by E M Lindsey
“I don’t have to explain why,” James told him. He used one hand to pries the kid’s hand away, then he spread his legs a bit to gain better balance.
Colin didn’t seem to take the hint. He was either too bold or too drunk, neither of those things working in his favor, and he stepped up so his torso was pressed to James’. “I got a hotel not far from here. You wanna take this back there?”
“No,” James said. For a myriad of reasons, but the main one being he wasn’t about to lose his virginity after all this fucking time to some backwoods hick who thought, ‘take this back to my place’, was a decent line. “You should go sleep it off, though. Don’t you have a long drive in the morning?”
Instead of stepping back, Colin shoved his knee between James’ legs. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to send him completely off balance. He was hit by a sudden wave of panic, a shout in his head that sounded suspiciously like his father. “Sinner! Fag! Hell-bound!” James gasped, and tried to pull back from Colin, but the guy held him by the front of his shirt.
“Don’t be a fucking pussy, dude. You were gagging for it back there.”
James felt nausea clench his stomach, and he tried to push back, but Colin wasn’t having it. “Fuck you,” he spat, but he couldn’t seem to make his arms goddamn move. He felt a rush of self-hatred at what a coward he was, at how weak he was. He tried to get Colin off him again, but the guy just shoved at him, knocking his right leg to the side. His knee wrenched and he felt it start to give. Before he could topple over, a hand shot out and steadied him, and Colin went stumbling back.
“I think you should probably go.” It was Rowan, looking seconds away from actual murder. James tried to shake off his buzz as he watched Colin stand up straight.
“This ain’t none of your business,” Colin spat.
“As a well-connected attorney, sexual assault is, in fact, my business.” Rowan lifted a brow, and James nearly laughed in spite of feeling a surge of humiliation that he needed to be rescued from some out-of-town twink. He was better than that—stronger, braver, dangerous if he really wanted to be. James never backed down in a fight, but this wasn’t the first time he’d been reduced to a shaking mess when someone got too handsy.
It was probably why he could barely touch his own dick, let alone tolerate an anonymous stranger going anywhere near it. He felt like he was cursed, and his anger and embarrassment started to settle in.
“I didn’t ask for your fucking help,” James spat when Colin slunk just out of earshot.
Rowan gently withdrew his hand once James had his balance back, and he shoved it into his pocket. “I know. I’m sorry.”
James wasn’t expecting that at all. This wasn’t the first time James’ embarrassment had him lashing out. He’d been pulled out of the fire by strangers before, and he reacted the same damn way. But the dudes who chased off handsy pricks always got defensive. They expected him to be grateful, and he could never pull himself out of his humiliation long enough to feel any sort of gratitude.
“I could have handled him,” he went on.
Rowan just nodded. “I know. I panicked, and it’s entirely my issue.”
All of James’ anger drained away, leaving him exhausted and sore. His knees were not going to thank him in the morning, and he had a feeling he’d be using ice and his wheelchair for at least twenty-four hours. All because these pricks couldn’t take no for a god damn answer.
“Sorry for snapping,” James said after a beat. “I’m a little drunk, and that guy caught me off-guard.”
“That dude is a fucking sexual predator,” Rowan spat, then took a breath. “Sorry. Again.”
James was honestly too startled to get worked up again, and he shook his head. “It’s fine. Uh…” Rubbing the back of his neck, he eyed the man and recalled the awkward exchange not two hours before when Niko had rushed off into his uber, and Sam decided to drown his bad decisions in a few pitchers of Ruby’s house lager. “Are you okay? You know, like, from earlier tonight? With Sam and Niko?”
Rowan blinked at him, then let out a tiny laugh. “I’m all good. It’s been a weird night, but I’ve had weirder—if you can believe it.”
James gave him a half smile. “You’ve been in our little town long enough, you know I can.”
Rowan grinned back, and James felt something light and soft settle over him. It was unexpected, and he found himself wanting to cling to it. “Can I offer you a ride home? I have a to get back to my place for a client meeting first thing, but you’re on my way.”
James lifted a brow. “You know where I live?”
“Everywhere here is on my way,” Rowan said dryly. “The town is barely five miles long, including the backwoods parts.”
James couldn’t exactly argue with that, and in all honesty, the last thing he wanted to do was go back into the bar and have to explain how the night had gone so badly so fast. It was difficult enough keeping up appearances and letting the guys assume he was getting laid night after night, but it wasn’t easy to make up excuses when the guy James had been flirting with had obviously wanted it. “I don’t want to leave my truck,” he confessed after a beat. He rubbed the back of his neck, then tried to take a step, but fell back against the wall again as his knee gave out. “Fuck!”
Rowan was there with a steady arm around his waist, and James leaned into him in spite of how much he hated it. “Let me drive it? I can grab a car back here to pick up mine later, but you smell like booze and I don’t think you’re in any real condition to drive. Unless you want me to grab one of your friends?”
James shook his head before he could really process what Rowan was offering. “No.” Because they’d fuss, and they’d worry, and they’d make a big deal and want to hunt that little asshole down. He just didn’t have the capacity to deal with their brand of love right then. “I’ll…shit. Yeah. If you wouldn’t mind?”
Rowan nodded, hitching James a little closer and helping to take some of the weight off his prosthetics. It didn’t do much to ease the pain, but it allowed him to walk as he pointed them in the direction of his pick-up, and he dug his keys out of his pocket and hit the button to unlock the doors.
Rowan stayed close as James heaved himself into the passenger seat, then sat back as he felt a wave of near-painful relief as the pressure totally eased off his stumps. His thighs tingled, a burning sensation grew in the ghost of his feet, and he quickly closed his eyes and pictured his toes. Tensing his muscles in a way that would have curled them, the sensation began to ease, and eventually faded into nothing just as Rowan opened the driver’s door.
“Um,” Rowan said.
James looked over with a frown, and saw Rowan staring at the floor. “Oh, shit. It’s a pedal guard. Just like…shove your finger into that little hole and pull up. It comes off.”
Rowan obeyed, though he seemed confused until he set the guard aside and slipped onto the seat. His hand brushed over James’ hand controls. “Should I use these?”
James laughed, mostly from the alcohol, and a little from the endorphin crash which only made his buzz feel worse. “Hell no. Tony tried once and almost killed himself. It’s not as easy as it looks.”
Rowan huffed, but he smiled a little as he pushed the key into the ignition and switched the engine on. He adjusted his seat, then pulled out onto the main road. “Are you sober enough to give me directions?”
James gave him a look, even though Rowan was watching the road with a singular focus. “I’m not wasted. I got a buzz on, but it was that asshole who got me all fucked up. Take a left here,” he directed.
Rowan obeyed, taking a gentle turn as a tendon in his jaw went tight. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
James waved him off. “I’m sure Sam told you what a slut I am, and I’m pretty sure that guy heard all about it.”
Rowan gripped the wheel tight and glanced over with a ferocity James wasn’t expecting. “It doesn’t matter how many people you’ve slept with. He was still an asshole.”
> James’ laugh was tight, damn near hysterical, and he felt a sudden and almost unbearable urge to confess the truth to this total stranger. “He was. He was such a fuckin’ asshole.”
Rowan didn’t say anything until they pulled down the barely maintained road that led directly to James’ driveway. “Are you okay?” His question was soft, almost hesitant, and full of a genuine concern James was unused to from strangers. Especially strangers in expensive designer suits who took big law cases.
“You know, I think I am. Thanks for driving me. The guys could have, but I didn’t want to deal with explaining myself.” He dragged a hand down his face, gesturing to his house with the other. “This is me.”
“This is nice,” Rowan said as he rolled to a stop. He put the truck in park, but made no move to get out. “You own or rent?”
“Inherited,” James said as he fiddled with the belt buckle. “My uncle died. He was the only other queer in the family, and I guess he thought I could use it.” He laughed quietly. “He wasn’t wrong.”
Rowan looked at him again, but didn’t press for more details, and James felt a rush of profound gratitude. “Let me help you inside,” he eventually offered.
James wanted to refuse him. Hell, it was only a few steps, but even trying to put weight on his knees sent shooting pains all the way up his back, and he knew he wouldn’t get far. Luckily, his chair was in the living room, which was less than a hundred feet inside, and he could take it from there.
“Thanks,” he muttered as Rowan bore his weight. He eased down from the cab, then leaned heavily on the other man. “This doesn’t usually happen, but he had me in a weird position and got my knee’s all fucked up.”
“I get it,” Rowan said.
James lifted a brow as they made it up the porch ramp. “You an amputee?”
Rowan shook his head. “No. My mom has MS, and she wore braces for a while. They helped, but she took a couple of hard falls that wrenched her knees because of the way she’d been standing. It was pretty awful.”
James didn’t really know what to say, so he just unlocked the door and let Rowan get him to the sofa. He leaned back, then carefully pushed the sides to release the suction on the sockets. The moment the pressure released, he felt another white-hot rush of pain, and he squeezed his eyes against it. He could feel the ache in his knees, the heavy feeling that told him they’d be swollen as hell tomorrow, and useless for a few days.
“You need ice,” Rowan said after a moment.
James peered one eye open at him, his hand absently massaging the end of his left stump which was the least sensitive. “Freezer. Just grab a couple bags of peas.”
Rowan chuckled, nodding as he wandered off to find the kitchen, and James continued to massage until he heard Rowan’s footsteps on the wooden floors. “Do you want me to wrap them in anything?”
“Nah,” James said, making grabby hands. Rowan passed them over, and he eased the cold onto the swelling flesh with a slow hiss of breath. It was a lot for a brief moment, and then the numbness seeped in and the pain began to draw back. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to do all this.”
“I know,” Rowan told him. “But it seems like everyone’s had a shitty night, and I was available to help.” He sat down two spaces away, then tapped on his phone a moment. “My car will be here in eight minutes.”
James grimaced. “I’m sorry to make you do that.”
Rowan waved him off. “I’m sorry some guy fucked up your knees.”
“I’ve had worse,” James said. “One time I fell out of a plane and lost both my legs.”
Rowan blinked at him, then burst into laughter. “Wow. Okay, fair.”
James grinned toothily and stretched one arm out along the back of the sofa. “Did Sam apologize for being a dick earlier?” James thought back to the awkward meeting outside. Rowan had clearly been trying to score with Niko, and as much as Sam was trying to deny how much he was in love with the guy, his actions showed otherwise. The whole thing had been mortifying for everyone there, but Niko looked devastated as he took off, and Rowan looked like he wanted to melt into the sidewalk.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Rowan shrugged and shook his head. “He didn’t say much of anything. He avoided eye contact when I went in to pay the bill.”
James shifted and adjusted the ice packs so they stayed balanced, then looked at Rowan. “He’s a good guy. The thing with Niko…”
“Oh, Niko made it clear things were complicated,” Rowan said in a rush. “He wasn’t going home with me. I was just walking him out and making sure he was okay because he looked a little rough.”
James grimaced. “I hope Sammy gets his shit together soon, though I’m not exactly one to talk. Sorry you got cockblocked by all their issues, though.”
Rowan chuckled again, shrugging. “It’s fine. I’m sorry you got cock-blocked tonight by the guy being an asshole.”
James felt that same desire to confess the truth again. The burden of secrets was a heavy one, suffocating some days when he just wanted people to know. Trusting Mat with it helped sometimes, but it wasn’t always enough. He never felt like himself, still felt like he was living in a damn closet, barricaded by the existential threats of hell and his father’s promises that he’d burn for eternity for being born the way he was.
“Can I text you sometime?” James asked suddenly.
Rowan looked startled. “Uh…”
“I know you’re Sam’s lawyer, so if there’s like a morality clause thing,” James started.
Rowan shook his head. “No. It’s not that.”
James looked down at his stumps, then at the ink covering his left arm, and he had to laugh. “Right. I totally get it. Someone like me ain’t your type. I swear I won’t judge you for it.”
The rest of James’ words died in his throat when Rowan’s hand came down onto his thigh, a tentative press above the spot where the peas were gently numbing him. “I didn’t say that, either. But you’re kind of buzzed, and I know that guy did a number on your head.”
Licking his lips, James shrugged. “Just friends, maybe? I think that’s all I’d be good for anyway, and the rest of my issues complicate things and I don’t really date. But you were ready to fuck that guy up for what he did, and I like that in a person.”
There was a flash of disappointment in Rowan’s eyes, but it didn’t stop him from handing his phone over. “Why don’t I text you,” he said as James’ shaking fingers began to tap his number in. “And I understand if this isn’t your type either.” He waved his hand at himself as if it explained why James would somehow be uninterested in a guy that gorgeous and that well put together.
James swallowed thickly, looking up for as long as he was brave enough to hold eye contact. “Believe me, you bein’ you ain’t got shit to do with it. You’re all kinds of hot and I’m… yeah. I’m into you. Just…it’s complicated.”
Rowan’s phone beeped and he quickly stood. “My car’s here. But talk soon?”
“Yes. Yeah,” James told him. “For sure.”
Rowan gave him a long, careful look James couldn’t entirely read, then nodded and showed himself out. When the door shut, James’ head fell back against the cushions and he listened for the crunch of gravel on the driveway as the car pulled away. His own phone was in his pocket, deathly silent, and he almost laughed at himself for being so stupid.
There was no way a guy like that would be into him. He was a broken mess—far more than just his body. Even if Rowan was interested now, the moment he found out the truth, he’d go running. Virgins weren’t a commodity anymore. They were a risk, they were a stigma. James was closer to forty than he ever wanted to be without having his dick touched, and it wasn’t even necessarily a relationship he wanted.
He was just tired of being this. He wanted it to stop, but he wanted it with someone he could trust. There in lied the crux, because James trusted no one. Well, almost no one. And those he did were family. He couldn’t bring himself to go there, and it wa
s nothing more than a vicious cycle.
His phone buzzed, startling him out of his thoughts, and he honestly didn’t know if he was brave enough to look. His phone buzzed a second time, and then a third. “Fuck,” he breathed out. He shifted around to stretch his legs out along the cushions, readjusting his peas, then finally dug it out of his pocket and stared at the screen.
* * *
(3) new messages
Unknown Number: It’s Rowan. Sorry I ran out. It wasn’t personal.
* * *
Unknown Number: Things are kind of complicated with my work and everything. It’s not about Sam, it’s about my ability to manage my time without hurting people.
* * *
Unknown Number: The only reason I talked to Niko was because he looked like he might be cool with a hook-up. I want you. But I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to make you feel the way that guy did.
James laughed, only because he couldn’t help it. Buzzed or not, he knew Rowan was nothing like the douche at the bar. Rowan was different. Rowan made him feel something no one else ever had—a sense of safety.
James: I don’t think you could ever be like him. I’m not worried about that, but there’s something you should probably know about me, and it’s something only one other person knows—and I’m including the guys in the shop with that.
* * *
James: I’m a virgin.
Chapter Three
I’m a virgin.
The words from the text kept popping up behind his eyelids every time Rowan blinked. It was poor timing, considering he was in the middle of a mediation between two blind parents and the legal rep for CPS after their child had been taken at the hospital. Rowan knew he was winning this one. A nurse had reported the couple after the father had struggled with the diaper during the first change. No documented injury, and both parents had taken parenting classes prior to the birth. It was just the agency over-stepping again, and people convincing themselves that their actions were well-meaning instead of ableist and cruel.