The Wingman by A. Poland

Chapter Eight

Or stumbling straight into it, in Nathan’s case.

Catching his foot on a snag in the tent ruined any attempt to escape discreetly, and Nathan grunted when his face hit the dirt. He immediately felt a gentle hand on his arm as Miles tried to help him up.

“Why—”

Miles held a long finger up to his lips again, softly shushing Nathan.

Nathan would have to deal with wondering why they were being so quiet because he certainly wasn’t going to find out from Miles. In this close proximity, with the dim light of his phone, Nathan could just about see the details of Miles’s eyes. The stormy gray that melted into a soft brown close to the pupil. Huh. He could see why Lorcan had waxed on about them for the best part of twenty minutes. Nathan didn’t think he’d ever seen eyes like them before.

Once Nathan found his footing in the dark, Miles gently pulled him by the wrist over to where he’d been standing.

Brows furrowed in silent question, Nathan followed. Miles pointed out in front of him, and Nathan squinted in the same direction.

What the hell was he––

Nathan’s mouth made the perfect formation of an O the moment he spotted what Miles was gesturing to. Right there, right by the fringe of trees, was some kind of small animal.

Nathan made a choked-off noise at the back of his throat.

A small animal with even tinier animals on its back.

It was difficult to tell exactly what it was in the dark, but Nathan knew one thing for certain. This creature was cute as hell.

Granted, if he’d happened upon it by himself, he’d have been terrified.

Wait, was that why Miles was showing it to him? Because this little thing, with eight equally tiny little things perched on its back, was a threat? Was Nathan about to be eaten by a tiny rat-creature? He paled at the thought.

“Is it…” Nathan trailed off, not exactly sure how to finish that sentence. Was it dangerous? Was it going to kill him? It was about the size of Nathan’s foot, and he didn’t want to prove himself the wuss he’d absolutely acted like earlier that day, so he said nothing of the sort.

“Opossums,” Miles informed him, voice barely above a whisper, his pale eyes never leaving the animal. “Very docile. Just don’t make them feel threatened.”

Right. Because Nathan had every intention of advancing toward them intimidatingly.

Then again, it wasn’t difficult to tell that Nathan was on edge, frozen to the spot with his hand clasped around Miles’s wrist.

When had he started doing that?

Nathan nodded slowly, looking between Miles and the opossum family that seemed to be staring straight back at them with beady little eyes. They watched the opossums until the biggest one, who was being used as a shuttle bus for the babies, decided it was best to clear off and scuttled back into the thick of the forest.

“Holy shit,” Nathan breathed, only then realizing he had been trying to hold his breath the entire time in case he scared them off.

“Right?” Miles responded, a broad grin on his face. The biggest grin Nathan had ever seen since meeting him, come to think of it. To Nathan, Miles had always either looked deep in thought or only slightly amused, with the barest hint of a smile ghosting over his lips.

But this smile? This smile had teeth.

“I don’t think I can sleep after that,” Nathan admitted a little shakily, even though he knew that getting sleep before all of this had been extremely unlikely.

“Same here,” Miles sighed, still looking to where the opossums had disappeared. “We’re going to feel it tomorrow.”

Miles straightened his back from the crouched position he’d held the last few minutes, stretching out with a contented sigh.

“Want to go for a walk?” he asked then, and Nathan could only stare at him—wide-eyed.

Did Nathan want to go for a walk?

In the woods, in the middle of the night, with a guy he barely knew?

“Sure.”

They strolled side by side away from the camp, toward the line of trees that had been so daunting during the day and now just seemed otherworldly.

Nathan couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure we’ll be able to find our way back?”

Miles had brought a flashlight with him, but Nathan had a sneaking suspicion it was more for his benefit, considering he shone it along where Nathan took his next step.

“Sure,” Miles replied, nonplussed, as he glanced absently to the sky. “Just follow the stars.”

Nathan blinked at Miles owlishly. Miles could read the stars.

Of course he could; who was Nathan kidding? He cooked, he sang, he had tattoos, he could read the stars.

What couldn’t this guy do?

“Right. Of course,” Nathan murmured as though it was a completely obvious thing to do and had just slipped his mind for a moment. Where did you even learn to do that? Was there a course in star reading?

“How are you finding the trip?” Miles asked as they walked, stepping on top of any branches in their way so they wouldn’t trip over them.

“Do you want the honest answer or the polite one?”

Miles’s lips twitched at the corners, threatening a smile. “I always appreciate honesty.”

“I would rather walk over hot coal than do this.”

Hey, he’d picked the honesty route, and Nathan wasn’t about to deprive the guy of that.

“I promise I’m not always this grumpy,” Nathan added with a small laugh. He realized Miles had nothing but a negative impression of him so far. “Apparently camping brings out the worst in me.”

“If this is the worst, I think you’re in a good place,” Miles assured him, then paused before asking, “So why did you agree to come if this isn’t your kind of thing?”

Oof.

How was Nathan meant to answer that one? Miles had selected the honesty option from the drop-down menu, but it wasn’t as though Nathan was going to burst out with I’m here because my best friend is an awkward flirter, and I’m trying to get you to bang him.

Or:

I’m actually trying my best to be the biggest cockblock between you and Lorcan, so if you wouldn’t mind helping me out with that…

No. Neither of those would go down well.

So Nathan just shrugged, trying to think of a better response than coming up with some lie that could come around to bite him in the ass.

“Lorcan wanted me to come.”

“Oh.” Miles hummed, not pressing Nathan further—which he took as a win. “So, what do you like to do, if it isn’t this?”

“I’m kind of boring,” Nathan admitted with a huff of a laugh. “Lorcan is the exciting one of the two of us. He told you about his basketball scholarship, right?”

Talking about Lorcan was instinctive at this stage. And despite Nathan’s goal of driving a wedge between the two of them, it was difficult not to fall back into old habits.

Maybe he should try telling Miles about the time Lorcan had gotten diarrhea in the cinema right at the climax of the last Star Wars movie. It had been such poor timing that Nathan hadn’t noticed him flee the scene, eyes glued to screen and fist full of popcorn.

“I get that,” Miles said, one hand in his pocket and the other securely clasped around the flash, lighting their way forward. “My sisters are all really interesting and accomplished. Sometimes it’s hard not to feel like a bland-looking succulent in a room full of roses.”

Nathan wasn’t exactly a plant connoisseur, but it was impossible not to catch his meaning. That Miles (Juilliard, cool-guy Miles) thought he was boring.

His sisters must be out of this world.

Nathan didn’t have the opportunity to focus on that tidbit of information as Miles swiftly moved on to his next question.

“Still, if you weren’t camping right now, what would you be doing?”

“I’d be in the safety of my own bed,” Nathan replied with a pointed look that made Miles smile. Then, he put some serious thought into the question. What would he be doing? It was midnight on a Friday night; he had no plans the next day—what was his plan of action? “I’d probably be watching a documentary.”

“Oh yeah?” Miles piped up.

“Yeah,” Nathan nodded, encouraged by Miles’s interest. “I’m all about documentaries. Lost civilizations, animals, natural disasters, civil rights movements… There isn’t a documentary out there that I won’t watch.”

Well, that was a lie. Nathan briefly remembered the Scientology documentary he’d stumbled across in the depths of the internet that came across as more of a recruitment video. He’d turned that one off pretty quickly.

“Lorcan isn’t into them much.” Nathan rolled his shoulders in way of a shrug. “So that’s my solo thing if he has other plans.”

“I wish I watched more documentaries,” Miles admitted, breezing over the comment about Lorcan. “You should send me a few, broaden my scope.”

“Eh, sure.” Nathan was caught off guard. It wasn’t often that someone asked him for documentary recommendations of all things. “I can send on some.”

Miles smiled, and for some reason, that rubbed Nathan the wrong way. He was acting so polite, pretending to be interested—for what? What could he possibly gain from buttering Nathan up?

“Try to sell me on camping,” Nathan said then, rubbing his hands together, eager not to fall into a silence that would open him up to hearing any potential rustles from the forest surrounding them. “Lorcan has tried for years, but he hasn’t been successful. So I hereby issue the challenge to you. What’s the big appeal?”

Miles pursed his lips together for a moment in thought.

“Things like what we saw—the opossum family,” he eventually uttered, voice soft. “Everything is untouched out here. Peaceful. Gives you space to think.”

Oh.

That was certainly different from Lorcan craving the adrenaline he associated with exploring.

“So…like an escape thing?” Nathan ventured.

“Yeah.” Miles nodded, glancing at Nathan, seemingly pleased he understood what he’d been trying to convey. “Like an escape thing.”

“Don’t musicians usually find that in their music?” Nathan countered with a steady look, wondering if his whole understanding of why people enjoyed playing music was about to crumble.

“I… Yeah. I guess they do,” Miles considered, glancing down to the ground. “It never feels like I’m playing for myself though. The songs feel like they’re for other people to listen to.”

Nathan inwardly froze in fear that Miles was about to dive into a tangent about the meaning behind his lyrics. Nathan wasn’t sure he could handle that, especially not after the exhausting day behind them. Catch him at a time when he was fully rested, then Nathan could at least pretend he was interested in hearing about that.

But Miles didn’t say anything else, and Nathan could breathe again.

“So why do you play?” Nathan asked anyway.

Shrugging his broad shoulders, Miles hummed and said, “People seem to enjoy it.”

“A bit of a people pleaser then.”

The words came to the surface before Nathan had the chance to school his thoughts and shut his mouth. Sure, he might not be a fan of the guy based on principles alone, but he didn’t want to outrightly offend him.

Yet Miles didn’t look offended. Instead, he chuckled. “Jordie would call it being a pushover, but pretty much.” He glanced at Nathan then, the corners of his mouth softly quirked upward. “Kind of like you with Lorcan.”

“Oh, no.” Nathan was immediately on the defense, brows furrowed. “That’s different. Lorcan would do anything for me too.”

Nathan had no doubt about that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that,” Miles assured him. “I just…you guys are close. That’s all I meant.”

Dammit. Now Nathan felt like a dick. He took a breath and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched.

“We are,” he agreed with a curt nod.

A few moments later, Nathan spoke again. “We should go back.”

And leave this conversation before he came across as any more of an asshole. But he kept that hidden reason to himself.

“Sure, yeah.” Miles nodded. He turned on his heel and led Nathan back to the camp, his eyes flicking up to the sky every couple of moments.

Huh.

He really could read the stars.