“Rules?”
Jag turned slowly, his mouth quivering as though he were regretting what he’d said. “They keep me safe.”
Michael frowned.
“And one of those rules is that I have to keep moving because if I don’t—” Jag snapped his mouth shut and clenched his teeth.
Michael moved closer and threaded his fingers through Jag’s, squeezing gently.
Jag breathed in and out a couple of times. “My life won’t be worth living if—” He bit his lip and shook his head. “God, Michael, I can’t.”
“Stay?”
“Or explain.” He inhaled sharply. “Rule number two: tell no one.”
“Why?” Michael needed to understand. The fear in Jag’s large, dark eyes was so ingrained it bordered on terror.
“I did once,” Jag whispered. “I trusted someone with it all, and he betrayed me.”
Michael’s chest clenched. “I wouldn’t.”
Jag’s expression dropped further, fear giving way to sadness in his eyes. “I want to believe that.”
“But you can’t?” Michael realised how stiff his words had come out.
Jag hung his head. “I’m sorry.” He tried to tug his hand free, but Michael held on. “I wish I could trust you. I want to be able to trust you.”
Michael didn’t know whether to be pissed off or drag Jag into his arms. His lover’s words hurt. They cut into his soul, making a mockery of Jag’s admission of love. He could see how desperately conflicted Jag was. He bit down his anger, set the shopping bag down, and pulled Jag to him, holding him and kissing him because it was the only thing he could think to do. He couldn’t take Jag’s pain away. He couldn’t make it any easier for the young man to trust anyone, let alone him. And if Jag’s assertions were true, he couldn’t make his world a safe place where he didn’t have to run.
“I’m sorry,” Jag whispered.
“I just wish you could trust me.”
He didn’t think he’d done anything that would make Jag doubt him, but he wasn’t conceited enough to believe Jag’s distrust had anything to do with him. He was simply the one who had to bear the brunt of that distrust and decide if he could accept it or not.
Jag moistened his lips. “So do I, Michael.” He smiled apologetically. “If it helps, I have broken one of my rules for you.”
Michael raised his eyebrows.
“Rule number four: don’t get attached to anyone.”
Michael swallowed. “Do you regret it?”
“No.” Jag dipped his gaze. “But I will when I leave.”
“Is that why rule number four exists?” Michael asked. “Because it makes it too hard to leave?” He wondered how many rules Jag had.
“Yes.”
“How much longer can you stay?”
Jag shrugged. “Not long. A few more weeks, maybe.” He touched his fingers to Michael’s face. “Can’t we just enjoy the time we do have, as we said we would? Knowing why I have to leave won’t change the fact that I do have to. So can we stop talking about it? Never mention it again?”
Michael stiffened. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can.”
Jag’s face paled further. His body became rigid, and he dragged himself away from Michael. “I should go.”
“Jag—”
