“You know me too well.”
“Some things never change.”
“I have. A bit.” I screwed up my courage. “Enough to say sorry for how things went down with Zachary. I didn’t mean to ice you off the ranch. I should’ve given some thought to how you were feeling. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, no, papi, none of that was your fault.”
I huffed a breath at the obvious lie.
“I mean it.” Miguel lowered his tone. “Seth. Listen up, okay, because I’m only going to say this once. That day was a shit show, but Zachary fucked up, and so did I. I knew I was distracting you. Should’ve been smart enough to know it was the wrong time to flirt. My fault.”
“I liked being distracted by you, though. Having you flirt with me was exciting.” Sometimes annoying, or frustrating when we were working, but I’d never complained.
“Yeah, and I loved the power of making you look at me even when you didn’t want to.”
“Huh?”
Miguel sighed. “Listen, I liked you, okay? A lot. But the best part was having the power to wind you up, to make you hot, inpublic even. This cool, shy cowboy, breaking out of his shell for me.”
“I wasn’t shy.”
“Reserved, then.”
“I guess.” I couldn’t really argue with that. Keeping quiet and staying aloof had always felt safer. Miguel had made me brave enough to come out, when I’d been hiding a big part of myself.
Miguel continued, “You know I had a rough time at home as a kid, right?”
“Yeah.” I remembered his nightmares, and the picture I’d gleaned from what little he’d said. I’d been proud when he’d let me hold him afterward, but he’d never tolerated my reassurances for long.
He cleared his throat. “So, one of the toughest things about having a bad parent is, as a kid, you don’t have control. No control over your life, no control of what happens to your body, your pain. Stop means nothing. Yes and no mean nothing. Things happen to you and you can’t stop them.”
“I’m sorry.” My heart ached for him, for every kid trapped like that.
Miguel sighed. “I’m not saying this for sympathy. I’m explaining. Back when I met you, when I began sleeping with you, I was still hungry for control. I didn’t want to be like my father, or hurt anyone, but Ilovedto make men want me, make an effort to be with me. It was the greatest feeling of power to make a guy chase me across the dance floor and get on his knees, or to make you stop stacking hay bales and just stare at me with your mouth open. I could say yes, or I could say no, and men obeyed me. No asking, no begging. I could make a closeted cowboy like you want me so much you’d do stuff you’d never done before.”
“You sure did,” I admitted. Hearing how it’d meant much less to him than me stung, but I didn’t regret those days. “I wanted to, though. I’m glad I came out. I enjoyed being with you.”
“Yeah. We were hot for each other. But I could tell you were looking for more than that, weren’t you?”
I swallowed, not wanting to admit he was right. “You told me the score, right from the start. Casual. Not exclusive.” Whatever dreams I’d had were my own problem. Miguel had never led me on.
Miguel hummed under his breath, a small, achingly familiar sound. “Except it killed you to watch me hook my finger in some stud’s collar and pull him into the bathroom to blow me, didn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say killed.” I hadn’t liked those nights, watching Miguel flirt and smile and land another stranger willing to worship his dick, but I was the guy he went home with.
“Okay, mild exaggeration. Fact stands. We were a terrible match. Then I flirted with you at exactly the wrong moment, Zachary fucked up, and suddenly Copper was dead, Zach was fucked to hell, and you? You were beating yourself up and refusing to look me in the eye.”
That was a pretty good summary. “I didn’t blame you,” I said, tasting the lie.
“I blamed myself. I played with you for the feeling of power it gave me, and disaster happened.”
“I think all three of us contributed to that disaster,” I pointed out, and realized I truly believed that for the first time.
Miguel barked a laugh that held very little humor. “Yeah. Agreed. But I was fucked up over it, almost as bad as you were. I couldn’t look at you either, feeling sick over what I’d done. I needed to get off the ranch.”
“And you had that job offer.”
Miguel snorted. “Heh. I lied about that. Didn’t want your overdeveloped sense of responsibility interfering.”
