“Phone calls,” Michael said, pointing to the door. He walked out of it a moment later, after allowing himself a few seconds to gaze at Jag as he started washing up. He’d never thought anyone could be sexy doing such a mundane task, but Jag managed it.
He called his own solicitor first, knowing he wouldn’t be able to help but hoping he would recommend someone who could. He understood Jag’s fear, but he wasn’t sure how realistic a concern it was. Could Jag’s parents really section him and take him back to the hell he’d escaped from? He shuddered at the thought. What he hoped was that a solicitor could set Jag’s fears aside and, if not, could defend his rights if his parents did try to pull that shit. Either way, he was determined that Jag wouldn’t have to run anymore.
He spent so long on the phone that he had to text Mac and ask him to handle the exercise classes alone. Jag sat beside him, embracing him whilst he sat on hold and chatted to receptionists, legal secretaries, and solicitors. Finally, he put the phone down, triumphant.
“Okay, I’ve found someone who can see you tomorrow to talk things through and tell you where you stand.”
“Tomorrow?” Jag echoed, his pupils shrinking.
Michael squeezed his hand. “Sorry, am I moving this idea along too fast?”
“No.” Jag didn’t sound certain at all. “It’s just… I’ll have to tell them…” He huffed out a breath. “It was hard enough telling you.”
“You don’t have to tell them everything,” Michael said. “And everything you do say will be confidential, whether you hire her or not.”
“Her?”
“Yes. Isthatokay?”
Jag nodded. His stare became unfocused and distant, as though he were lost in his thoughts. Michael wasn’t sure if he should disturb him or simply stay still and wait for Jag to come around again. But then Jag blinked and smiled, tightening his grip around Michael’s waist.
“Thanks for thinking this up and sorting it out,” he said. “I was so lost in my belief that they could throw me into that place again that I didn’t dare to believe I could do something to stop them.”
“Belief is a powerful thing,” Michael murmured.
“Yeah. It is.” Jag raised his hand, pressing his warm palm against Michael’s cheek. “Thank you for giving me a chance to believe that I can break free of this nightmare.”
“I hope it hasn’t all been a nightmare,” Michael said.
Jag smiled. “No. Not all of it.” He tilted his head, his dark eyes staring into Michael’s. “Some of it has been pretty amazing.”
“Really?” Michael leant his face closer, pressing his cheek against Jag’s palm.
“Yeah.”
Michael’s eyes drifted shut as they kissed. He could lose himself in Jag so easily it almost scared him.
“Don’t you have classes to teach?” Jag asked.
“Mac is covering for me.” He brushed his hand over Jag’s knee and up his thigh to rest on his hip. “So I have the whole afternoon off.”
“You’re sure Mac won’t mind?”
Michael shrugged. “It’s what I pay him for.”
“To teach classes whilst you fuck?”
Michael pursed his lips. “Is that what we’re going to do?”
“I sure hope so.”
Michael tangled his free hand in Jag’s hair before kissing him again. His mouth pressed against Jag’s urgently. He moved his hand from Jag’s hip, slipping beneath the young man’s T-shirt so he could caress his skin. It was hard to believe that Jag could love so passionately despite everything he’d been through. He sucked Jag’s lower lip into his mouth and then released it, sitting back so he could stare at the young man lovingly.
“You’re not broken.”
Jag’s eyes filled with sadness, his lips, moist and glistening from Michael’s kisses, downturned. “Yes, I am. But I think you’re putting me back together again, bit by bit.”
Michael shook his head. “No. I’m helping you put yourself back together.”
