Restoration 01 - Getting It Right (13 page)

I have a serious problem. Or is it really a problem if I know it’s a problem?

Nathan turned a steady, intense stare on him. “You blacked that out too?”

Guilt twisted James’s insides into knots. “Yes. I need a fucking keeper.”

“You need to stop drinking your emotions away, that’s what you need. Something awful happens, and you drink, and you hurt someone. And this isn’t a new pattern, Jay. It’s been you since I’ve known you.”

“At least I’m a consistent asshole.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I wasn’t joking. I
am
an asshole. I was an asshole to you on that roof, and I was an asshole to Elliott for using him because I would never have slept with him if I was in my right mind. I’d never do that to him or to you.”

Nathan made a noise of disbelief.

James bristled as irritation rippled down his spine. He stood, back rigid, needing to make Nathan understand this. “I haven’t fucked anyone else since you were hurt, Nate.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because I want
you
, you idiot! Maybe I ended things before they got started, but knowing you had feelings for me…fuck, it changed everything. Being with someone else seemed too much like…I don’t know.”

“Cheating?”

The tentative word punched James in the throat. “Yeah.” His reply was hoarse because that was the exact right word. He and Nathan weren’t a couple, but something had changed between them when Nathan confessed his feelings. And then fate stepped in and kept them apart, unable to figure out what they were.

“But we aren’t together, Jay.”

“We should have been, but I made a decision for both of us when I lied, and I should not have done that. I love you.”

Nathan flinched.

The subtle motion broke James’s heart a little bit. Nathan still didn’t trust him. James had thrown that trust away with his lie, and now he had to earn it back. “I miss you, Nate. I miss the way you call me on my bullshit. I miss the way you rib me. I miss the way you bite your nails during intense scenes in movies. I miss being able to call you when I’m having a shitty day with a patient, and you listen without asking for more because you know I can’t dump the actual problem on you to solve. I miss your smile. I miss seeing you.”

Nathan’s left hand rose, fingers brushing over the scars on his left cheek, an action that seemed completely unconscious. James had seen the scars, though he’d done his best not to stare.

The dark beard that made Nathan twice as sexy as he’d been before. Not even the obvious weight loss had put him off. No amount of scars would ever make Nathan ugly. Not to him.

Nathan didn’t respond. He’d gone distant, his attention on something that wasn’t even in the room with them. Fingers still stroked the long scar beneath his eye.

“Nate?”

Nothing.

“Nathan?”

James approached slowly. Nathan didn’t react to his proximity—not until James reached out and touched his left shoulder. Nathan’s hand jerked and slammed into his nose. Pain flashed hot and bright, and then he was on his stomach, a knee in his back and an arm across the side of his neck. Instead of fighting back, James went limp because his nose hurt like a son of a bitch and he had no idea what the fuck had just happened.

“Oh shit. Fuck, Jay.”

The weight on top of James scrambled away. He rolled onto his back. His nose throbbed and something wet tickled his upper lip. Nathan knelt next to him with a kitchen towel, his skin pale, mouth twisted in horror.

“What the hell?” James said.

“I am so sorry.” Nathan held out the towel with trembling fingers. “You’re bleeding.”

James pressed the towel against his nose to stanch the blood. Nathan slid an arm beneath his shoulders and helped him sit up. His nose pulsed, sore, but he’d broken it once before in college and it didn’t feel broken.

“I can’t believe I did that.” Nathan scooted back, putting a few feet between them, his entire body hunched. Miserable. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. No harm done.”

“I broke your nose.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s fine. I shouldn’t have touched you when you weren’t paying attention.” He’d seen it before. Patients lashing out when startled, trying to protect themselves from a sudden threat. He fucking knew better, and he’d gone up to Nathan as though nothing had changed.

“It’s not fine. I took you down like you were some kind of criminal.”

“You didn’t know it was me.” He wiped at his nose, which had already stopped bleeding.

Nathan kept threading his fingers through his hair, combing the long strands as though he was trying to tug out handfuls. “I did that to my dad twice. Didn’t give him a bloody nose, but I knocked him down. It scared the hell out of him both times.”

“You’re dealing with trauma, Nate. I’m sure he understands.”

“He says he does. Most days I don’t even understand.”

James tried to keep a lid on the therapist in him, but the friend was just as curious.

“Where were you? I said your name and you didn’t even blink.”

Nathan leaned against the TV console and drew his knees to his chest like a shield. He spoke to his lap. “How many details did Carey give you?”

“Not much.” James had only been able to hound the senior detective so much before he’d become a pest and a hindrance to the investigation. “He told me you were attacked elsewhere and dumped in the alley later. How many times you were stabbed.”

“Seven.” He touched his bearded neck once, then let his hand drop. “I was stabbed seven times. He did that after he beat the shit out of me and broke my ribs and wrist.”

James shivered. “Will you tell me about it?”

“I have a therapist.”

“Then tell your best friend.”

Nathan met his gaze for a moment, dark brown eyes shining with sadness. Away again. “I was upset about how we left things on the garage roof, so I went back to work. I had a hunch, based on his file, that Spokes was a prostitute, so I put on non-cop clothes and went out to see if any of the other working boys knew him. Talked to a few, even talked to a few johns who tried to pick me up. No one seemed to know Spokes.” He paused, his mind sifting through something before he continued. “I finally gave up and was walking down Fourth to where I’d left my truck.

It was really late, quiet. Then someone pressed a cloth against my mouth and nose. It smelled funny and I resisted hard. Probably caught whoever it was off guard, because he sent me headfirst into a parked car. I went down.

“Looking back I’m pretty pissed about that. I always pay attention to my surroundings, but I didn’t see the guy until he was on me. He was wearing a ski mask so I never saw his face.

He kept hitting me until I couldn’t breathe. I don’t remember much about how I got in the van, only that I was in one. Some kind of empty work van with no windows. I remember the cold metal floor. Movement. Pain. Light reflecting on the knife once. Then I woke up in the hospital.”

James digested the additional information while working to keep his expression

somewhat neutral. He didn’t want Nathan to see the horror he felt deep inside—or the rage. Rage directed at the nameless, faceless coward who’d attacked the most important person in his life.

“I was so confused when I woke up and my parents were there, and I couldn’t talk. Then Carey and Parsons came, and I started remembering it all. I knew I needed to tell them everything I could remember so they could find that van and find the assailant, but they never did. The bastard is still out there.”

“They tried,” James said. “I pestered Carey until he threatened to have me arrested for interfering in the investigation. I want you to have justice so badly.”

Nathan’s lips twitched. “We don’t always get justice. Mitchell Spokes didn’t. I probably won’t. I need to find a way to live with that.”

“Nate, why didn’t you want to see me? I understand you recuperating out of town. I understand needing space between you and here. But shutting me out completely? Was it because of the roof conversation?”

“That was part of it. I was in pain and upset, and I knew that keeping you away would hurt you. It was cruel, and I’m sorry.” He touched his throat. “I also didn’t want you to see me like that. Torn up. Weak.”

“Seeing you like that wouldn’t have changed a thing about how I feel about you. I don’t care about the scars. All they mean now is that you survived.” James scooted around to sit next to Nathan, his back against the console. “You survived, babe, and you’re home. We can figure out the rest, right?”

“I hope so.”

Nathan put his head on James’s shoulder, the gesture so simple and so intimate and so perfectly them. James slid closer so he could put his arm around Nathan’s shoulders. Nathan leaned into him, arms snaking around his waist, cheek resting on James’s chest. Holding Nathan set everything right with the world, and James soaked it in. Even his hangover seemed to fade away.

“You said you lied to me about your feelings because you were afraid we’d wreck what we have,” Nathan said after a long, pleasant silence. “I’m afraid to believe in your feelings for the same reason.”

James pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Nathan’s head, savoring the soft scent of his shampoo. “Sometimes the only way to deal with fear is to jump. Do you really think we can go back to the way things were? To being only friends?”

“You say going back as though we’ve already become something more than friends. Did I miss that metamorphosis?”

Okay, point taken.
“I shouldn’t have shut you down that night without us really talking this out. So talk to me now. Tell me what you felt when we kissed.”

Nathan was quiet for an eternity. “The first time, back in college? It was like a kick to the solar plexus. I didn’t understand what it meant, because it wasn’t like it was a real kiss. Just lips touching. And after, I started noticing little things about you, thinking about you differently, and it scared me. I told myself I was imagining things, I kept dating girls, and eventually I had those feelings locked down deep enough where I could forget about them. Life went on.”

“Until I kissed you on your couch.”

“I was up half the night thinking about it. About college. About you. And while I was home recovering, I couldn’t think about anything except what it would be like to kiss you again.

To be with you. I love you, Jay. You know that. I can’t imagine my future without you in it, even if it’s always as best friends. But I’m pretty sure I’m falling
in love
with you too.”

“But you’ve always been straight. Are you saying you’re gay?”

“I don’t know. Maybe so. Will me saying the word make this more real for you?”

“It can’t get any more real.” James swallowed hard, mouth too dry. “Jump with me, Nate.

Trust me.”

“I want to.”

James’s heart thrilled at hopeful words that carried a lingering… “But?”

“I’m not fine. I punched you in the nose. I don’t want to hurt you again for no reason.”

“It wasn’t for no reason, and I don’t blame you. I specialize in PTSD and anxiety disorders, remember? I know why you jump and lash out.”

“Knowing about it and living with it aren’t the same things.”

“Living with?” He couldn’t resist a tease. “You moving in with me already?”

Nathan poked him in the ribs. “You’d be so lucky.”

“Yes, I would.” He carefully pulled Nathan away so he could see him. Stroke his cheeks.

Nathan closed his eyes, allowing James to skim his fingertips over the flawed skin. To touch the marks that had nearly stolen this man away from him.

Mine.

Nathan released a long, shuddering breath. “This is real?”

“As real as it gets.” For James it was a dream come true.

“It’s not pity, or you feeling guilty for me being hurt?”

“No. I swear to you. But I need you to be sure, Nate.”

“Can I say I’m sure if I’m still a little scared?”

“Yes, because I’m still a little scared too.”

“Tell me again?”

“I love you.”

Dark brown eyes met his, and Nathan smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” James’s entire body heated with a feeling he couldn’t describe. Want and need and joy all tumbled together into a single, perfect emotion. He ached to share it all with Nathan, but he wanted—no, needed Nathan to move first this time.

Nathan wrapped a hand around the back of James’s neck and jumped.

Nate brushed his lips across James’s mouth, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, every nerve buzzing. James held steady, allowing him to lead. To explore this very new thing that was kissing a man. It didn’t feel much different than kissing a woman, except no woman’s touch had made his insides burn quite like this. No one else made him want to forget caution and fling himself heedlessly into sensation.

James opened for him, accepting without taking. The tip of his tongue flicked out, caressing Nate’s lower lip. Heat and need and something else, something primal, surged in his blood, and Nate stopped being careful. He took that metaphorical jump, because James wouldn’t let him crash.

He pulled James forward, into the kiss, and thrust his tongue into his mouth. James rewarded him with a deep, guttural groan and hands in his hair. Holding. Tugging. He slid his tongue around Nate’s, teasing, an erotic dance that filled Nate’s senses with James. The taste of him, the heat of his body, the scent of sweat. So good.

His cock swelled, well aware of what was happening. Needing this. He managed a glance down. His pulse leaped at the sight of James’s tented boxers—boxers he’d put on backward.

Probably because some crazy person had been pressing his doorbell and not going away, and he’d stumbled out of bed.

A bed he’d shared with Elliott.

The thought struck like ice water, and Nate froze. James pulled back, cheeks flushed, eyebrows slanted in confusion. “Nate?”

“What about you and Elliott?”

“There is no me and Elliott. Whatever we did last night, it was because we both needed something. He’s my friend, nothing more. I don’t want him, babe. I want you.”

Babe.
He liked that.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” James said. “I’d be perfectly okay spending the rest of the day just kissing you.”