by L. A. Witt
“I’m so sorry, Michelle,” I said again.
“Me too.”
“And thanks. This really helps.”
“Any time. I know we’re over, but I really hope we can still be friends.”
I did manage to smile at that. “I hope so too.”
We ended the call a moment later, and I stared at the dormant phone for a long time.
I would never have cheated on Michelle with Marcus or anyone else, but she was right that we’d both started checking out of our marriage. I just happened to work with a man I still had feelings for after all this time, and once I’d stopped focusing all my energy on trying to save my marriage, those feelings had made themselves known.
A threesome should have been—and could have been—a lot of fun. If Michelle and I had been in a better place. If Marcus and I hadn’t been exes.
And, I thought with a sinking feeling, if I hadn’t still been in love with Marcus.
Maybe that was why things with him were so hard right now.
Because no matter how much I wanted to hate him sometimes, I was still in love with him.
Chapter 16
Marcus
Hands tucked into my pockets and face nestled into my zipped-up jacket, I shivered against the cold as I left the garage. I’d been here for over an hour waiting for the mechanic to give me some kind of ETA on the van. He’d finally assured me that the part he needed was on its way over from another town, and we’d be on the road in the morning.
So I left, but I didn’t go back to the room. I’d have to eventually. After all, this was one of those little towns that rolled up its sidewalks at night even when the weather wasn’t shit, so it was either stay outside, or go to the motel.
But I still had a few hours of daylight left, and I wasn’t in any hurry to spend them cooped up with a man who struggled to even look at me. Not until I knew what to say to make things better.
There was a diner next to the motel, so I went over there to kill some time. As luck would have it, there was an outlet at my table. Thank God, since my phone was so dead I couldn’t even switch it on. I plugged it in, then started perusing the menu. Typical diner fare. Nothing sounded good, but I ordered an apple pie and a cup of coffee to justify occupying a table.
When it came, I picked at my food. What little I’d eaten was really good, but I felt like shit. Some lingering hangover, yes, but also… Reuben. Just when I’d thought things couldn’t get any more fraught between us, they had, and now we were stuck in a room together for one more night. That was to say nothing of tomorrow’s drive. I doubted that would be pleasant. Sharing a bed with him, though? I winced. Glancing at my phone, I wondered if I’d find anyone in this area on Grindr. I could muster up the energy for sex as long as it meant staying in a different bed than the one Reuben would be sleeping in, right?
Yeah, probably not. Just walking back to the motel was going to take what little I had left.
As I nibbled another bite of my apple pie, I couldn’t help letting my mind go back to the days when things had been easy with Reuben. Back when we’d both thrilled in the excitement of a clandestine office relationship, sneaking around and stealing kisses in the supply closet or the men’s room or wherever we could have a few seconds of privacy.
Like he occasionally did, Reuben slipped into my office and shut the door behind him. “You busy?”
I looked up from my computer screen, chest fluttering at the sight of him and that wicked grin. “I’m always busy, but never too busy for you.”
“Good.” He came around the side of my desk. “Everybody thinks I’m back in the plant working on a prototype.” He turned my chair toward him and put his hands on the armrests. “Nobody will miss me for a few minutes.”
I hooked my fingers in his belt loops and drew him closer. “You assume a few minutes is enough time?”
“Enough time for me to tease you and get you all worked up for tonight, yeah.”
“Mmm, you’re a bastard.” I lifted my chin and he kissed me. “Shame I won’t have you all weekend.”
“You won’t?”
“Trade show in Atlanta. Remember?”
His smile fell. “Oh yeah. Damn.”
“And we can’t even stay up late my last night in town.” I wrinkled my nose. “I have to leave for the airport at four in the morning.”
“Four? Ugh. That’s early even for you.”
“I know, right?”
“Well.” He kissed me softly. “We’ll just call it an early night before that, and I’ll make sure you sleep like the dead.”
I shivered, my chair squeaking as if to make sure Reuben noticed. Trailing my hands up his arms, I said, “You always do.”
“Damn right. And when you get home…” He nipped at my lower lip. “I’ll be waiting with a bottle of wine.”
“And a bottle of lube?”
Reuben grinned. “Costco-sized.”
After a few more kisses and some more flirting, he left my office so nobody would get suspicious. Of course that left me with a hard-on and a big grin on my face, but I didn’t complain. His drive-by visits were always exactly what I needed to carry me through the rest of the day. Nothing made work-related stress seem less relevant than knowing Reuben wanted to get frisky that evening.
I sighed into the stillness of my office. Oh, it was going to be a good night.
In the present, I swiped at my eyes. My feelings for him ran so much deeper than I’d realized, and for some damn reason, it had taken battering ourselves emotionally for the last few weeks—and especially the last few days—for me to realize just how much I wanted him and how far out of my reach he really was. I loved Reuben so much it hurt, and I had a feeling it would still hurt to some extent even if we hadn’t fucked up in December. If things were good between us right now, and we were giving it another go as boyfriends, I could totally see myself looking at him and getting that ache in my chest because I just loved him that much.
Having that same ache while we couldn’t stand to be in the same room was fucking torture.
***
After a few hours and some various à la carte items I ate despite not wanting, I couldn’t justify hanging out at the diner any longer. I left the waitress a generous tip for putting up with me for so long, then headed out into the bitter cold. In the time I’d been sitting there feeling sorry for myself, the snow had stopped falling, but the temperature hadn’t.
I hurried across to the motel and up to our room, but despite the cold, I stood outside the door for a moment, trying to steel myself and collect myself and talk myself into walking inside. It wasn’t like I could stay out here forever, and at least the room had heat.
I took a deep breath, keyed myself in, and stepped inside, pausing to stomp the excess snow off my shoes.
Reuben was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his laptop. His expression offered nothing. “Any word on the van?”
I nodded as I deadbolted the door. “Yeah. It’ll be ready tomorrow.”
“Oh thank God. How did he pull that off? I thought he needed parts or something.”
I shifted my weight. “He does, but they’re on their way. The ones he couldn’t get his hands on were to repair the cosmetic damage and the bumper. So by tomorrow he’ll have everything he needs to make the van drivable. It just won’t be pretty until we take it to a body shop.”
“As long as it’ll get us home.” Reuben tapped his nails on the edge of the laptop. “Did he say what time he thinks it’ll be done?”
“Early afternoon, probably.”
The subtle drop in Reuben’s shoulders was hard to miss. Then again, he’d probably caught the resignation in my tone.
We’re stuck together for a while.
Reuben sighed as he closed his laptop. “It’s been a long day. Let’s just get some sleep, and tomorrow we’ll deal with getting home.”
“Good idea.” I surveyed the room. “So, how do we do this? We’ve got one bed.”
His lips quirked. He stared at
the pastel comforter like it might volunteer a solution, but the bedding didn’t have any ideas either.
“There’s an extra blanket in the closet,” I said. “Whoever sleeps on the bed can use that, and whoever takes the floor can use the comforter. The room’s warm enough for—”
“This is stupid.” His shoulders sagged and he shook his head. “Your back will never forgive you for sleeping on the floor.”
“And your neck will never let you forget it if you do. Especially after this morning.”
“Exactly.”
I raised my eyebrows. “So…?”
Reuben sighed. “Look, we’re stuck for the night. There’s only one bed.” He set his jaw and met my gaze. “We can either share the bed, or one of us can take the floor, and whoever gets the short straw is going to be miserable tomorrow.” With a heavy, resigned gesture, he motioned toward the bed. “Let’s just share it.”
Don’t sound so thrilled about getting into bed with me.
Okay, that thought wasn’t fair. We weren’t jumping between the sheets to have sex. We were just trying to make the most of a situation neither of us liked, and no, he probably wasn’t any more thrilled about sharing a bed than I was.
But sleeping on the same surface as him did sound better than making do on the floor.
So we went through the motions of getting ready for bed without saying a word or looking at each other. That had kind of been our M.O. for the whole week, but there was an undercurrent of uneasiness that hadn’t been there before. We weren’t hostile now, but we were a long way from okay.
Stripped down to our boxers, we slid into opposite sides of the bed. It was probably a decent-sized bed for most couples, but for two guys who absolutely didn’t want to touch each other, it was tiny.
Is this how straight guys feel when they have to share a bed?
The thought might’ve made me laugh any other night.
Tonight? Not so much.
Closing my eyes, I tried not to sigh with audible frustration. I’d known this was going to be a long trip, but tonight was going to be a long night.
***
With a gun to my head, I couldn’t have said if Reuben had fallen asleep. His breathing was always slow and steady in bed whether he was wide awake or out cold.
I hoped he was asleep. It wouldn’t do us any good if neither of us could function tomorrow. Me? Sleeping? Nope. I rolled over. Then again. This bed was probably comfortable as hell, but I was too tense to enjoy it. Things were too screwed up between me and Reuben. I’d been losing sleep since December anyway, and after this week, that was only going to get worse. I didn’t see any way around it. Not now that my own emotions had bubbled to the surface, keeping me from denying how much I still loved him after all this time.
Guilt was tearing me apart over what we’d done to his marriage and how much we’d fucked up our friendship. I didn’t know how to fix us, and I didn’t know how to coexist at work like this.
My chest tightened.
At work.
Oh God.
I loved my job, and I was happy at Welding & Control Equipment, but maybe it was time to move on. There were other companies within the industry who’d tried to poach me over the years. I’d made enough of a name for myself that finding a job wouldn’t be too hard, even in this economy. I might have to leave Seattle, and I might burn a few bridges within the industry—Bob Kelly did not take kindly to his people leaving for competitors—but in the end, that might be worth it.
For about two seconds, I entertained the idea of being honest with Bob and explaining I had to leave the company because I had feelings for his son that were compromising my ability to do my job.
But no. Everyone knew I was queer, but Reuben wasn’t out, and there was no way in hell I would out him. As it was, him being in the closet had been part of what had driven us apart six years ago. The secrecy had been thrilling at first, but it had quickly become a source of stress for both of us. That, and he hadn’t been able to cope with his fear of coming out to his father and potentially torpedoing our jobs. Or more to the point, torpedoing my job, since he’d been convinced Bob would can me over him out of nepotism. We both knew now that our boss was way more cutthroat than that, and he’d either fire both of us or whoever the company could more easily live without. And if I was honest, I didn’t know which of us would draw the short straw in that situation—Reuben was a critical member of the engineering team, and I didn’t shy away from acknowledging that I was equally critical to the marketing department.
It didn’t really matter now anyway. We weren’t together anymore. We couldn’t be together.
As for work, well, I’d deal with that when I got there. Right now… sleep. I needed to fucking sleep, even if that seemed impossible with Reuben lying this close to me and this far away at the same time.
I closed my eyes and exhaled into the silence of the room. Tomorrow, we’d get back to Seattle. The day after that, we’d be back at work.
And when I got home that night, I’d start polishing up my résumé.
Chapter 17
Reuben
Surprise, surprise—I couldn’t sleep for shit. I’d dozed off for a while, but now it was damn near three in the morning and I’d been wide awake for hours.
It didn’t help that Marcus kept moving. This wasn’t one of those fancy mattresses with the commercials where the lady jumped on one side and the wineglass on the other didn’t spill. Every move he made registered like I was a seismograph specifically calibrated to pick up every twitch and tremor.
I wanted to be frustrated with him, but I couldn’t be. We were stuck in this situation together, and he was probably as stressed about it as I was. He’d managed to go to sleep and stay that way, so he had one up on me, but I doubted he was all that relaxed. Though Marcus had always been a restless sleeper, he was practically vibrating now. Not just shifting, tossing, and turning, but thrumming with tension.
Guilt burned in my chest. He wouldn’t be tense or stressed if I weren’t in this bed with him. Maybe I should have taken the floor after all. Or… something.
Like maybe not having sex with him, not letting things get weird with him, and not losing so much sleep you crashed the van and got stuck with him?
The thought made me wince. Hadn’t there been a time when sex had been easy for us? Okay, so the sex had definitely been easy. It was the aftermath that was the problem.
A million miles away on the other side of the bed, Marcus sighed heavily in his sleep and rolled over. His foot kept moving, rubbing against the sheet with a quiet whisper, the motion carrying to all four corners of the stupid mattress. He mumbled something into his pillow. Rolled over again. Sighed. He still sounded like he was asleep, but I still doubted it was restful.
I didn’t want it to, but a memory surfaced. One from when we’d been dating, and we’d spent more nights together than not. His place, my place, sex, no sex—the vast majority of nights found us sleeping side by side. And when he was stressed out—some bullshit at work, another argument with his mom—he’d move around constantly… until I curled up against him.
My throat ached. What I wouldn’t have given to be able to do that for him now. Just slide up next to him, wrap my arms around him, and silently soothe him enough that he could get some sleep.
So… what’s stopping you?
The thought made me jump. What was stopping me? Oh, I didn’t know. Maybe the fact that I was the reason he was so restless?
I turned my head and watched him in the darkness as he fidgeted again.
Any reason I couldn’t be the cause and the cure? It could make things worse between us, but they were already shitty. If there was some chance I could make them better, even if it was just for the night…
Didn’t really have much to lose at this point, did I?
I casually turned over, closing some of the space between us. Paused. Waited. My heart was pounding, but I reminded myself it wasn’t likely he’d actually hear it or—once we were tou
ching—feel it. For all he’d know, I’d moved in my sleep. Unconsciously. Accidentally.
Hoping like hell I wasn’t about to ignite a battle or some fresh awkwardness, I inched closer. Then closer still.
We finally made contact when my shoulder landed gently against his back and my hip nudged his ass. He didn’t recoil. He didn’t tense or anything. In fact, he seemed to settle a bit.
I considered staying just like this instead of pushing my luck, but now that I could really feel his body heat, it was impossible to resist moving in closer.
Cautiously, I slid toward him. When he didn’t resist, I rolled onto my side, molded myself to him, and draped an arm over him.
Marcus made a soft noise. A wordless murmur. Then his hand moved, fumbled a little beneath the covers, and found mine. For a split second, I had visions of him shoving my arm—and me—off him.
But then he closed his fingers around my hand and brought it up to his chest, tucking my arm under his elbow in the process. His breathing slowed again, and in no time, he was well and truly asleep.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose, indulging in a taste of that familiar scent. Though I was pressed up against him, I wasn’t worried about an ill-timed hard-on making things weird; I was still way too wound up and exhausted to get turned on. I wasn’t too far gone to let this wave of relief wash over me, though, and I just held him close and savored his familiar shape against me. This was one of the things I’d missed the most after we’d split up—falling asleep to the warmth of our bodies pressed together.
I wished it was this easy in the daylight. As soon as the sun came up, everything between us would be a minefield again, but in the darkness, all the mines weren’t just hidden. They were gone. Like this, it was easy to say everything because I didn’t have to say anything. All I had to do was touch him and hold him the way I had years ago, and we’d both be calm enough to sleep. Why wasn’t there a way to do this when the lights were on?