Tastes Like Sugar (Collier’s Creek Christmas)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

HAYES

Heat wraps around my cock as I sink into Sully’s ass. “Fuck, you feel amazing,” I praise.

His eyes spring open, and he clamps his teeth onto his bottom lip. Like this, flushed, pupils blown, and barely coherent, the man before me is beyond sexy.

I wasn’t lying earlier. Wasn’t paying lip service to get him to open for me.

The little I know about Sully—the quiet confidence, the flicker of question he can’t always keep from his gaze, and the softness of his warm flesh—does it for me. Big time. That, and we’ve laughed.

Jesus, when’s the last time I laughed and had legit fun when hooking up?

It’s a bit of a mind fuck.

I grunt as I press fully into him.

A mind fuck, definitely, but fucking into him…. Yeah, he feels perfect.

I drag my hips back, diving into his warmth once again, which earns me a moan. He lifts his hips, meeting me on my next drive into him, and reaches out for me, tugging me down before pressing his lips to mine.

His kisses are demanding, completely at odds with the sliver of uncertainty that I spotted previously. But none of that matters. Not right now.

All I want to focus on are his possessive kisses and the way he feels as I plunge into him.

The next push back in earns me another grunt. We break our kiss, and I peer down at him. I can see the flecks of the hazel in his eyes.

It’s intense, being so close to his face, feeling the gentle warmth of his breaths on my skin, but I don’t pull away. That’s the last thing I want.

His moans grow louder with each thrust, his body arching to meet mine, his hands clutching at my shoulders. Tension builds low in my spine, a coiled spring ready to snap. Each movement, each stroke, brings us closer to the edge, our breaths mingling, our bodies moving seamlessly, as though we’ve perfected the art of fucking from years of practice, not minutes.

I can barely hold back, the pleasure mounting to an almost unbearable peak. Sully’s fingers dig into my skin as he gasps, “Don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t,” I promise, my voice rough.

Driven by the need to feel him come around me and see him lose control, I pick up the speed, sweat clinging to my skin and glistening on his as he fucks against me.

“Fuck your hand.” I’m too close to the edge and need him there with me.

Inching back so he can get access, I grunt when he wraps his palm around his cock, his whole body constricting and holding my dick in a choke hold. His hand stutters as he bows his back. I cling to his shoulders, focusing on his garbled pleas and the way his muscles tighten around me.

It’s all too much.

Too much heat, too much blissful friction—so much so that my hips jerk as my balls tighten and I release inside him with a loud “Fuck” and a deep moan.

I’m still moving, urging him to release, as the first splash of his cum hits my stomach. I groan and lift myself up on my hands so I can see, still balls deep inside him.

Wide-eyed as he watches me, his lips part. I smile before my gaze is glued to his cock and the second spurt that lands on his stomach, dripping into his belly button.

“That’s so hot,” I say, my voice raspy.

Sully shudders, a final release spilling out of him and dripping over his hand.

He’s done. Blissed-out and completely spent.

So am I, but I can’t skip out on a taste.

“Give me your hand.”

A slow, lazy smirk forms and he aims it my way. He knows exactly what I want from him. I follow his movement as he drags his cum-covered fingers through his release and lifts his hand for me, straight into my open mouth.

I latch on, sucking them clean.

“Jesus.” His eyes flare. “Kiss me.”

Fuck yes.

After one more suck of his fingers, I release them with a pop before latching my mouth to his and sliding our tongues together as I press my weight on top of him, taking the kiss deeper.

It’s slow, but with the tongue fucking going on, I’m practically deep enough to lick inside him and taste my own cum. Humor bubbles inside my chest at the thought.

At my smile, he pulls away. I angle myself so I can see his face and ask, “You doing okay there?”

“I seriously am,” he answers, somewhat breathlessly.

Sully searches my gaze. I have nothing to hide. Hell, I know I’m as easy to read as a book. Like a super-simple fourth-grade book. Or so I’ve been told.

Seeming satisfied with whatever he reads in my expression, he smiles back, fidgets a little, and winces.

“You need me to pull out?” I dance my fingers over his cheekbone. They’re defined, not quite chiseled, but set high. Sully really is a handsome guy. And the salt-and-pepper hair is ridiculously attractive. It suits him. Makes him look, I don’t know, distinguished or something.

He’s not far from a silver fox.

“Reluctantly, yes.”

I like his answer. “Agreed. My dick likes being inside you.”

He chuckles but cuts it off quickly and cringes. “That may be so, but honestly, it’s been a long time since I’ve… you know….”

I grin. “You’re getting shy now?”

He rolls his eyes at me, pink coloring his cheeks, but his smile is big. “Since I got fucked so?—”

“Epically. Good and proper. So good, you’re going to feel me for days…?”

He clamps his lips together, fighting laughter. I get it, since the last time he laughed, it strangled my cock and made him sore.

It really is time to pull out and clean up.

I do so as carefully as I can. “You okay?” Sitting on my knees between his legs, I peer down at him, trying to get a good read on him.

“So much better than okay.”

In that case…. I drop beside him and snuggle up to his side. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. Instead, Sully turns to face me, still wearing a content smile.

“You want to shower and get a donut?”

“A donut?” His lips twitch.

“I bought some fresh today. Figure we need a sugar kick after expending all that energy so fabulously.”

“Fabulously, huh?”

“You know it.” I smack a kiss on his lips. I have no issues with post-sex cuddles or chats or sugar sharing. What is rare is that I want to with someone I just met.

I hook up as much as I want to, which takes some careful planning with the nature of my work shifts. It also usually means heading out of town. While Collier’s Creek has a booming queer community, what it doesn’t have is a giant collection of single men who I consider more than a friend.

I haven’t had a friends-with-benefits relationship that didn’t end in disaster, and since being back in my hometown for five years, the last thing I want is to make things awkward.

But Sully, he’s not a local, which is awesome. And if he does stick around…. I let that thought trail off, trying not to examine too closely the flurry of excitement in my chest nor the way my stomach flips over.

We don’t know each other. That doesn’t mean I’m not interested in getting to know him better.

“You said something about a shower?”

His question tugs me out of my thoughts, and from the loss of his smile, I apparently got a little caught up in my reaction. I do that, though—go on a tangent. At least I kept all my thoughts to myself this time.

“A shower? Absolutely. It’s the one room that’s completely finished. It’s big enough for two.” I bounce my brows up and down like a goober.

“Is that you saying you’d like to join me?”

“I don’t have to if?—”

“No, I’m happy to share. Water conservation and all that.” A fresh glow of pink shines in his cheeks. “It’s just—” He clears his throat.

“It’s just what?”

“Jesus, I can’t believe I’m saying this aloud, and to you of all people.”

Confusion slams into me. “Me of all people? Meaning?”

“You know.” He gestures in my general direction before continuing, “You. You’re what, twenty…?”

“Thirty-one,” I answer and arch my brow. A smirk plays on my lips. Obviously Sully’s older than me. I’ve hooked up with a few guys who have had a good ten years on me. Age is just a number, right?

“You’re thirty-one?”

“That’s what my birth certificate tells me.”

His muscles relax a little. “Okay, but still, you’re a thirty-one-year-old Adonis.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I’ve heard it, but I have no idea what that really means. Who or what is an Adonis?” I’m not even being obnoxious, which my mom’s told me I can be. Just because I’ve heard the phrase doesn’t mean I understand its meaning.

It’s so damn easy to miss the point and not read between the lines, so I learned when I was still at school to keep asking questions until someone explained something to me in a way that I understood. I don’t give a shit if that’s once or fifty times. Nor do I care about anyone’s opinions.

He closes his lips as he studies me. I wait, hoping I haven’t misread Sully.

If he turns out to be a patronizing?—

“Well, Adonis was this guy from Greek mythology,” Sully starts, a grin spreading across his face. “He was supposed to be super good-looking, like the ultimate sex god. The kind of guy who could stop traffic just by walking down the street. So, when I say you’re an Adonis, I mean you’re ridiculously handsome. Like, you’re the kind of guy people can’t help but notice.”

Warmth spreads through my chest, and I chuckle. “So, you’re saying I’m mythically good-looking, huh?”

“Exactly.” Sully nods, his eyes twinkling. “Basically, if you were walking around ancient Greece, all the gods and goddesses would be like, ‘Damn, look at that guy!’”

I laugh outright, the sound filling the room. “Wow, that’s quite the compliment.”

Sully shrugs, but his smile is genuine. “Just calling it like I see it.”

I shake my head, still smiling. “Well, thanks, I guess. I’ll try not to let it go to my head.” I sober. “Hold on. If I’m an Adonis, what are you? What was with the whole hand gesture?” I mimic how he pointed back and forth between us.

The pink in his cheeks blooms to a bright red. “We can just forget I said anything and agree you’re an Adonis.”

“Well, we can, but if something’s on your mind, I’d prefer to know.” I shrug. “I’m a pretty open-minded person.”

He studies me in silence before saying, “I can see that.”

“So?” I prompt, aiming for gentleness. I don’t want to push him and scare him off.

“I’m forty-seven.”

I shrug and stare at him. He’s hot and we had incredible sex. His age doesn’t mean shit to me. It seems like he expects an answer. “Okay?”

“Twice in a whole twenty-four-hour period, let alone a few hours, is not as….” He hesitates. “Feasible as it was when I was your age.”

It takes me a few seconds to catch up and figure out what he’s telling me. While I hate his embarrassment, I appreciate his honesty. I soften my smile and brush my fingers over his arm. Goose bumps spring up as I trace along his skin. “So you don’t think you can get it up again tonight is what you’re saying?”

Sully’s eyes widen before he snorts out a laugh and drops his head to my chest. His shoulders shake as his chuckles continue.

The sound is contagious. Happy.

Wanting a slice of his sweetness, I wrap my arm around him and shuffle close, dotting a kiss to his head and grinning.

“You’ve got quite a way with words,” he says between his laughter.

“Thanks. It’s a gift.”

He looks up, beaming at me, gaze searching mine.

“I’m happy to wash you down. Let you do the same. Maybe kiss a little or a lot.” In truth, I’d like nothing more.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” My heart stutters in my chest.

“Yeah.”

I kiss him before jumping out of bed and heading into the bathroom to turn on the shower. It takes barely any time to heat, thanks to my awesome new hot-water system.

I’m just about to call Sully when he appears in the bathroom, glancing around the recently tiled space.

“You weren’t kidding. You’ve done a great job.”

I beam at him. “I can’t take all the credit. A few guys at the station helped me. Plus my cousin’s a plumber. She’s also kinda awesome at tiling, so she spent some time teaching me and the crew how to do it right.”

I stop talking, staring expectantly at Sully, wondering why his ass isn’t in the shower already. He’s naked, still covered in cum. He looks fucking delectable.

I like that his body’s not the same as mine. Like it so much, in fact, my dick twinges. But when I can think with my top head enough and peer at his face, I realize something’s changed.

“What’s wrong?”

He looks like he’s sucked a lemon. He swallows deeply before clearing his throat. “Station? Do you work at the sheriff’s office?”

I chuckle. “Not a chance Sheriff Morgan could deal with me on a daily basis. He’s threatened to arrest me more times than I can count.” Shit. That makes it sound like I’m an almost criminal or something. “Not for anything serious. Usually because he thinks I’m a pain in his ass and ask too many questions. Though, there was also the time when I was still in high school and spiked the eggnog at the Christmas Bash. I don’t think he quite forgave me for that.”

Obviously, I spend a fair amount of time with Sheriff Morgan professionally, but unfortunately on the not-so-pleasant callouts. Those times, I know he sees a very different version of me.

“So, you’re a firefighter?”

“Yeah. Became a probie right out of high school.”

His shoulders sag, a tight smile forming.

I’ve heard about this. Sure, a lot of people think firefighters are hot—there’s the whole uniform fetish. But some people want to stay far away, sure that firefighters don’t make the best dating material.

Since this is a hookup, maybe the beginning of many or maybe this will be the only one, I don’t see why my profession should be a problem.

“What’s with the frown? You look like someone kicked your puppy. I swear, I think puppies are the cutest.”

That gets a hint of a smile from Sully.

I latch on to the win and step away from the shower and into his space.

“You know,” I say, tangling my fingers with his and brushing kisses along his neck. I really don’t want the night to end just yet. “I’ve rescued a puppy before, made sure no harm came to its cute head. I wasn’t even in uniform.”

Sully angles his neck to give me better access, and I internally do a fist pump. At his soft sigh, I smile. When he places his hand on my waist, I want to cheer. Instead, I ease away and slowly walk backward, leading him into the steaming shower.

“Most people think that’s adorable.”

The spray hits our bodies. I draw him closer, wrapping both of my arms around him.

“Is that right?”

“Uh-huh.” I dot a kiss to his lips, and his eyelids flutter closed. “What about you?”

“What, do I think it’s adorable or you’re adorable?” He smiles back.

“Either. Both.”

A soft sigh passes through his slightly parted lips. “I’m not sure anyone who’s adorable could rail me quite as well as you did.”

Loud laughter bursts free from me. “Is that right?” I return to kissing his neck while Sully brushes his fingers across the wet skin of my back.

“I think so. It’s probably written in a rule book somewhere.”

“Probably.” I don’t stop kissing him, enjoying his soft sighs. It’s Sully who squirts shower gel into his palm, making slow work of washing me down until my cock is throbbing.

“When’s your next shift?” he asks, working me over with his hand.

My eyes spring open. He’s asking me about work now? I’m struggling to remember my own name, so I’m not sure how he expects me to recount my work schedule.

“Huh?”

He chuckles and licks a line up the column of my neck. “Work?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Fuck, tomorrow morning. Tonight was definitely unexpected. I have a forty-eight-hour shift to get through starting at seven in the morning. What I should be doing is already sleeping, trying to get rest before my next time off on Sunday morning.

“You need an early night, then.” Sully keeps jacking me off, his hand picking up speed.

“Uh-huh.” At this point, I’ll agree to anything.

“Why not fuck my hand and finally let me know what your cum tastes like?”

“Nngh.” My response isn’t poetic, but between my fast thrusts, trembling knees, and the jolt zipping up my spine, it’s as coherent as I can be. That along with “Fuck!” The word bursts free as I spill into his hand.

Sully’s quick to bend and lick at my cock, lapping at my cum before the water can wash it away.

“Fuck,” I repeat, this time quieter, as I push against the wall to hold myself up.

As he stands upright, Sully licks his lips, looking completely satisfied. “You need to sleep. It’s getting late.”

Is it me or did someone turn the shower to cold? “What? No.” I hate that he’s right. “You can stay, right?”

A soft smile appears as he shakes his head. “I’ll head out. That way you’ll get a proper rest.” He leans into me and peppers a few small kisses on my lips before he backs away.

He can’t be serious and be leaving? My eyes drop to his dick. He’s rock-hard and just begging for me to taste him.

“Nuh-uh. I’m serious.”

“For real?” I pout, which apparently is funny, since his lips twitch.

“For real.”

I huff out a resigned sigh, raking my gaze over his wet, naked body before returning it to his face. His right brow is quirked high.

“What?” I shrug. “You look fucking spectacular. Sweet as sugar. From the sip I had, you taste like it too.”

With a laugh, he shakes his head, his eyes widening a little. “And you’re incorrigible.”

Now, I know what that word means. It’s been used a fair few times about me.

“Are you going to leave me your number?” I ask. Sure, he doesn’t know his plans, but after the short time we spent together, I absolutely want to get to know him better if he does stick around.

His hesitation and lack of response have me frowning.

“Then take mine?” Desperate maybe, but I don’t give a shit. Chemistry like this can’t be concocted in a test tube.

Sully tugs a towel off the hook and wraps it around himself. He stares at me for a beat before finally speaking. “How about you get through your shift, and we’ll see what happens next week?”

What? “So that means you’re sticking around and I’ll see you?”

“Let’s just say maybe.” He turns, but before he leaves the room, he peers back. “Tonight’s been…. Hell, Hayes, it’s been incredible. Thank you.”

And then he’s gone.

I hesitate, thinking about chasing him, following him, calling him as he races away, but I stop myself. I like him a lot—more than I probably should after knowing him for just a few hours—but I’m not a sad case who needs to beg for more.

Though, honestly, it’s a struggle to keep my feet planted in the shower.

He’ll organize an Uber or walk—depending on where he’s staying. And despite the glimpses of hesitancy I saw from him, I have no doubt that Sully knows his mind. He’s 100 percent a grown-ass man. A ridiculously delectable one at that.

I shove my head under the spray, the ghost of Sully’s touch on my cock still lingering.

Looks like I’ll wait and see what happens next week.

“Is this a prank?”

It has to be a prank, right?

At my side, Remy snorts. “You can’t make this shit up.”

Technically, you absolutely could, but… “The callout is really for a cat up a tree?”

For eight years, I’ve been doing this job in my hometown, Collier’s Creek; the five years before that, I was in California, and despite what the movies tell you, a request for firefighters to rescue a damn cat just doesn’t happen.

Or it didn’t until today.

“Honestly, the details are still a little murky at this point.” Amusement trickles loud and clear through every one of Remy’s words.

“To be fair, it might be the guy we’re officially rescuing,” Alice calls out just as she pulls out of the station, engaging the sirens—a little overkill for a cat, but I keep my mouth shut. “Maybe the cat too.”

We head down the main street, where a couple of stores are opening. It’s barely dawn as we’re creeping quickly toward the end of fall, so there are just a few cars that pull out of our way.

“There’s a guy?” I’m so confused.

From beside Alice, Captain Zoey Jackson peers over her shoulder at us. “Have you not had enough coffee this morning, Hayes? Try to keep up.”

I grin back at her. “There’s no such thing as enough coffee, Cap.”

True story. It’s also why I have zero issues doing the coffee runs to CC’s. Sure, they make the best coffee in town, but as much as I love the crew I work with, not a chance I trust them with the coffee order.

For real. One time Remy came back with a half-strength caramel blend of milky water. And that’s not a diss of the baristas—legit, Will, Felix, and especially Cameron make the best coffee ever. Their skills beat any fancy coffee house I visited when I lived in SoCal.

Am I particular about my caffeine? Maybe. Do I also have a sweet tooth to rival Willy Wonka? Absolutely. But when it comes to my coffee, it’s not just a drink; it’s a masterpiece in a cup (or at least it should be). Okay, so that’s probably more of a firm yes to me being particular.

“You’ve got serious issues, Hayes. I’m going to start looking into a Caffeine Addicts Anonymous group.”

I roll my eyes. Cap would not want to deal with me if I went without caffeine, especially when the end of our forty-eight-hour shift is just an hour away.

But back to the cat and man.

“So there’s a guy stuck in a tree?” I glance at my watch. “It’s barely past 7:00 a.m.”

Alice snickers as we turn off the main street and head to where a few small townhouses are located. We screech on by as I look longingly over my shoulder at CC’s. The store light is on, and I can already see a steady morning crowd forming.

“What, is there a time limit for cat and guy tree rescues?” Alice adds.

Not gonna lie, there totally should be.

This morning at the station, I had to rely on our pod machine, and despite the hours I’ve spent perfecting them, my coffee-making skills just don’t cut it. That and we really do need a kick-ass, barista-approved coffee machine.

Cap continues to refuse to add it to our budget requests, but I’m determined to wear her down.

I shrug, releasing a yawn. My adrenaline from the initial reaction to the call crashed pretty epically when I realized it wasn’t a life-and-death emergency. Well, as long as this tree climber hangs on, I suppose. I’ve been sleeping for shit, too, my thoughts constantly replaying my time with Sully. “Maybe there should be. At least until after I’ve made my first trip to CC’s.”

“I’ll be sure to bring that up at the next town meeting, Hayes. Maybe add it to our Fire Awareness leaflets.”

My grin stretches wide, especially as I think Cap is flipping me off in her head. If I can’t start my morning with a good cup of coffee, winding my captain up is the next best thing.

But only because she wouldn’t fire me.

I don’t think.

Though she’s threatened it a few times.

But that’s the thing about Collier’s Creek and especially family—because, yeah, Cap married my cousin Harriet six years back—you can get away with so much shit, and they love you because of it. Or maybe despite it. I’m never sure which option is the most accurate.

Well, at least in my case, the love is strong. It helps that I’m so lovable—for real. For the last four years in a row, I made the state—yep, state —charity firefighters’ calendar.

This year I’m December. Arguably the best month.

The competition is fierce, but damn straight I made the cut.

But back to the cat man.

“So the man was trying to rescue the cat?”

“Nah, the other way around.”

My eyes widen for a second until I realize Remy is full of shit. I flip him off. “Whatever, man. The guy could have just been randomly climbing a tree, and there just happened to be a cat up there at the same time. Where are we heading?”

“Cottonwood Avenue,” Alice answers.

Sweet. My second—completely unofficial—set of parents live there. Abigail, my best friend’s mom, should definitely be awake, likely getting ready for work. As soon as the fire truck makes its way down the street, curtains will twitch. However, Alice has turned the siren off. But still, Abigail’s bound to hear the commotion, and more importantly, she makes a really good cup of coffee.

Not my favorite kind, but still a decent cup.

She even buys caramel syrup just for me.

Another turn and we’re going to hit Cottonwood.

“Hayes, Remy, you guys are on the ladder. Alice, you’re with me.”

“Got it, Cap,” we call out.

We file out as soon as Alice pulls up to the curb.

Huh, we’re legit two houses away from Rhys’s childhood home. While I don’t visit my best friend’s folks as often as I should since he moved to New York, this street is as familiar to me as my own.

I glance up at the young cottonwood that’s maybe just twenty feet tall. There are barely any yellowing leaves left, most having fluttered to the pavement in the middle of fall. The outline of a man is a dead giveaway of which tree we need to lean the ladder against.

The poor guy. I hope he hasn’t been up there long. While the ice isn’t too bad, since it only dropped to thirty-six degrees last night, the rising sun that’s tipping just over the horizon has dropped the temperature a couple more degrees. It’s something science-y I learned when at school, a fact I don’t quite understand, but it stuck.

It’s unseasonably warm, at least. Hell, today’s forecast is a balmy forty-seven. No doubt that means we’re going to be blasted with a serious cold snap in the next few days, just to keep us on our toes.

I wouldn’t be surprised if we get our first flurry of snow in the next week.

Cap’s already next to the tree while Remy and I focus on organizing the ladder.

This street is a quiet one with small-acreage properties, so her words carry easily.

“No shit.”

My eyebrows jolt high in surprise, and I peer at Remy. He’s staring back at me with the same wide-eyed look.

Cap in public is the consummate professional. Zoey , however, has a potty mouth to rival a sailor. It makes sense, since she spent eight years in the Navy. I have no doubt that’s where she picked up all her more entertaining traits.

After Remy unlatches the ladder, we tug it off the rig, sharing another look when Zoey’s laughter ripples through the otherwise quiet street.

Who the hell is up there?

I don’t hear everything Zoey’s saying, but I catch “—paperwork?”

Curiosity has me hurrying Remy forward and calling out, “Where do you want us, Cap?”

She flicks a glance our way over her shoulder, her smile still in place. “Looks like there’s a good branch to my right.” There’s a legit twinkle in her gaze. “You got this?” she asks me.

Hell yes. Not that I’m excited to climb a ladder up a tree, but I love being in the thick of it. It being every single thing I can dive headlong into.

“On it, Cap.”

With an extra bounce in my step, we reach the tree. I keep my focus on the ladder, making sure not to knock anyone’s head off. I have a feeling that would get me fired.

Nepotism—a word I learned once Zoey joined the crew—can only curry so many favors, right?

And just to be clear, I was already a member of the firehouse—I moved back home as soon as a rare opening for a full-time position came up eight years ago—before Zoey relocated here and took over as captain seven years ago.

“So,” I say, hands on the ladder and angling back, “what have we got?—”

Holy shit.

No, like seriously, holy fucking shit.

It’s Sully.

Here.

Up a tree.

Holding a ginger cat. Or more specifically, holding Sizzle, the giant tabby belonging to Rhys’s folks.

Hazel eyes are locked on mine. They’re wide in what I suspect is a mirror image of how wide mine are.

Bright red cheeks don’t disguise just how ridiculously handsome Sully is, though.

“Dude.” Remy nudges me.

Shit.

“Uh, sorry.” I aim for a smile, but it feels weird on my face. What’s obvious is that I need to do something, as I completely spaced out. “Sully.”

Jesus, his name on my lips…. I swallow hard. Flashes of our night together dance in my brain.

Get it the fuck together, Hayes.

“Soooo.” I drag the word out, fortifying myself, determined to keep my shit together. “Come here often?”

Okay, it’s bad. I need a Mayday or maybe a flare gun or something to get me out of this situation.

Cap groans, Remy snorts, and Alice, well—I think she’s wondering if I’m tripping.

What I need to do is change tack, help Sully and the pain-in-the-ass cat down, and then get myself home and to bed. Maybe Sully could come with me. He’s gotta be freezing. I can absolutely warm him up.

“Here’s the plan.” I aim for friendly and calm as I call up. I’ve got this. “I’ll come up and take Sizzle out of your hands. Then?—”

“You know Sizzle?”

My brows dip even as I smile and flick a glance at the damn cat. “Yeah.” I chuckle. “Of course I do. I was with Rhys when he got him as a kitten.”

Sully’s face turns ashen. Worry churns my gut. Fuck, if he goes lightheaded and falls…. I need to get this show on the road and get my ass up the damn tree. Before I can continue, he speaks again.

“You know Rhys?”

My frown deepens. “Rhys Miller?” When he nods, I clarify, “Yeah. He’s been my best friend since kindergarten.” A flash of horror crosses Sully’s features. It’s really time to move. “Listen, Sully, let’s get you and Sizzle on solid ground. After I have Sizzle, we’ll head down the ladder together. I’ll be two rungs below you the whole way, okay?”

A little color returns to his skin, and he nods. That’s good. Real good. He clears his throat, which I already know is something he does when he’s nervous. “Okay. Thanks.”

Yeah, he’s mortified, which I totally get, but he can barely meet my gaze now. It’s bugging me. He said we’d wait until next week. It’s only Sunday.

I think I deserve a little eye contact beyond the rush of his “holy shit” expression when he first saw me.

I shake off my frustration. This isn’t his fault. Well, being stuck up a tree is his fault. But me being here probably isn’t ideal for him, and the gutting truth is, Sully doesn’t owe me anything.