by KC Burn
JEZ COULD not shake the feeling someone was watching him. It had intensified after Halloween and getting his tires slashed. In the days since, there hadn’t been another damned suspicious person or incident. He was trying desperately to believe it was nothing more than bad luck, and each day nothing happened got him closer to that belief.
It was easier when Hayden had his four days off, though. Work helped too, but here he was, Friday night, all alone in Hayden’s house. A man’s shout made him flinch. Had to be one of the neighbors.
Jez turned up the volume on the fluffy rom-com he’d selected, his e-reader on the couch next to him. He was going to need both for company tonight. He’d rather not take a Xanax if he could avoid it. He’d had a healthy supply when he left New York, but if he ended up taking it every day, he’d run out before he found a new therapist. He’d found a few possibilities, but he hadn’t decided if he should choose one close to work or close to home. As comfortable as he was with Hayden and as much as he was coming to love Pasadena, their arrangement wasn’t permanent, and Hayden hadn’t dropped any hints about making it so. Having to drive a long distance in shitty LA traffic to see a therapist would cause even more anxiety. But he couldn’t put off the therapist decision much longer.
Paul and Tyler were both busy, and Miguel was on shift tonight too. A commercial flicked on, and Jez hopped off the couch to check the locks again, then pulled the blinds down on all the windows.
He didn’t care if Hayden laughed at him in the light of day tomorrow morning. Since the tire incident, Hayden would sometimes get this speculative look in his eyes. Like Jez had done something inexplicable, and not necessarily good. It wasn’t even anything tangible, nothing he could explain to friends to get a second opinion. Maybe Hayden was questioning Jez’s sanity.
Sometimes Jez questioned it. No reason Hayden shouldn’t worry about it too. Tonight, he’d wigged himself out enough that he’d even spread a puppy pad by the door, in case he couldn’t bring himself to take Fang out for his before-bed pee.
Jez’s phone rang, startling him.
Fucking hell. Now his phone was scaring him. He snatched it up. “Hello?”
“Hey, babe. How are you doing?”
Jez breathed easier. Even if he wasn’t imagining the weird looks Hayden had directed at him, at least Hayden still cared. Knew Jez was worried, even if Hayden thought he was crazy.
“Doing okay. Watching a movie. Guess it’s been a quiet night for you?”
Jez settled back into the couch and pulled the fleece throw over his legs and partially over Fang. He wasn’t alone, and that made all the difference. Fang helped some, but he wasn’t guard-dog material.
They talked for almost an hour, and as soon as Jez hung up, he dozed off.
Chapter 10
JEZ COULD hardly believe he’d been living in Hayden’s house for almost two months. The house felt like home, but he was still checking out apartments. Although he hadn’t slept in the guest room in weeks, Hayden hadn’t mentioned making living together a permanent thing. It was all well and good to talk about the benefits of communication, but he couldn’t invite himself to live there forever. And honestly, that might be moving too fast. Getting a place of his own might still be smart, even if he was becoming more reluctant each day. The more he came to care for Hayden, edging perilously close to love territory, the less he wanted to leave. They felt more solid as a couple than Jez had ever experienced with a boyfriend. Maybe it was because Jez was getting older and wiser. Or maybe living together for two months was the equivalent of dating for a year. Sort of a relationship fast track.
The sensation of being watched still lingered, but with no other incidents, Jez was able to mostly ignore it. He didn’t think Hayden could, though. Those speculative looks cropped up every couple of days, and sometimes he thought Hayden wanted to ask him a question but changed his mind. Didn’t feel like an invitation to live together, unfortunately. But it unsettled him enough to keep him searching for apartments. Not frantically, but he went to see a couple every few days, while Hayden was on shift.
It was hard to find anything that compared to the amenities he had in Hayden’s house, and that didn’t even include the frequent and utterly bone-melting sex.
Despite those few niggles, they were hosting their first party, a Black Friday dinner. Hayden had popped out to grab a few things they’d missed when they’d done the big grocery shop earlier in the week, and that gave Jez time to call and make some appointments to look at more apartments next week. Then he could enjoy the party and the weekend with Hayden, who’d started his four-off today.
HAYDEN’S SHOPPING trip had been a disaster. He’d only popped out to pick up a few things, but the universe had been pissed off about something.
Lentils. Who know they came in so many varieties? And tofu. Jez had specified exactly what he’d wanted, but Hayden hadn’t been able to find it among the soppy, soggy, juicy bricks of processed soybean. And Jez hadn’t answered the three texts Hayden had sent. If he hadn’t grabbed an appropriate alternative, Jez was going to have to get it himself or do without. To make matters worse, an old woman in the checkout line patted his ass, and his beloved truck hesitated alarmingly when he started it up in the parking lot.
Fang bounced around his feet while he put away the few groceries, and Hayden patted him on the head before seeking out Jez. What he needed was a bit of loving attention from Jez to smooth over his spiky mood.
Hayden rocked to a stop outside the den. Jez was on the phone, and Hayden couldn’t believe his ears. Hell, he’d have had an easier time—maybe—accepting that Jez was cheating on him. This… this was a betrayal he’d never seen coming.
But he waited until Jez was done. Waited and listened and heard enough to know he wasn’t imagining things. Wasn’t blowing things out of proportion.
They were expecting guests in a little under an hour, but Hayden didn’t know how he could talk and laugh and mingle with this hanging over his head.
“Thanks. I’ll see you then.” Jez dropped his phone onto the coffee table with a clatter, stood, and saw Hayden. And Hayden saw the guilt, clear as if someone had Sharpied it across Jez’s forehead.
“You’re moving out.” That hurt, pained voice couldn’t belong to him. And yet the words were his, jagged shards of ice simultaneously slicing him to ribbons and freezing the warm place inside that loved Jez.
Jez rounded the couch. “No. I’m not. Not really.”
Hayden pressed a fist to his stomach. Jez was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he’d failed. Failed to make a go of the relationship. But why hadn’t Jez told him? Hadn’t he promised to help Hayden through the mire of relationship pitfalls? “I heard you.”
“Well, yes, okay. I’ve been looking at apartments. I’ve been looking since my first week in California.”
“But why?” If Vic and Jordan could see him now, they’d be utterly disgusted, but Hayden was ready to drop to his knees and plead for Jez to stay. He wanted to ask if Jez wasn’t happy, but how could he? They—Hayden—didn’t talk about feelings much. He knew what he felt for Jez was big, so big it overwhelmed him sometimes, but that had been okay. Because he’d been sure Jez was right there with him.
Now he knew he was wrong. Jez had been… killing time? If nothing else, that should negate Marco’s theory that Jez was dangerous—in the stalker sense. But he was going to destroy Hayden nonetheless.
Jez shook his head and reached out for Hayden, but he flinched back. The look on Jez’s face was like Hayden had slapped him. Pained and surprised all at once. Hayden didn’t want to hurt Jez, but he couldn’t process his own hurt, never mind assuage Jez’s.
“Do you want me to stay? I mean, the plan was always for me to get an apartment, wasn’t it?”
Hayden grudgingly lifted a shoulder. “Dunno. Maybe. But then we had sex.”
“Oh? And you invite all your hookups to come and live with you, do you?”
Those words seared him like he’d wa
lked into a three-alarm blaze wearing nothing but bunny slippers. Their first time had been special… to Hayden. Apparently Jez had thought it was only a hookup. And ever since then, what? Just an endless series of hookups? Had he agreed to be Hayden’s boyfriend because he hadn’t found somewhere else to live?
“If I did, I’d expect them to pick their clothes up off the floor and put their dirty dishes in the dishwasher.”
Jez gaped at him, and Hayden didn’t even know why he’d said that. It had nothing to do with what they were talking about, but he’d wanted to fling something back. Something that might hurt in return.
“What are you even talking about? I clean up after myself.”
Hayden rolled his eyes. “You did not get the gay neatness gene. The only reason it looks like you clean up after yourself is because I do it for you.”
What was happening? How had this veered so badly off the rails? And yet, Hayden was mad and hurt and had no fucking idea how to stop lashing out with the wild fire hose that was his mouth.
“Oh, if we’re going to fling stereotypes at each other, you didn’t get the decorating gene. Why on earth would you paint everything white? It’s like a blank canvas for The Matrix or something. Or a hospital. A morgue.”
God. Getting slammed in the balls wouldn’t hurt like this. Hayden could barely drag in a breath. “Then maybe we ought to cancel the party. Give you a head start on apartment hunting. I wouldn’t want to keep you in the morgue any longer than I have to. Don’t worry, I won’t expect you to hook up with me so you’ll have a place to stay until you find an apartment.” Hayden’s voice was raw with unshed tears, but he’d be damned if he let Jez see how badly he’d been eviscerated.
He turned and strode as fast as he could without actually running to the bedroom. His, not theirs, as he’d been considering it. Hayden slammed the door behind him.
But the room was no longer the haven it had been. How would he hide what had happened in this room? There was no way to get more blank than white.
Angrily he scrubbed at his eyes and started yanking the blankets off the bed. If he was going to be alone from now on, he couldn’t do it if his sheets smelled like sex and Jez.
The door to the bedroom blew open, Jez standing there like a sexy, heartbreaking avenging angel. Hayden froze, waiting for yet another attempt to carve out his heart.
“What the fuck was that?” Jez had never sounded so angry. “Wait, are you crying?”
Jez rushed over to him and Hayden sat on the bed, face averted. “No.”
“Okay, I don’t know what happened down there and I’m starting to think you don’t know either.” Jez sat beside him and grabbed his hand. “I think we need to talk. Calmly. Because I know I said some things I shouldn’t have, and from what you said back to me, you took those things in the worst possible interpretation.”
Hayden didn’t think he could speak without his voice breaking, but Jez didn’t seem in any hurry to do anything but rub Hayden’s hand with his thumb.
Fang came into the room and bounded up the doggie steps to wedge his way onto their laps. Hayden used his free hand to pet the soft fur, a calming lassitude descending. His swollen eyelids burned and his nose was all stuffed up. But the rage had drained away, leaving only a gaping maw of pain, one he suspected might linger for a long time, like a second-degree burn that hurt to even shower with for days and weeks after the injury.
This time Jez wrapped his arm around Hayden’s shoulder and tugged him close. It wasn’t perfectly comfortable, but Hayden twisted to make it work, getting his nose into Jez’s neck, inhaling that sweet spicy chai scent he loved so much and was going to have to get used to not having in his life.
“Let’s start with the big-ticket item first. Which I think is apartment hunting.”
“Do we have to rehash this all?”
Jez stiffened. “I don’t know. I thought we were boyfriends. In a relationship. Who had a fight. I…. Do you not want to be with me anymore?”
A slow twisting started in Hayden’s gut. Had he so badly misconstrued this? “I do want to be with you. I thought you didn’t. That wasn’t… that wasn’t us breaking up?”
“Holy shit.” Jez breathed the words out, sounding awestruck. “I hadn’t realized when you said you’d never had a relationship, you’d never had a relationship. Didn’t you and your friends ever disagree on things? Or your parents? Say things you regretted?”
Hayden shrugged. “I don’t remember ever fighting with my parents until I came out to them. The closest Miguel and I ever came to arguing was the other night when he came over for dinner.”
“What about Jordan and Vic? I mean, I’m glad you’re done with them, but over the years you must have disagreed with them about something.”
“Yes, but I never told them. Now that I’ve told them….” That hadn’t been a fun conversation when Jordan was done with his suspension. Even after Miguel had talked to Vic, Vic had called Hayden up and Hayden had to have the same conversation he’d had with Jordan. “Anyway, I’m glad they’re gone too, but that was the first time we’d ever had anything close to an argument.”
Jez hugged him, and Hayden allowed himself to believe that maybe things weren’t as dire as he thought.
“Right. So, the only big blowups you’ve ever had with anyone… have been followed by you losing them. Your parents obviously set the stage for your avoidance of conflict, but we need to find ourselves a therapist, because you need to be able to speak your mind without fearing everyone is going to leave you.”
Hayden bit his lip. “So just to be clear… you’re not leaving me?”
“No, I’m not leaving you.” Jez’s words rang with conviction. “Hayden, I love you.”
Oh. Hayden hitched a breath before his eyes started to burn again. “I… I love you too.”
Jez wrestled him to the bed so they were lying down, pressed together, and Hayden got a full-body hug.
Hayden hugged Jez back but couldn’t stop himself from whispering into his hair. “If we love each other, why don’t you want to live with me?”
“Hayden, I do want to live with you. I’ve been loving living with you. But this is… unusual. I mean, we started living together, then having sex, and then dating. We’ve done everything backwards, and it’s been… making me nervous. Like we missed a vital step.”
“Uh-huh. And how has following conventional rules worked out for you so far?”
Jez sputtered out a laugh. “You’ve got a point. Maybe we just need to do what’s right for us. If you want me to live with you, no reservations, then I will stop looking for apartments.”
“I want that. Except… not if you think this is a morgue.”
Jez’s lower lip pushed out and he stroked Hayden’s arm. “I don’t. It was just a figure of speech, I swear. But it is very, uh, plain. I haven’t done anything to change it so far, but if you want this to be my home too, I’d like some say over the decor.”
Heart racing—and not in the way it usually did when he had Jez in bed—Hayden tried to breathe deeply, to calm himself. But the breaths kept coming faster and faster and his vision narrowed and Jez pinched his arm.
“Ow.”
“Shit, Hayden, you were starting to hyperventilate. Look, I get that you’re obsessive about cleaning and neatness, and I promise to try and be better about that, but what freaked you out so badly?” Jez seemed truly concerned, and to be honest, Hayden hadn’t quite realized how affected he’d been.
“Uh, so, you know I lived here with my gran, right? She had this place decorated the way she liked it. Busy Victorian-style fuzzy wallpaper with intricate patterns. Knickknack tables and shelves filled with collectible porcelain figures and spoons and thimbles. Sometimes it was hard to get around, but everything had its place, and she loved those things. She also wasn’t like other grandmothers. She had her own computer and she knew how to use it. She’d bid online for estate sales and auctions and Etsy and tons of other places. Get stuff delivered. It was manageable, or so
I thought, until oh, I think I was about twenty-two or so. That’s when most of the closets were filled. Then the deliveries became odder. Reams of old newspapers and magazines. Broken dolls and ripped stuffed animals that she was sure she could mend. But they all just sat around, and then encroached on the living space.”
Jez’s eyes were wide, focused on him, but Hayden couldn’t hold his gaze very long. “I was still pretty young. I didn’t know what to do about it, and if I tried to get rid of anything, she’d cry or scream or both. But as long as she had her stuff, however junky and weird it was, she was good.”
“And no one knew? Not even Miguel?”
“Miguel hadn’t even moved here when Gran started buying stuff. When he showed up, things were getting bad. I… have to admit, he seemed a little preoccupied, and I wasn’t a good enough friend to find out what was wrong. Now, of course, I know he was worried about you, but at the time, I think we used each other as a distraction from our family issues, rather than gaining true support. What I should have done was gone to talk to my supervisor—he’s captain now—but it never occurred to me, and I had no one to ask.” Yeah, his captain would have helped or figured out who could. Hayden had never appreciated what a good man he was, what a good leader he was, but as with many other things, the blinders of oblivion had been lifted.
“I’m so sorry, Hayden. I wish I could have been there, but I wouldn’t have been any help either.”
Hayden swooped in for a quick kiss, taking comfort in his boyfriend. Who was going to live with him.
“Thanks. I appreciate that. Anyway, so long story short, a few months before her death, the arthritis became so bad I was alternating between my shifts at the firehouse and being an almost full-time caregiver. Stuff wasn’t stacked up to the ceiling, but there were only defined paths between piles, and only our beds and a couple of chairs escaped getting buried. After she passed, it took me two years to get everything cleaned out, and when I got down to that busy curlicued wallpaper, it had almost all been damaged by mold. I had to have the house fumigated, repaired, and repainted. Fortunately there were no cockroaches, but there were spiders and silverfish.”