Midnight sun

14 | Dylan

I wipe my arm over the sweat on my forehead and look around. The wind rushes through the evergreen trees, and lifts a scent of pine to my nose. Some parts of the forest surrounding my home are untainted by civilization, there is nothing but me and the air around me so I let myself take a long, slow breath soaking in the peace I so desperately needed. I am so small in comparison to all the forests and fields, mountains and lakes. Just a little speck in the vastness of it all. Somehow, that is comforting. My problems seem big to me, but not when you look at all of this.

I swing the axe bringing it down on the chunk of wood, splitting it in two, then drop the axe on the ground. For some time this late afternoon, I have been chopping wood and lining it up in the barn. I try to get some done each week so I would have enough to get me through the winter as the air is getting colder by the day and I needed to stock up. I am hoping to start building the fireplace now that the dining table is almost finished. There was something about a fire when it was cold, the wood crackling, helping drown out the quiet.

I have a routine and it hardly ever changes. I spend my Saturdays and Sundays working on my house. Once Monday arrives, it's back to the construction site. Rinse and repeat, week after week. I work every day except the two Sundays a month I go to see my old man back in Anchorage. All those other days, I like to keep myself busy. Leaves me less time to think, plus I need the money to finish building my house. It's a simple existence. A simple life. Or it was. There's an intruder. One I don't know what to do with.

And even though it appears that nothing really changed in the following days, at the same time everything did. Because from that night at the Smiling Moose bar Noah took every opportunity to flirt with me. It was subtle and he was careful to not make it obvious in front of the others but it was obvious to me. He didn't even have to say the words, his eyes did all the talking.

Something about him being so open and honest about what he wanted did strange things to me. He was unapologetically open about his sexuality. And even though I was never ashamed of who I was, I still had trust issues that had everything to do with my past relationship with a man who was so deep in the closet that he pulled me into it.

I had no idea how to flirt back with him even if I wanted to, I can't think of a time I did that. Men I used to meet at bars were always ready for whatever I suggested, I never had to try and impress them or make them laugh.

I have to stop and rub my suddenly tense neck, reminding myself that liking led to hurt and other places I refused to go again. I've built a wall around me. Sturdy layers of bricks, one after another, year after year. It's safe here, hiding from the world and the people in it. Nobody can hurt you if you won't let them close enough. Avoidance is probably my best option but hell if I felt good about it. Flirting I could repel pretty easily. But friendship is something that I can't turn down. And the only thing more dangerous than my inconvenient attraction to Noah might be liking the guy. Like actually liking him. Damn Noah for being tempting on so many levels.

I still remember the moment at the back of my truck, when I touched him, when he came so, so close. His breath against my lips in a hot, seductive dance, was almost enough to undo me. I could have kissed him then, he was there for the taking. And god, how much I wanted him. And in the bar, he was wearing jeans that hugged his defined legs and ass perfectly. He looked sinful. And the dreams I had about that ass of his. Physically, he got everything that I was attracted to. Noah Summerville is exactly my type. And I did enjoy his teasing, although I'd never admit to it. Yet I couldn't take him up on the offer.

I felt jittery, like I was crawling out of my skin, and I worked my brain to sort out why. The cool air nipped at my arms as I searched the vast forest for answers. Answers to questions like why our conversations went well beyond the line that should've been drawn with us. Noah was here to do a job, not get involved with a local man with relationship issues. And yes, I extended my friendship to him, but it didn't explain why talking to him had felt easy from the start, and why our silences felt even easier. Was that normal? Did that just happen? Did two people meet and click that instantaneously?

I run a hand roughly through my hair pushing it back. My bones are suddenly too heavy for me to hold up, so I shuffle to the house, my bed calling my name.

I needed to eat something before sleeping and luckily I stocked up on some food a couple of days ago when I went to see my old man. I cooked soup, lasagna, pie for him and brought back some for me because I didn't bother with cooking every day after work. After pulling out some leftover lasagna from the fridge and putting it in the microwave I pick up my phone from the kitchen counter and freeze in place when I see a text from Noah. I had all the staff's phone numbers for emergency reasons–I'm guessing he took mine from one of the guys. Why is he texting me?

Hey. I'm sorry but I think I won't be able to come to work tomorrow. I caught a serious cold, think I have a fever too and I'm not sure it's going away until tomorrow. Let me know if I should call HR. Noah

The message is strictly professional and has nothing to do with whatever is happening between us. However, the worry that consumes me is bone-deep. Have I worked him into illness? Has he been pushed to his limits? He is not used to these weather conditions and I was so quick to make him work as hard as any other member of my team, all of them experienced workers who have lived in Alaska for years.

Without realizing, I'm calling his number.

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