Where Nerves End

by L. A. Witt

  “Might as well just come out with it,” I said over my coffee cup. “Clear the air now before things get weird.”

  His eyes darted toward me.

  Okay, so much for before things got weird.

  Exhaling hard, Michael rested his hip against the counter and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “All right. Well, when it was only you and me in the house, it was no big deal, but….” He gestured at the stairs. “It isn’t just us. And I guess I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Do you…. You don’t think I’d throw this in his face, do you?”

  “No, no, it’s not that. But….” He blew out a breath. “Fuck, I don’t even know why it’s bothering me so much. I thought I wanted this. And I do. I really do. But we live together. With my kid. And you’re my patient. And I’m….” He closed his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Last night was great, but now that I can think clearly, I… I just don’t feel right about it.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. I wanted to argue that we could work around every one of those things, but… could we?

  I took a breath and said quietly, “So we’ll go back to being roommates, then?”

  “I don’t see what choice we have.”

  I bit back the obvious option.

  “Dating someone is one thing,” he said. “Living together, with my kid in the house….”

  “We don’t have to do anything while he’s here.”

  “He’s not stupid,” Michael said flatly. “We don’t have to be all over each other for him to figure out something’s going on.”

  “I’m not suggesting he’s stupid, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “Jason, we really shouldn’t do this.” Sighing, he sagged against the counter. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to take it any further, but….” He rubbed his eyes. “I have to think about my kid. And with us living together, things could get really complicated.”

  My heart sank into my stomach. “Living together will also complicate things if we decide to back off.”

  “So are we obligated to keep it going?” he asked. “Because we live together?”

  “Not at all. All I’m saying is it’ll be complicated either way.” I hooked my thumbs in the pockets of my jeans to keep myself from folding my arms. “We can’t exactly go back and erase everything that happened last night.”

  “No, I suppose we can’t.” He rubbed his forehead. “The thing is, my kid doesn’t even know I’m gay. I barely admitted it to myself until recently. How the hell do I explain any of this to a seven-year-old?”

  “Are you ashamed of it?”

  “What?” He shook his head. “No, of course not. I….” Lowering his gaze, he released a breath. “I mean, I’m not sure. I really don’t know how I feel about it. About… any of it.”

  I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how.

  Keeping his voice so low I could barely hear him, Michael went on. “It goes beyond telling him I’m gay. Even dating is fucking complicated these days. I’m always worrying less about the relationship itself and more about how it’ll affect my kid, which pretty much sabotages things, and….” He trailed off.

  “And I probably empathize with Dylan more than you think,” I said. “My parents are divorced and both remarried while I was a kid.”

  He shifted a little, eyebrows up. “And was it difficult for you?”

  I shrugged. “Of course it was. But it wasn’t the end of the world.”

  “And how would it have been if one of your parents were gay?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe it wouldn’t have. But I did want my parents to be happy.”

  Michael sighed. “Which Dylan definitely wants. I think it’s been harder on him than me when I’ve split with people.” He paused. “The last time I broke up with someone, it was completely amicable, and honestly, I think that made it even harder on Dylan than if he’d heard us fighting.”

  I cocked my head. “How so?”

  “It confused the hell out of him. I mean, we’d kept all of our arguments out of his sight. And as I said, it was amicable. We told Dylan we weren’t getting along and needed to go our separate ways, but to a five-year-old, that didn’t make any sense. He’d never seen us not getting along, so as far as he could see, things were fine.”

  Michael sighed. “His mother and I have always been on friendly terms too, and we’ve been apart as long as he can remember. So he doesn’t know how to deal with relationships. His mom and dad have never been together. His dad’s only girlfriends have left with, as far as Dylan’s concerned, no warning. That’s why he’s never been able to bond with his stepfather. He’s scared to death that any day now he’s going to come home and Lee will be gone.”

  Closing his eyes, he scrubbed a hand over his face and swore under his breath. “The fact that you and I are living together only makes it that much more complicated. For Dylan and for me.”

  “And me.”

  “And you,” he said with a subtle nod. “Look, I know I’m probably making more out of this than I should, but… I’m sorry.” He avoided my eyes, and drawing back against the counter, he widened the gap between us by a short but decisive distance. “I’m not ready for this. Not right now.”

  I swallowed but didn’t say anything. What could I say? It didn’t matter how much it disappointed and frustrated me. I should have known this wouldn’t be as simple as falling into bed and everything being perfect from there on out.

  “I should….” He cleared his throat. “I should get to the clinic. Finish up some paperwork. And I promised Dylan I’d take him out to eat tonight, so I’ll be home a little later than normal.”

  I just nodded.

  He went upstairs. Not ten minutes later, he was out the front door and the house was empty.

  Alone, I released my breath and slumped against the counter. I could not catch a fucking break. Especially since I couldn’t seem to stop putting myself into situations where—

  No. Not going to spend the day wallowing in self-pity. Wading in it, maybe, but not wallowing.

  I went upstairs for a shower. Body still aching from the kind of sex we’d just agreed not to have anymore, I closed my eyes and let the hot water run over me while I replayed our conversation.

  How could I argue with a man who wanted to protect his kid? I remembered what it was like when my parents started dating other people, and I lost enough sleep these days without being the reason a little boy was upset.

  But now what the hell did I do? This didn’t change how I felt about Michael. It didn’t change the fact that I was more attracted to him than I could ever remember being to any man, especially now that we’d had the kind of sex I’d craved forever.

  But our professional and housing arrangements complicated the sex. And the sex complicated our relationship as roommates and as doctor and patient. I needed the acupuncture. We both needed the house. Two needs trumped one want, so the only thing we could cut was the sex.

  No matter how good last night had been or how much I wanted to do it all over again.

  Absently rubbing my shoulder beneath the hot water to keep pain from creeping in, I whispered a string of profanity.

  Just once in my life, couldn’t something be simple?

  And for the first time, I regretted having Michael move in.

  Chapter 16

  BY ALL appearances, Michael and I adapted back to platonic roommates without missing a beat. We passed in the halls. Played video games together—nonviolent when Dylan was with us, violent as all hell the rest of the time, especially when Seth was there. Took turns with various tasks in the house and the yard. Talked in the kitchen, the living room, out on the deck as if nothing had ever happened upstairs.

  But all the while, the walls closed in. Inch by inch, day by day, the house shrank. The halls narrowed. The distance between his bedroom door and mine shortened, and in spite of the decreasing space, the echo of ever
y creak, every step, every movement was amplified. No matter where Michael was in the house, I was hyperaware of him.

  I needed to relieve this tension, but I was afraid of Michael overhearing me. Two single men living together, there was bound to be some jerking off once in a while, but he knew I was attracted to him now, so he’d put two and two together and figure out he was on my mind. Either way, I couldn’t even relax myself with a little desperately needed masturbation.

  And then there was the issue of my shoulder. Naturally, I’d reached the point where I could somewhat comfortably afford my appointments. I could pay Michael without cutting into my food budget or visiting El’s pawnshop. Effective treatment was available and accessible for the first time since I’d fucked up my shoulder, but nothing aggravated the muscles like stress, and even the acupuncture wasn’t helping now. Or, rather, the acupuncture helped, but the acupuncturist’s presence countered everything his treatments offered. Alone in a dark room? With my shirt off and Michael’s hands on me? What wasn’t there to wind me up, stress me out, and turn my shoulder into a bright red beacon of holy fuck that hurts?

  So I called and canceled my next two appointments.

  “Do you want to reschedule?” Nathan asked. “I can schedule as far out as the end of July if that helps.”

  “Not right now,” I said. “But thanks.” Maybe I’d check into one of the other acupuncturists in town. Eventually. After I figured out how to explain that to my roommate.

  Three days after my second canceled appointment would have happened, Michael came into the kitchen while I poured my morning coffee at quarter to noon.

  He folded his arms loosely across his bare chest and stood in the doorway. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” I made myself focus on pouring my coffee. On doing something other than facing him. Especially while he was standing there being all half naked and goddamned attractive.

  “How’s your shoulder?”

  I resisted the urge to roll it to prove I could move just fine. Especially since I couldn’t move just fine. Without turning around, I said, “It’s fine.”

  “You know I can see it from here, right?” he said. “The muscle’s tense. You’re favoring it badly. You’re holding your arm like—”

  “What do you want me to say?” I snapped, turning to face him.

  He jumped, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. “Jason, I want to help you. You’re obviously in—”

  “Yes, I’m in pain.” I leaned against the counter and gripped its edge. “It fucking hurts, all right?”

  Michael exhaled. “Then why not let me help you with it? If it’s a money issue, we—”

  “It’s not the money,” I said. “I can’t… I can’t do it.”

  He cocked his head. “But you’re in pain.”

  “Thank you, I hadn’t noticed,” I muttered.

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “If there’s something I can do, then say so, and I will.”

  I stared at the floor, silently debating letting him treat me or telling him why I couldn’t let him touch me.

  “Jason?”

  I swallowed. “Honestly?” I took a breath and mustered every bit of willpower I had to look him in the eye. “Having you treat me is only making it worse.”

  His eyes widened. “I thought you said it was helping.”

  “It is. Well, was. The acupuncture helps, but….” You drive me insane. When you touch me, I want to touch you. Just standing here talking to you this way is making the muscle spasms worse because I’m going out of my ever-loving mind.

  He pushed himself off the doorframe and took a step toward me but stopped when I drew back. He slid his hands into his pockets. “Is this about what happened between us?”

  “Of course it is,” I whispered. “When you work on me, it helps, but then I get so goddamned wound up from having your hands on me….” I made a sharp, frustrated gesture and avoided his eyes. “It pretty much cancels out whatever the needles have done.”

  “I didn’t realize this was bothering you that much.”

  “It is.” I lifted my gaze and met his eyes for a fleeting second. “So, yes, my shoulder hurts. But going to the clinic or having you treat me here, it isn’t helping. I mean, it’s bad enough wanting you the way I do when you don’t want—”

  “I never said I didn’t want you.” Michael came closer, shrinking the space between us to less than an arm’s length, and when I drew back, my shoulder blades met the wall. “For what it’s worth, it’s been killing me too.” His voice was unsteady. “If you think this has been easy for me, think again.”

  I closed my eyes and released a frustrated breath.

  “Jason, I want you so bad, but this is….”

  “If avoiding it is driving us both this crazy, maybe it’s not as wrong as you think it is.”

  “I’m not saying it’s wrong. I’ve never said it was wrong.”

  “So if we didn’t live together with your son and you had never been my acupuncturist….” I moistened my lips. “Would we?”

  “In a heartbeat,” he breathed as he reached for me. The gentle pressure of his hand on my waist pushed the air out of my lungs. “If those factors weren’t in place, God only knows what we’d have done by now.”

  Goose bumps rose along my arm as I touched his. “But those factors are in place.”

  “Yes.” He wrapped his arms around me. “They are.”

  I traced the edge of his jaw with the backs of my fingers. “Which means we can’t.”

  Michael nodded.

  I couldn’t make myself draw my hand back. I could barely make myself form the words, “Then why are we doing this?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice shook, and he touched his forehead to mine. “All I know is, I want you right now.”

  “What do we do about tomorrow?”

  He swallowed, pulling back and looking me in the eye. “We’ll… figure that out when we get there. Right now I can’t think beyond, well, right now.”

  I knew it was a bad idea. I knew I’d regret it. I knew I’d be kicking myself as soon as it was over because this would only make it that much harder to get him out of my mind.

  But I kissed him anyway.

  We stumbled. Holding on to each other, breathing in rapid unison, we nearly tripped over each other’s feet before I found the counter and leaned against it for support. Now that we had gravity and support taken care of, the kiss deepened and intensified, his thickening erection pressing against mine and weakening my knees.

  His hands slid under my shirt and across my skin. The heat of his touch made me shiver, and I arched my back, which pushed my body closer to his. I reached up to run my fingers through his hair, and that simple movement ignited a twinge in my shoulder.

  A twinge that drew my attention away from his kiss and to the pain that had sparked this whole conversation. The pain that needed the acupuncture I couldn’t get because I couldn’t deal with Michael touching me because he wouldn’t touch me any other way. Except now. This time. This one time.

  And after this, what?

  Nothing had changed. The reasons he balked at this still existed, which meant once the dust settled and the orgasms had peaked and fallen, we’d be back to where we were at the beginning of our conversation.

  And if we did take this upstairs, I wasn’t sure I could handle his disappointment when my shoulder kept us from going quite as wild as we had the first time. He knew damn well I had chronic pain, but accepting that in theory and accommodating it in the bedroom were two very different animals.

  “Really?” I heard Wes in the back of my mind as Michael’s fingers pressed into the back of my neck. “If you’re not in the mood again, just fucking say so.”

  “It’s not that.” I parted my lips for Michael’s insistent tongue. “You know it isn’t.”

  Michael pressed me against the counter, and Wes’s phantom voice growled in my ear, “If it’s that bad, take a fucking pain pill. I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Wes,
Wait….”

  As the slamming door echoed in my mind, I broke the kiss and pulled away from Michael. “Wait. Stop.” I gently freed myself from his embrace and sidestepped out from between him and the counter. “I can’t do this.”

  He stared at me, hands still hovering in midair between us, and I couldn’t tell if he didn’t believe me or hadn’t heard me right.

  “I’m sorry. I… I can’t.” I took a step back, putting up my hands to keep him from closing the distance I’d created. “I know you want to protect Dylan. I know you’re concerned about the whole doctor-patient thing. And I get it. We can’t have a relationship. One that’s a hundred percent sexual or… or isn’t. We can’t. I get it.” Hands still up, I took another step away. “But I can’t have you for one night and then pretend I don’t want you every night after that.”

  Before he could give me a reason to stay, I turned and walked out of the kitchen.

  THINGS ONLY got worse. Two steps forward, ten steps back. We’d given in once and crossed a line, and the second we’d separated, we were farther apart. The house’s walls closed in tighter and tighter the more Michael and I tried to avoid each other.

  Every minute in that house was driving me insane, so whenever I had the chance, I got the hell out of there. I spent hours at the club. Hung out with Seth whenever possible. Anything and everything that didn’t put Michael and me in each other’s crosshairs.

  Tonight, when I left, I didn’t have a conscious destination in mind, but when I stopped the car, I wasn’t surprised by where I was. After all, in spite of my hurry to vacate the house, I’d taken the time to grab a shower, make myself presentable, and double-check my reflection in the rearview before I’d pulled out of the driveway. I had on a bit of cologne, and my lucky silver chain rested across my collarbones. Where else could I have had in mind?

  I locked my car and walked into Jack’s.

  The guys were hot, as they always were, and more than a few had stripped down enough to show off the beginnings of their presummer tans. Tight leather, tight denim, tight shirts. Grins and winks, suggestive looks, pickup lines—his next drink is on me.