Chapter 7

“You have to tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing.”

“I never thought I’d say this to you, of all people, but you’re lying. And I don’t appreciate it.”

Fear and shame spiked, mixing until Connor couldn’t distinguish one from the other. “I’m not.” He couldn’t put any force behind the words, but neither could he find it in himself to admit the truth. Not to Wesley. Nor to himself.

He was starting to get better. He was sure of that. His sessions with Matthew barely affected him now. He had forced himself not to think anymore. He didn’t even notice that he was doing it, or the amount of energy it took to maintain it.

“Yes, you are. Fuck it, Connor. We’re supposed to be partners, to trust each other. How can I trust you when I know you’re lying to me?”

“Babe—”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me. I want the truth. Is there someone else?”

For a second, Connor stared at Wesley, dumbstruck. “What?”

“Are you seeing someone else?”

“No!”

“What is it, then? Why won’t you let me help you?”

“You can’t help me.” Connor watched the hurt darken Wesley’s eyes, but he couldn’t take it back. “You can’t help me because there’s nothing to help with.”

“That’s bull! If you won’t talk to me, talk to someone else.”

“Like a shrink? What for?”

“No, dumbass. Though that is an option, if you need it.” Before Connor could object again, Wesley continued. “I was thinking Lucas. He’s your friend.”

He left out the but I’m your boyfriend part, but Connor heard it anyway.

“Once and for all, I’m fine.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Wesley almost threw the coffee cup in the sink. “Keep your secrets. I have to go, anyway. I’m filling in for Lucas for the next few days, and I have to be there until closing time.”

Frowning, Connor stared at the now-empty kitchen doorway. For a moment, he’d forgotten that Wesley was a Dom in his own right. An experienced one at that.

But what if the problem wasn’t with him but with Wesley? Had he missed the clues? And how had he not known that Lucas would be away that day, or that Wesley would be covering for him? Why hadn’t Wesley told him?

Heading to the bedroom, he anxiously watched as his lover got dressed and left for the club, but Wesley’s early departure for work brought him little peace of mind. Instead of using the alone-time to read or listen to music, he worried until he gave himself a headache.

Why was Wesley keeping things from him?

***

Connor cringed when Wesley jumped as he entered the room. He watched the play of emotions on his lover’s face, unable to piece them together. There was recognition in Wesley’s eyes, combined with warmth, but beneath that, the weight of his distress was clear.

He wanted to cross the room and take Wesley into his arms, to hug all his worries away, but he found himself torn. Why hadn’t Wesley come to him if he had a problem? Trust and openness formed the foundation of their relationship, after all. Trust. Openness. Loyalty.

But as it turned out, Wesley was not following the rules. He wasn’t sharing with Connor what was wrong with him. Connor knew he should punish Wesley for the disobedience, but he couldn’t do it. Not when he didn’t trust himself to stop before he went too far. Besides, this might be the one time when kink wasn’t the answer.

Since the night when they’d last had sex, Connor couldn’t help feeling that Wesley was testing him, and the mutual boundaries they had set in place. On a deeper level, he knew that wasn’t the case. Wesley wasn’t Alin, and he wasn’t unstable. But a little annoying voice in the back of his head kept drawing parallels with Alin, making him wary.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Wesley shrugged, not meeting his eyes. Connor could see he was still upset, but he didn’t want to address that at the club.

Connor offered Wesley a tight smile, before going to his locker and stuffing his jacket inside. “What time do you finish today?” Connor didn’t know where the question had come from, but he didn’t want to take it back.

Surprise flashed across Wesley’s face. He frowned, and glanced at the watch on his wrist. “I’ve finished my appointments for the day, but I have to stay on until closing time.” As I’ve already told you. The unsaid words, written clearly on Wesley’s face, hung between them.

Connor nodded.

“Why were you asking?”

Connor opened and closed his mouth, not sure what to say. He wanted to spend time with Wesley—maybe pick a movie, or invite Wesley to take a walk with him. Instead, he chickened out. “Just curious.”

Wesley glanced to the side. Connor could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “Well. Now you know,” Wesley bit out.

Connor scowled at the bitterness in Wesley’s voice, teeth grinding. He was facing a long shift; he didn’t need Wesley’s mood. He wished Wesley would just go ahead and tell him what was wrong, so they could work through it and move on. Instead, he nodded at his lover, jaw still clenched, and left the room without another word.

But as the evening progressed, it ate away at him. Wesley lingered in his head through every scene he had. He saw him in every sub. And all of them were lacking.

Yet, he couldn’t have Wesley. The evening crept on, maddeningly slow, but when it was done, he didn’t want to head home. He didn’t want to stay, either, knowing that Wesley would be there until closing time, and that would put them in close proximity was more than he could handle for the moment. He took his time setting his room in order, and when he ran out of things to do, he dragged his ass home.

At the end of the shift, he’d dropped a text to Wesley, informing him that he was going home. He’d debated finishing it with something sweet that might help him break the ice, but then he’d remember the stern way Wesley had treated him and decided against it. Maybe he could make some something special for Wesley as an apology instead. He checked the pantry and set about making his grandma’s special apple pie.

By the time the pie was out of the oven, it was well past midnight, and he fell asleep on the kitchen chair.

Connor woke with the clear feeling that something was wrong. For one, he’d woken in the kitchen, and secondly, he could tell he was alone in the house.

Shit!

He climbed to his feet, his joints creaking and protesting, and headed for the bedroom. His eyes fell on the untouched bed as soon as he opened the door. For an instant, he stood frozen in shock, staring at the unturned comforter.

Where was Wesley? Had something happened to him?

He rushed back to the kitchen and searched for his cell phone. He saw the little green LED blinking, signaling that he had a message, but it took two tries to turn it on. Ignoring the rest of the notifications, he went straight to the text from Wesley.

The night ran long and it’s too late for me to come home now.

Falling into his chair, he stared at the screen without understanding, at first, what he was reading. Anxiety rose to choke him. Fuck! Wesley hadn’t come home. He’d preferred to sleep at the club.