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Cooper was terrified. It wasn’t that he thought Ash’s idea was entirely without merit, but going full out? Making love? Having penetrative, out-of-control sex on dry land? He didn’t have his ground-stone anymore, and despite today’s positive experience in the basement, where everything had seemed under control, Cooper knew full well that he could still generate and release too much power.
Without the ground-stone, Cooper couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t level whole neighborhoods. Not when he was with Ash, not with their mutual, harmonic resonance feedback. Certainly not with the way they bolstered each other’s power. And, hell, Cooper had found it hard enough to maintain even a regular level of control around Ash under the best of circumstances.
“Obviously, you’ve thought about this a great deal,” Cooper said hesitantly. He didn’t want to turn Ash down, especially not when Ash had that excited gleam in his eyes, not with the way he comfortably softened as he leaned into Cooper’s shoulder.
No, he didn’t want to deprive Ash of even the tiniest smidgeon of happiness. He just wanted to make sure that Pittsburgh was standing when they were done.
Ash nodded. He settled into the brand-new chair of their brand-new kitchen. He had displayed absolutely no doubts that moving to their Lawrenceville rowhouse, as they had originally planned, was the right thing to do. Likewise, he exuded a similarly good feeling about his Sycamore Island idea.
“If you don’t want this, then we don’t have to...” Before Ash could say anymore, Cooper grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. “No. No, I do want this. I want this for both of us. I just... I want to be responsible about it.”
Ash quirked his eyebrow at him, pulled on his beer, and grinned. “With you, safe sex takes on an entirely different meaning.”
They both chuckled uncomfortably.
“It’s just simple physics,” Ash said.
“The physics of magic?” Cooper’s smile floated out all by itself this time. As he let his beer sit untouched, Cooper tried to summon the same self-confidence and satisfaction which he had felt in the basement only half an hour ago. Rationally, he knew that this wasn’t an entirely lost cause.
Ash had a good point, and furthermore, Ash had gone out of his way to seek out a solution to their unusual predicament. Maybe Cooper’s lack of training had led to his initial lack of control, but he had improved. They, as a couple, had to fulfill their physical needs as well as offering each other unwavering daily support.
He had not doomed this relationship yet. Thin hope stirred in Cooper’s breast, and he met Ash’s painfully hopeful eyes when he said, “When you talk like this, you remind me of Uncle Owen!”
Ash spun his half-empty bottle between his hands. The sound of glass clinked steadily against the slate tabletop, and beads of condensation ran together down the bottle’s long, brown throat.
Ash spun it again, and again, as though he was just passing time while waiting for Cooper to decide. Cooper sat, mesmerized by the movement of Ash’s hands and by the pattern of watery circles which Ash’s bottle was leaving behind.
Ash’s hand slipped.
The bottle fell.
Alarmed, Cooper reached out.
The bottle hovered in midair, teetering like a drunken sailor with Cooper’s and Ash’s hands inches away from it. Slowly, carefully, Cooper exerted his will.
The bottle clunked back into a standing position.
“Nice parlor trick,” Ash said with raised eyebrows.
“Glass is a lot like stone. The table is stone.” He glanced at the slate table top, just so he didn’t have to weather the intensity of Ash’s curious gaze. This was new, though. He had never stopped anything from falling.
Never.
Once again, Cooper exerted his will. He focused on the wet chunk of glass ahead of him, and on the surface that supported it.
Slowly, in little pushes and jerks, the bottle moved an inch in Ash’s direction.
Cooper slumped in his chair, threw his head back, and laughed. “If I can control this, I think there might be hope for me yet. “ As he said it, something much like a light bulb clicked in Cooper’ minds. He lifted his gaze towards Ash’s very brilliantly sparkling eyes, he knew what Ash was going to say next.
“See how far you have come?” Ash gave him a smile that was both encouraging and victorious. “If you can do this, then...”
“Then we can visit the Sycamore Island.”
They leaned their faces close together over the corner of the slate table. Before their passionate, relieved kiss blossomed enough to occupy his mind entirely, Cooper’s last thought was that they would soon be finishing each other’s sentences, and old age wasn’t going to have anything to do with it. If that was so, they might as well go the whole hog.
They broke apart, gasping for air, and Cooper realized that this was the first time he had ever seriously considered proposing to anyone.
Except he didn’t dare to. Ash was a solitary creature, or had been before they met. Cooper bit his lip in an effort to remain silent. He wouldn’t do anything rash and scare Ash away.
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COOPER EYED THE faraway island curiously from the pontoon boat. They hadn’t even left the dock yet, and Cooper already had butterflies in his stomach. The moored craft bobbed up and down on the waves caused by faraway boats, and the movement of the deck underfoot didn’t fill Cooper with confidence.
Suppose the boat sank.
Suppose his lousy swimming skills failed him.
Suppose the safety vest he was wearing failed to float.
He felt Ash’s smaller hand in his. Warm, comforting, giving a light squeeze. “I know. We are on the water. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”
The pilot eyed them curiously. He was tall, wore a long ponytail, and sported distinct Native American features which happen to be uncommon in the Pittsburgh area. His name was Jesse Hightower, and he had the body of an ancient God. Not that Cooper was looking – Cooper was mostly worried about not sinking.
“I take it you’re not a big fan of being on the river?” Jesse’s question was posed in a neutral way. He didn’t mean to offend or embarrass, and for that, Cooper was grateful.
“Not really,” he choked out. “I don’t swim real well.”
Jesse gave an open-throated laugh, the kind that lit his face all the way to the crinkles that peeked from behind his mirrored sunglasses. “Trust me, I know how you’re feeling right now. Before I got involved in doing triathlons, I used to sink like a brick!”
Ash seemed eager to jump at anything that would distract Cooper from his predicament. “Oh, so you do triathlons?”
Jesse checked the engine, gave their life vests a once-over, and untied the rope from the dock. “Sort of,” he said before he turned the engine over. “Give me a sec so I can back out, and then I’ll tell you.” Cooper observed him maneuver the square pontoon boat back and forth, circling backwards, then pointing them headfirst through a space between the two floating docks that formed the boat’s enclosure.
Once they were on the river and the engine settled into a satisfied purr, Jesse piped up again. “My boss decided everybody should do a triathlon. Back when I worked for his security company full-time, he decided we all have to look fit, you know? Even me, even though I’m just in IT.”
Momentarily forgetting the terror of the river around him, Cooper looked Jesse over. He looked nothing like an IT geek.
“Except I didn’t know how to swim,” Jesse said. “I had to learn from scratch, and if it was not for this guy taking pity on me and loaning me his trainer, I would’ve had to doggie-paddle the whole thing!”
Cooper cleared his throat. They were halfway to the island by now, and the boat was almost certainly crossing a deep part of the river. If he fell out of the boat now, and if the vest failed to support him, Cooper was mortally certain that he’d keep falling into an endless abyss, on the bottom of which he would drown. Somehow, he didn’t think the water liked him very much. It felt... jealous.
“So are you still doing triathlons? That’s pretty impressive.” Cooper managed to get the words out without stuttering.
Jesse shook his head. “No. Ever since my husband started doing them professionally, it got too serious. He’s faster at everything. Running, biking, swimming. And he has to travel to different training locations, and to races. I go with him twice a year, and I work four days a week. When he’s out of town and I’m on my own, I volunteer here, doing river conservation.”
Husband. This hot dude, a non-profit volunteer who was taking them to the island, the fellow who was piloting this boat, had a husband. Cooper slid a glance towards Ash, and just at the same moment, Ash glanced in his direction.
Ash smiled.
Cooper squeezed his hand in a conspiratorial gesture. They weren’t all alone.
Soon, the gravel ground against the bottom of the pontoon boat. Jesse cut the engine and jumped off the front. He held it by the rope, tugged hard, and wrapped the rope around a stump on the shore. “If you pass me your things, I’ll stack them on the beach for you,” he said.
“Thanks!” Ash said and jumped straight into the river, not caring if his shorts got wet.
Cooper proceeded more cautiously. “Here, let me hand these things to you,” he said, and when Ash was ready, Cooper tossed duffel bags and camping supplies to Ash, who tossed them to Jesse, who then stacked them on the dry pebble beach.
Then it was time for him to get off the boat. Get his feet wet. Surely he could do that!
As carefully as he could, Cooper lowered himself off the front. The shallow water hit his sun-baked calves with a shock of unexpected coolness. He could just feel the current tugging at him with its greedy little hands. Quickly, as though not to offend or seem intimidated, Cooper made his way onto dry ground.
Being here, on an island and entirely surrounded by water, was curiously isolating. Threatening, even.
Jesse hopped back into the boat. “Alright then, I’ll pick you up in two days!” He looked around. “Hey, Ash! If you wade back, I’ll hand you your cooler. You guys forgot your food.”
The situation having been salvaged, Cooper waived at Jesse with a wistful expression. He was stuck on a rock in the middle of the river. He was entirely surrounded by an element he couldn’t read, whose language he didn’t speak, and who didn’t particularly care for him.
Two days from now couldn’t come fast enough.