As Jesse’s lips pull away from mine, he rests his forehead against my cheek. I can feel the sweat on his flesh, and as he breathes against me, I find my arms are wrapped around him, seemingly locked in place as if I’m stuck to him.

I don’t want to let go.

While we were enjoying one another, I allowed myself to forget about everything. About responsibility. About the shoulds and should-nots. I abandoned reason as I was caught up in doing everything I could to make sure Jesse’s first time experimenting with a man was satisfying. He deserves that.

Everyone deserves that.

There are so many bastards in the world, so many twisted fucks who would take advantage of him. Which is why I’d prefer his first experience to be with me—genuinely caring about him, wanting what’s best for him, willing to take my time and not rush him.

He whispers against my face, “That was so amazing, Eric,” and his words of reassurance ease my guilt about what we’ve done.

Ty hadn’t been gone ten minutes, and the moment he stepped out, the release of that pressure, of that obstacle… I totally submitted to my desire. After our bodies touched, it was over for me.

But now, in the afterglow, that guilt rises within me once again. What lingered in the back of my mind comes to the forefront. I don’t feel ashamed of what I gave to Jesse, but I do feel ashamed knowing how it could hurt me in the long run.

“What do you say we shower up?” I tell Jesse.

He leans back, and I almost regret having said anything that would make him pull away from me since I enjoy having him that close to my body.

“Like together?” he asks, his expression twisting up. “That sounds kind of gay.”

There’s that warm, friendly smile again, so inviting, so playful, filled with an innocence I don’t believe I could ever experience again. “Well, if we’re going to be gay, it’s better to do it with another man, isn’t it?” I ask him and hop up from the bed. “Come on. We’re showering in the master bathroom now that Ty’s gone.”

He follows my lead into my bathroom.

Two sinks are placed in the marble counter along the wall, with the shower enclosed in glass on the other side of the room.

“You know, I gave Ty shit about this bathroom when I first saw this place,” Jesse tells me.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I open the glass door to the shower. I know what he’s talking about. With three showerheads in the relatively open space, I definitely didn’t cut the budget when renovating the bathroom. “I like having a big shower,” I tell him.

“This is like a porn shower, though,” Jesse says. “This is where they would shoot the gang-bang scene.”

I smile. “That’s probably true.” I turn on one of the showerheads, and Jesse approaches to join me. “There are three showerheads, and you come over here?” I tell him.

He throws his hands up. “Oh, did you feel like we needed some distance? Is that why you invited me to shower with you?” he asks, a suspicious expression on his face.

He has a point.

“I’m not used to showering with other people, even when I’ve been in relationships, hence all the showerheads.”

“Who’s the third?” he quips.

“Shut the fuck up. There was no third. I picked it from one of several designs.”

“Well, it’s very impressive. I’m sure your place in Atlanta looks fabulous. And your place in San Diego.”

Even though he’s still acting playful, I can tell there’s some judgment, which I understand. It’s not like any of that could be cheap.

“Okay, okay. I get where this is going,” I say. “I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I’m not ashamed of that.”

“Chill out. I’m busting your balls. I mean, you do make a lot of money.”

“I don’t imagine you’re doing all that bad for yourself.”

“Me? I’m unemployed.” He offers that cheeky grin of his before adding, “It’s really not a big deal. I was just ragging on you. Didn’t realize I hit a nerve.”

Jesse grabs a bottle of liquid soap from a nook in the wall and spreads some across his hand. He holds the soap bottle out, offering it to me, and I take it. As we lather up with soap suds, I tell him, “Sorry, I get weird having conversations about money. I think people typically assume that because I have these things, I’m some sort of privileged prick, but those aren’t the circumstances I was born into. I assume you’ve met Ty’s mom, Tricia?”

“Oh yeah, a few times. She’s very nice.”

“She always had money. She never really knew life without it. I never had that. It took a lot of hard work and a lot of lucky breaks to get here, and sometimes people will see something I own, something I’ve earned, and make a quick judgment about me.”

“I have to admit I can definitely be put in that category,” Jesse says. “Especially with how Ty acts. He never seems exactly appreciative about his circumstances. I mean, he had it kind of easy growing up, and I guess I figured you were probably cut from the same cloth. Don’t take that the wrong way. You’ve definitely proven me wrong, and I’m glad I know you better now.”

“I’m glad I know you better too.”

I wrap an arm around him and pull him close, taking his mouth with mine. As I pull away, he sizes me up before asking, “So what were things like for you growing up, then, if you don’t mind me asking.”

I didn’t mean to start down this path. I just didn’t want him to think I was some dickbag tycoon, but I can tell my defensiveness has only amplified Jesse’s curiosity.

And after what we shared, there’s a part of me that wants to open up. I want him to know more about me. It’s strange as fuck because, with most people, opening up is the last thing in the world I want to do, but there’s something about Jesse—the way he catches me off guard—that tears right through my defenses and makes me want to break through barriers I’ve spent years of my life building up.

“Just a father who didn’t have much faith in me, who cared a little bit more about racing toward his own destruction than he did about raising a child.” He looks at me like he’s expecting me to go on, but I’m not interested in saying more than that. I shake my head. “Sorry,” I say, stepping back to pull him more under the showerhead so he’s in the stream of water. “Didn’t mean to hog all the water.”

He chuckles, but then his expression turns serious. He looks at me like he’s trying to figure something out, like he’s trying to read more into what I said, and I almost wish I hadn’t mentioned it. At the same time, there’s something cathartic about talking to him, like sharing something I’ve never shared with anyone else but my therapist.

There’s a relief in knowing I’m not carrying it all on my own.

Between what I just said and the expression he’s making, I feel like there’s no easy way out of this, and so I kiss him again. Just enjoying that. I start fondling him, and he does the same with me.

Once again, we lose ourselves in the moment.