Chapter Eighteen

Sasha

LEANING over the sink, Sasha rubbed the scruff on his chin, considered shaving it, and discarded the idea. What did he have to get dressed up for anyway? With a little over a week until Christmas, there weren’t a lot of teaching positions available to apply for, and the few interviews he’d picked up weren’t scheduled until after the school break.

He crossed the room to his tiny kitchen table to sit, tipped his chair back, and kicked his feet up onto the corner of the table. The bottle of Jack beckoned, and he answered its call. Eight in the morning? That wasn’t too early when your life had suddenly emptied like a sailor’s wallet in a liberty port. A laugh that sounded too close to a sob escaped him as he tipped the bottle back.

Most of his life, he’d been the motivational guy, the fun-times guy, the silver-linings guy, the one to lift others up even when he hadn’t felt any of it, even at the worst of times. Hope had been what he’d pulled it all from, wanting to believe happiness waited at the end of the battle as long as there was no giving in. That was over now. Something inside him didn’t work anymore.

Once, he’d had a remote control with a broken piece inside that rattled and made the volume stick. He was the same, his emotional volume set to one level, maybe forever, with everything dull, muted, gray. Smiling was so out of his reach these days, he couldn’t even fake one anymore.

All his life, no matter where in the world his parents had gone, Sasha had loved Christmas and everything about the season, even though he’d mostly been alone. It never failed to lift him into another world where wishes came true, good people outnumbered the bad, everything was beautiful, and the spirit of giving prevailed. The past few days, he’d tried so hard to get that feeling back, the excitement, the fun. Fucking broken volume button. So much for picking himself back up.

He’d been staring off into space for countless minutes when a knock came at the door. His first urge was to ignore it. No one but Percy knew where he was, so it was probably someone soliciting. Girl Scout cookie season hadn’t started yet. The knock came again. What the hell, why not? Mormon missionaries could be damned cute, and there was no doubt his loneliness was about to swallow him whole.

Without bothering with a shirt, he pulled the door open and froze in midgreeting. Nic stood at his door with his hand raised to knock again. Dammit, why’d the man have to look so good? Even with exhaustion layered over his handsome features, he was the kind of sexy that seemed unreal, the kind that drew stares, and it hurt to look at him. Who was he kidding? Everything hurt right now.

“Hi.” Nic’s voice was barely above a whisper. He dropped his hand and gestured toward the studio’s interior. “Can I come in?”

Some petty part of Sasha wanted to shut the door in his face, but instead he took a step back. “Uh, sure.”

Sasha hadn’t noticed the large basket until Nic picked it up from where it sat next to him. He brought it in and placed it on the table, which was so small, the basket nearly covered its surface. Nic took a second to look around while Sasha closed the door. Yeah, it would only take a second. The place was a hole in the wall, barely a studio, with a tiny room in the corner where the toilet and shower stall were. Even the bathroom sink and mirror were in the single main room. And worse, Sasha didn’t have proper furniture, having left everything with Drew back in California. A bare mattress propped up on milk crates sat in the corner of the room. At least that was neatly made up with decent bedding.

Sasha had never cared about how cramped and plain the room was until Nic was here. Now he shifted uncomfortably, waiting for Nic to pass judgment. When he didn’t say anything, Sasha dropped back into his seat, surreptitiously glancing at the bottle of JD next to the basket. Shit. As if his living situation weren’t embarrassing enough. Couldn’t he have at least used a glass?

Nic opened the basket and unpacked a few things, some wrapped breakfast sandwiches, fruit, fresh coffee. “I brought breakfast.”

Sasha shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”

With a sigh, Nic’s eyes trailed down his bare chest, and Sasha knew what he was seeing. So, yeah, he’d lost a little weight over the past week, but he wasn’t starving or anything. Nothing sounded good. Even when he had hunger pangs, he didn’t have an appetite.

To his utter shock, Nic dropped to his knees in front of Sasha’s chair and took Sasha’s hands, the intensity in Nic’s expression taking his breath away. “I’m so sorry,” Nic rasped. “So fucking sorry, Sasha. I fucked up. I got scared. Everything started unraveling, all my work falling apart, and it was easier to push you away and blame you. None of it was your fault.”

Those emerald eyes searched Sasha’s face, but he wasn’t sure what to say to that. His heart pounded out a hard rhythm, and heat warmed his cold body for the first time in days, but that broken thing in him was a weight holding him down. He wanted to be happy that Nic seemed to have changed his mind, but wanting happiness and being happy were very different beasts.

“Please, come back, Sasha.”

He pulled his hands from Nic’s, stood up, and paced between the table and the foot of his makeshift bed. His gut cried out to go back home—hah, home. Like it had ever been his. Yet in the month he’d lived there, it had felt more like home than his own childhood house.

“I can’t.” He turned to Nic, who’d risen to his feet. The pain on Nic’s face doubled the pain in Sasha’s chest. Nic actually felt something for him, then. Maybe this wasn’t a ploy, another shaky employment offer. “Nic, I can’t work for someone I have feelings for, someone I have a relationship with. Because look what happens.” He gestured around the room.

Something took over Nic’s expression, a burst of surprise mixed with a bit of wonder. His brows rose, and he moved right into Sasha’s space, nearly chest to chest. Sasha’s breathing sped up.

“Do you, Sasha?” he asked, holding Sasha’s gaze, his lips hovering only an inch away so his warm, minty breath puffed against Sasha’s. “Do you feel for me? You want a relationship with me?”

Sasha barely nodded before Nic’s hands cradled his head, holding him fast for a devouring kiss. And another and another. Nic kissed him over and over, deep, slow, heady kisses, pressing his body into Sasha’s. That passion and sincerity eroded Sasha’s meager resistance. Nic pulled back, out of breath, before leaning his forehead against Sasha’s, his eyes burning with emotion.

“I want this, a relationship with you. I love you, Sasha,” he said. “Yeah, I want you to come home, but if you need to be here, I can live with it as long as we’re together.”

Taking a chance on Nic was risky. They’d only been around each other a few weeks. What would happen next time Nic freaked out and Sasha was even more in love than he was now? It would destroy him, maybe permanently. With a small shake of his head, Sasha started to take a step back, but Nic grabbed his hips and jerked him close.

“Don’t,” he said. “Sasha, don’t make the same mistake I did out of fear. If you want me, take me. I’m yours.”

An almost-whimper came out of Sasha, and it lit Nic’s eyes with fire. He wrapped his arms around Sasha, his hands tracing Sasha’s spine, pressing into the muscles. Sasha’s thoughts scattered, his focus blown. Working his way along Sasha’s jaw and throat, Nic sucked and licked, leaving hot patches that would end up as red marks and wrecking Sasha’s resistance even further. Not much felt more incredible than Nic’s mouth on Sasha’s body, especially his throat. Sasha moaned his pleasure and couldn’t stop grinding his hips against Nic.

“That feel good, Sasha?” he whispered between kisses. “Wanna get my clothes off?”

Another tremulous moan, and then Sasha fumbled with Nic’s buttons until he couldn’t wait anymore. He popped the last few and peeled the shirt from those broad shoulders, running his shaking hands along Nic’s lean muscles as he went. Then Nic caught them against his chest.

“Sasha?”

Sasha waited, but Nic didn’t say anything more for several minutes. Maybe he sensed the knot of discord driving Sasha, making him so fucking frantic. The destructive force of their sudden breakup remained inside Sasha, a malicious echo whispering how alone he was no matter what Nic said. Getting physical with Nic was a way to ease those whispers, to be connected to his lover again. He could convince himself for a while that making love was the same as having love.

It wasn’t, though, and somehow, Nic knew better. He released one of Sasha’s hands and tugged him down to lie on the bed. He continued to pet Sasha, tracing his face and pushing through his hair. Finally, Nic leaned over to press his lips against Sasha’s ear. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, and I’ll never say that enough. I love you.”

He wanted to believe him, but he was still raw with the pain of the last few days. He rolled over to see Nic’s face, and Nic propped himself up on his elbow, bending down to kiss Sasha’s lips. Nic tucked his face against Sasha’s throat and wrapped his free arm tightly around him.

“You’ve only known me a few weeks.”

“I know. Why do you think I got gun shy?” Nic shrugged one muscular shoulder. “We kind of went from zero to sixty in a few days.”

Sasha hesitated, running his fingers through Nic’s trim, dark chest hair. “I don’t want you to think I don’t feel the same, because I do. What you did wouldn’t have hurt so much if I didn’t.” Nic cringed, his eyes closing, and Sasha almost regretted bringing it up. “But we haven’t even been on a date. We’re all backward.”

Surprisingly, Nic opened his eyes and laughed. If Sasha hadn’t been lying down, the affection in those gorgeous green eyes might have knocked him on his ass. “I’m not worried. All my friends started out either fucking or rooming together before ever dating properly. Look at us. We did both.”

“Meh. I’m not admitting even a little that you might have a point. The couples I know dated first.”

“Grindr meetups don’t count as dating.”

“Why not? It’s a dating app.”

“You mean hookup app. Most people ditch the date before it happens or hook up.”

“Overgeneralizing, sir.”

“Yes, I am.” Nic nodded and then grinned. “I kind of like that too much, you calling me sir.”

He gave Nic a slight shove. “Well, don’t get used to it, asshole. I’m a bottom, not a sub.”

With a happy-sounding grunt, Nic hopped off the bed and pulled his shirt back on before grabbing a sandwich and some ripe berries from the table and climbing back on the bed, sitting on it crossways to lean against the wall. He pulled Sasha up beside him.

“Here.” He pushed a hulled strawberry between Sasha’s lips. “I need to feed you. Humor me, would you?”

Sasha shrugged and ate the berry. It was bursting with a perfect balance of sweet and tart. “Where’d you find good berries in the middle of December?”

“Hothouses. I had Vicki source them last night.” He shook his head as he fed Sasha another berry. “She was not happy when I called.”

He could imagine the picky chef’s annoyed face. Again, Sasha wanted to laugh but couldn’t, only managing a weak smile before chewing his strawberry. “That was some effort. To woo me, huh?”

“Yep, but it was a few other people’s effort. I was just ready to beg, maybe camp outside your door.”

“Gah, you’re telling me this now?” Sasha tugged Nic’s arm. “Go back outside. We’ll start over, and I’ll hold out longer.”

“Nope. Too late for take backs. I’ll beg and grovel some other time if it’ll make you happy.” He paused and cupped Sasha’s jaw, a frown and creased brow settling on his features. “You’re still hurt,” he whispered and then sucked in a sharp breath at whatever he saw in Sasha’s eyes. “I hate what I’ve done to you. I promise, Sasha, I’ll heal this between us no matter how long it takes.”

“Nic, it’s okay. You’re here now. You apologized.” None of the worry left Nic’s face, so Sasha continued. “And I accept it. Your apology. All right? I’m sorry, too, that—”

“You did nothing wrong that needs an apology.”

“Well, I’m sorry anyway.” Sasha took the breakfast sandwich Nic shoved at him and ate a bite before explaining. “I mean, sorry things went to shit at work. I don’t regret last Sunday because it was the best day of my life, but I’m sorry about after.”

They ate in silence the next few minutes before Nic cleared his throat. “The kids miss you desperately. Any idea how often you want to come over? They’re on break now until the New Year.”

There was a hopeful light in Nic’s eyes, and it drove guilt through Sasha’s stomach, making it impossible to force any more food down.

“Maybe we could have a game night tomorrow,” Sasha said.

“I’ll never think of a game night or movie night the same again.” Nic grinned and then frowned. He pulled Sasha into his lap and hugged him so hard, he could barely draw a breath. “All right. Tomorrow night. Have dinner with us around five, okay?” He waited to feel Sasha’s nod, and then his hands rubbed Sasha’s back. It felt so good, Sasha nearly purred. When Nic finally withdrew, it was slowly and with great reluctance, but he said he had work to wrap up so he’d have more free time over the break.

Hmm, imagine Nic trying to make free time. Obviously, Nic’s priorities had shifted, which was a great thing, especially for Lucy and Ben, who Sasha missed like crazy. He couldn’t wait to see them tomorrow, even though it might not show much outwardly. By the time Nic left with a final kiss and insisting Sasha eat the rest of the food, that worry hadn’t left Nic’s expression.

It was clear Nic sensed the wounds still open in him, but Nic’s rejection had only been the last straw, the one that broke him. Nic’s apology, his loving words and his touch, helped soothe the deepest ache, but the sharp edges of his memories still drew blood. He wanted so much to go back to the way he felt that last weekend before his world fell apart, and it was, no doubt, why he’d offered little resistance to Nic. Or was he falling into the same old patterns again? Would he repeatedly give in to Nic to keep up the façade of being agreeable?

Hey, look at me. I’m a good boy. I promise I won’t cause trouble. Please, keep me this time.

If only there were a humane society for lonely boys who get thrown away. He slumped back onto his bed, ignoring the strawberries he spilled over the bedspread. If things were going to work out with Nic, he had to find a way to toss those old patterns and be a real partner. But would Nic still want him if he knew the whole Sasha, drama and all? It would mean trusting Nic more than ever, the one thing he wasn’t ready to do after the past few days. As if his love troubles weren’t enough, getting his budding relationship back with Nic wasn’t going to magically fix everything else wrong in Sasha’s life. Maybe once Sasha put everything else right, he could fix that broken thing and be himself once more.

But sometimes what was broken never went back the same way again.