“Michael…” He stared into Michael’s eyes, silently pleading with him to stop pushing. “I’m enjoying fooling around with you, but that’s all it is. I don’t want anything more. I need to know you feel the same way.”
Michael hesitated a little too long before replying. “I’m happy just having sex with you. No more questions.”
Jag latched on to the words rather than the expression on Michael’s face. His life was lonely enough as it was without giving up this fleeting affair. He knew he was lying to himself by believing Michael’s words. They obviously weren’t true. Michael wanted more, which was completely misguided of him, but he would lie to himself. He’d pretend that Michael was happy with nothing more than sex. It was selfish, but he’d be walking away soon, and then he could pretend the hurt that would reside in Michael’s eyes didn’t exist.
11Michael
Michael had never dated anyone who was such a closed book before. He drew in a breath, running his finger around the top of the coffee mug he was holding, as he reminded himself that he and Jagweren’tdating. They were just having sex. Great, no-strings sex. Except… he found everything about the young man intriguing. It was probably because Jag was so tight-lipped. No, that wasn’t right; he was downright secretive. Their conversation the previous night had proven that. Yet between the difficult silences and Jag’s avoidances, they’d been getting along as two people rather than just fuck buddies.
“Hey, boss,” Mac said as he jogged down the stairs into the club. Like Michael, he was dressed in a tracksuit, ready for a few hours of running pole dancing fitness classes. “You look thoughtful.” Mac sat on the next barstool along.
“Just thinking.” He sighed.
“Dangerous thing, that.” Mac grinned.
“Ha-ha.” Michael cupped his mug in both hands and sipped from it. He took his coffee black, and after the ridiculously late nights he’d been having recently, he needed it as strong as possible in order to wake up in time to teach.
“Anything I can help with?” Mac asked.
“How much do you know about Jag?”
Mac grinned. “Shouldn’t you have asked that question before you fucked him?”
Michael shot him a glare, not that it stopped Mac from grinning.
“Not much,” he told Michael. “He dances well. Gets on with the other guys, but doesn’t say much about himself.” He nudged Michael in the ribs with his elbow. “Surely you know more about him? You two are still screwing around, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Michael said before drinking another sip of coffee. “I know what turns him on, but I don’t know the first thing abouthim.” He chuckled. “Except that he prefers Superman over Batman.”
Mac stared at him for a moment. “I don’t even want to know how you found that out.”
“Long story.” He set the coffee mug down and began to twirl a beer mat around the bar with his forefinger.
“You like him, don’t you?” Mac asked quietly.
“I’m not supposed to.” Michael stilled his finger, staring at the beer mat for a few seconds. “He’s made it really clear that it’s nothing more than sex.” He spun the beer mat around again, watching as the bright red-and-yellow design blurred hypnotically.
“But…you’re not okay with that anymore?”
Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought I could handle it, but it’s hard to be so intimate with someone so often and not feel something, you know?”
Mac raised an eyebrow. “You two are going at it like rabbits, then?”
Michael snorted. “You could say that.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much sex, but he wasn’t going to share that detail with his friend.
“Why don’t you tell him you want more?”
“Because I’m pretty sure he’ll run a mile. Away from me, away from here…”
Mac shifted, turning on his stool so he could face Michael head-on. “What makes you say that?”
“I just… I don’t know. He gets so… rigid… when I ask him anything. I thought we were getting somewhere last night, that he was actually letting his shield down, and then he clammed right up again without any warning.”
“You think he’s hiding something?”
“Yeah, I do.” Michael scratched his jaw. “But it’s more than that, Mac. I think he’s in some kind of trouble.” He twisted his hand round to the back of his neck and bowed his head. He couldn’t think of a better explanation for Jag’s paranoid secrecy. “But if he won’t talk to me… how can I help him?”
“Give it time,” Mac said, squeezing Michael’s shoulder. “As you said, you’ve only been fucking for a couple of weeks, and he didn’t turn up here long before that. If he is in some kind of trouble, it’s going to take a whole lot longer than three weeks for him to start trusting you.”
