Chapter Nineteen

JACKSON WOKE early the next morning, considering how late they’d stayed up the night before. He wasn’t sure if it was the unfamiliar bed or the person he was sharing it with or the weak sunlight slanting in around the curtains. Whatever it was, it woke Jackson up before seven, and he knew the rest of the day was going to suck.

Leo had rolled away from him in the night and was curled into a tight ball on the other side of the bed. Even while human-shaped, Jackson could smell the lingering scent of sex on their bodies from the night before. He was trying not to think about it too hard just yet. He brushed a light kiss over the ball of Leo’s shoulder before rolling out of bed and pulling on his boxers.

The apartment Leo shared with Mitch was nice. Jackson had always been nervous about the thought of sharing an apartment with someone else, which is why he’d chosen to live in the frat house at college. Sure, that meant living with a dozen other guys, but at least he had his own room and plenty of space in it.

This apartment was fairly big, and the bathroom separated the two bedrooms, which meant far more privacy. Both bedrooms opened onto the open-plan living space, though, so there wasn’t much chance of a private walk of shame.

Mitch was sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal and looking like hell. Jackson nodded to him, then went into the bathroom to take care of the essentials.

When he got out, Mitch was still there.

He looked like he’d had the snot beaten out of him, despite his enhanced healing factor. Jackson guessed it would be a few more days before he was looking like normal again.

Jackson went to the kitchen, found a tumbler, and poured himself a big glass of water. He turned around and leaned against the sink.

“So, you fucked him,” Mitch said. His split lip looked worse this morning, all red and swollen. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so the blooming bruises over his torso were all too visible. “Don’t try and deny it. I can smell it on you.”

“Is that any of your business?” Jackson said mildly.

“When you’re doing it in my home, it is.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“So?”

“Do we need to get into the semantics of it?”

Mitch dropped his spoon into his empty bowl with a clatter. “I know you,” he said acidly. “I know men just like you. He blew you, right? And you didn’t touch him. So you get to still claim you’re a straight boy because you haven’t even seen his dick.”

Jackson wasn’t entirely sure how Mitch knew all this. He took another gulp of water.

“He’s my soul mate,” he said eventually, like it was an answer.

“Yeah, and you’re treating him like shit.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are,” Mitch said, stabbing a finger in Jackson’s direction, then dropping it with a wince. “You’re leading him on, letting him think there’s a chance in hell that you’d actually care for him. That you would maybe, one day, love him.”

“I do care for him.”

“No. No, Jackson. You’re willing to be friends, you’re willing to let him blow you occasionally, at night with the lights off, but that’s not a fucking relationship. That’s not what it means to be soul mates. That’s you taking and taking and throwing him the occasional tidbit of affection to keep him hanging on. You’re a piece of shit.”

“That’s enough,” Leo said from the doorway to his room.

Jackson snapped his head around. There was no way of knowing how much of that Leo had heard. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, making everything feel tight and sick and awful.

“If you don’t want Jackson to stay over, then say so, and we can make other arrangements,” Leo said. “I’m old enough to look out for myself, Mitch. You’re not exactly in a position to talk right now, anyway. Since I’m pretty sure you didn’t get that stunning black eye from a podium.”

“Fuck you,” Mitch snapped.

Jackson turned, rinsed his glass, and set it on the draining board. Leo and Mitch were still making murder eyes at each other, and he really didn’t want to get in the middle of that particular catfight. He went over to Leo, touched his arm gently, then went to get dressed. A moment later, Leo followed him into the room.

“Sorry about that.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Jackson said. He pulled on his jeans, hopping into them, then grabbed his shirt too and quickly buttoned it over his T-shirt. “Your friend needs you. I don’t know what happened to him, but he looks like he could do with someone to take care of him.”

Leo nodded. “I’m still sorry. I was going to take you out for breakfast.”

“That’s okay.” Jackson grinned. “The deal was somewhere to sleep, not breakfast as well.”

“Rain check?”

“Sure.”

Jackson looked at Leo for a moment, really looked at him. All bare freckled shoulders and slim torso and flat chest. Those sweet, sleepy eyes.

Jackson was nothing if not rebellious.

He pulled Leo in close and wrapped a hand round the back of his neck. After checking his eyes for permission, Jackson leaned in for a quick, sweet kiss. He hoped it held a promise—that Jackson was going to not be the piece of shit Mitch seemed to think he was. He could do this. He could be a decent person.

“I’ll call you soon,” he murmured. Leo nodded and brushed his lips over Jackson’s jaw.

He left without saying goodbye to Mitch.