your friend. You can trust me. And I trust

you.”

He drops back against the bed and slicks the lube over his cock, pumping slowly. He stares toward

the ceiling but I want his gaze on me. I stand, yank down my shorts and dip my fingers into the cool

lubricant. I rub some over my length, gasping, and then settle down on the bed next to him. Our

shoulders touch, and his muscles quiver as he works his arm.

I jerk myself a few quick times and settle into the same rhythm as Jace, stopping every third stroke

to thumb the head. I roll my eyes toward him. Look at me!

“Jace?”

“Yeah?” he says breathily.

“Swap cocks?” I let mine go and grab his. He’s rock hard but his skin is silky. He gasps, then firmly

wraps his warm hand around my stiffness. “That confident enough for you?”

I moan as the pad of his thumb moves over the slit at my head.

This feels too good to be really happening. I pump him faster. The lube is slick and—I can’t help it.

I’m not going to last long.

Look at me!

He stiffens, body tensing. He grips me harder. I tense too, and we release with guttural groans and

incomprehensible whispers.

Jace keeps his hand on my groin for a few moments longer, still staring toward the ceiling but with

a contented smile quirking his lips. We let each other go and push up onto our elbows. Our stomachs are

covered in spunk that smells like vanilla. I’ll never think the same about vanilla.

I chuckle at this thought, and that’s when I notice how quiet Jace is. The contented smile is gone

and his expression is impassive. He sits up and rests his elbows against his knees and bites his bottom

lip.

“Regretting the mutual jerk?”

“No,” he says, simply. “I’m really not.”

He sighs and grabs a warm washcloth for us. When we’re all tucked back into our boxers, he looks

at me and shrugs. “You heading back in there for another go with the boys?”

I’m not expecting this question, and it feels crass. But why should it?

Because it was more than a jerkoff for me.

“That was enough confidence for one night.”

amber

I raid the liquor cabinet.

Dad and Lila are in bed but I’m not ready to do the same. Not yet, dammit. I’m sixteen, just

finished mock exams . . . I’m going to stay up until midnight at least!

Jace too.

“What are you doing?” he hisses when I procure a quarter-bottle of whiskey.

“Grab two glasses and let’s go to our balcony.”

We sit against the semi-warm wall of the house, whiskey bottle resting between us, gripping our

glasses and watching the last pink streaks fade from the night sky. The amber alcohol burns as it slips

down my throat—it’s how I imagine liquid amber should taste: like smoked wood and honey. It warms

my belly and my veins.

I’m too sensible to take more than one decent slosh, and the fact is a little depressing. I never do

anything crazy or wild. I’m a straight-A student who’s never cut a day of school in his life. A guy whose

only questionable behavior is hanging around Ernie and Bert and their filthy mouths. And mutually

jacking off with a straight guy who is a few vows away from being my stepbrother.

Okay, so maybe I’m a little crazy.

I accidentally slosh whiskey over myself when I catch Jace looking at me.

“Boo,” he says belatedly.

“Dickweed,” I murmur.

He raises a brow. “Really, Cooper. And here I thought you were growing up.”

I’m tipsy. I feel the giggle before it comes out. “I want to do something wild. Do something.”

“Stealing Dad’s whiskey isn’t enough?”

“It’s a start. But I want something to exhilarate me.”

“Being with me isn’t enough?”

An awkward beat passes. At least, I find it awkward because I think Jace knows how good I feel

when we are close.

He’s smiling at me, eyes twinkling.

It’s a joke!

I laugh and quickly stand. “Let’s go for a walk to the cave.”

We duck in to see the glowworms but I’m too restless to be here long and I don’t want to disturb

them. I pull Jace out and drag him further up the creek. Walking in the bush at night lends a mysterious

feel to the already eerie air.

We’ve probably walked the length of our street and are close to the local park. We stop at a pool in

the river. Not the playground kind but the large-expanse-of-field-and-trees-and-river kind. It’s quiet.

Empty. A warm wind pushes us over the pebbly bank to the water.

On the other side of the river, a large rock face looms. A long rope hangs from a tree at the top of it.

Jace bends over and for a moment I think he’s checking out our reflections, but he pulls at his laces

and toes off his shoes. “You want exhilarating?” He grabs my laces too. “Then strip. We’re going for a

swim.”

I laugh. “You can’t be serious. It’s cold in there. And dark. And what about eels?”

“Nothing will harm you.” He peels off his shirt and throws it with his shoes behind him.

Moonlight touches his chest. A breeze pebbles his skin, making him appear wet though he’s not

finished undressing. The greenstone hook stands out against his lighter skin. I want to step closer, touch

it—

Jace unbuttons his jeans and slides his thumbs under the waistband. He doesn’t look at me as he

pulls down his pants and boxer-briefs in one fell swoop. They pool at his feet and he steps out of them.

He dips his foot into the river but I’m not watching his toes ripple the surface of the water, or the

way his calf muscles flex, or even his fine soccer-trained thighs. I’m riveted to his ass and the curve of

his cock, hanging from under a small patch of dark hair. The cock I’d had in my hand; the one I’d

pumped to release. “Yep. Cold, all right.”

I jerk my head away. The whiskey must be working its magic on me because I’m stripping too.

Jace wades into the water, hissing at the cold. When he’s waist deep he looks back at me. I’m naked

and sinking into the pebbles as I step into the water. It’s cold but I’m almost oblivious to that jolt

because I’m experiencing a bigger one.

Jace is still watching me. His gaze zips the length of my body. He smiles and leans back against the

surface. “Didn’t think you’d do it.”

I push into the deep part of the river, where the cool waters cloak my waist. “You don’t think much

of me, do you?”

I wonder if he knows I’m quoting him from that first Halloween. Wonder if he remembers it as

vividly as I do.

Jace smiles and submerges.

He’s hard to see under the water. Movement stirs at my side and something brushes lightly over my

thigh. When Jace comes up again, he’s behind me. Water stirs against my back and Jace draws in air. At

my neck, I feel his words. They’re cheeky at first but the twinge in his voice mellows. “I think plenty of

you, Cooper.”

I turn.

Water drips from his hair onto his nose and runs over the tip. We’re standing close and the air