Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 9

turned and swam away, not waiting to talk to any of them, but not before I had seen Logan cup his hand around the neck of a bikini-clad lovely and give her a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. It looked like the guy was trying to clean her tonsils. Not that she was complaining.
    I held back a shudder. The guy had a major attitude problem and was seriously getting on my nerves. I tried to ignore the fact that I had just touched his dick, although I wasn't entirely sure if I was grossed out or just the tiniest bit turned on. A dick is still a dick at the end of the day. No doubt he'd be having nightmares about it for weeks.
    That thought alone made me smile as I toweled myself off and made my way back to my tent. Thankfully alone.
    ****
    We had another downpour overnight which kept me awake into the small hours. I lay on my back, arms under my head, and listened to the rain thunder down onto the tent roof. I love how the rain always sounds so much more intense when you are in a small, enclosed space. I wondered what Logan and his buds were up to. They were probably all crammed into one of the larger tents, having an impromptu party or make-out session, or something.
    I didn't know why the hell I was thinking about Logan, but a sudden wave of loneliness washed over me. I was pretty much alone on this dig. Sure, I knew people, but none of my best friends had opted to come out here. Even Mark, my ex of three months, had switched majors. He said he didn't want to hang around places where I would be, but I figured it was more to do with a certain handsome Latino biology major. A Latino whose biology I had seen way more of than planned, when one morning I discovered his very fine ass pounding into another fine ass I knew all too well.
    Anyway, that was ancient history. I wasn't going to dwell on it, or him. It did mean that the only dick I had touched in months, apart from my own, was Logan's.
    I didn't sleep well for the rest of the night and was tired and antsy the next day. The situation wasn't improved when Professor Carter decided to split us into smaller groups and send each group off to explore one of the caves we had cleared.
    Naturally, I was assigned to Logan's group.
    ****
    To make matters worse, Professor Carter decided to assign me as group leader. Like that wasn't a big old keg of trouble just waiting to explode. And it did. In a spectacular way.
    I liked to consider myself an organized and efficient kind of guy—probably one of the reasons that the Professor singled me out—and nothing pissed me off quicker than people not pulling their weight, or being deliberately disruptive. Logan naturally excelled at both of these things.
    We were scoping out our cave, looking for any signs of habitation, arrowheads, stone markings, whatever, and would log them or take samples if we could. It was dark and gloomy in the caves, still stiflingly hot, but a welcome relief from the relentless summer sun.
    The importance of what we were doing clearly eluded Logan and his limited brain capacity, as he quickly got bored and started to wander around, flicking twigs and dead insects at everyone, me in particular. I tolerated it for as long as I could, but when a beetle bounced off my ear I rounded on him and threw my hands in the air in exasperation.
    "Are you going to do ANY work, Logan, or is your sole contribution to this dig going to be acting like a total pain in the ass?"
    Logan smiled humorlessly. "Maybe I just don't like taking orders. Especially from you."
    "Well, tough shit. Professor Carter asked me to lead this team, and I'm damn well gonna do it."
    Logan swaggered over to me, his eyes glinting in the dull light. "Ass-kissing old Carter now?" He laughed. "Does it get you extra credit? Probably gets you off at the same time, boy like you."
    The three other guys in our group had stopped working at this point and were watching our exchange, a mixture of wariness and glee on their faces. I got it. A shouting match was always fun to watch, wherever you were.
    The fact that Logan had once again insulted me and called me a brown nose pissed me off. Working hard and doing your best were just what you did where I came from.
    "No, you idiot. It's called doing the right thing." I pointed down at his abandoned tools. "Can't you bring yourself to be even a little bit helpful and do some goddamned work?"
    Logan shrugged. "What's it worth?"
    "Oh my god, are you twelve?"
    Logan said nothing, just looked at me, the silent challenge clear