“Reed.” Nate caught his wrists and stilled him.
Reed drew away, searching Nate’s face with a worried gaze. Before Nate could explain, he doubled over and sneezed into his elbow.
“I’m itchy and gross.” Nate sidestepped Reed with a thin laugh. He wanted nothing but more kisses.Wanted. He shook with it, feverish inside. “Let me get clean.”
Reed continued climbing the stairs as if nothing terrifying had happened, but his voice was hoarse when he asked, “Any soap up there?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” Nate said, grateful for another sneeze that hid his stutter.
What would happen after he took a shower? More kissing? He’d have to tell Reed to stop, eventually. That this wasn’t right—not when Reed didn’t trust him, and he didn’t deserve Reed’s trust.
But he wanted to try it again. As soon as possible.
When he wasn’t stinging all over from insulation dust.
“Why did you do that?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking. From needing to know. “You made me stop before.”
“Because you didn’t know what you were doing. You were bleeding, you were—”
“I know what I want!” Shocked by his own outburst, Nate lowered his voice. “I knew what I was doing. It wasn’t the first time I wanted to kiss you.”
Reed went still at the door to the next floor. He leaned back against it, letting it catch his weight, and placed his hand at his side. “I know what I want too,” he said very softly.
With Reed close and quiet, Nate was struck by the vivid green of his eyes. And the exhaustion in them. A tender ache formed at the flat of his belly, and he didn’t know how to ease it. But he knew he wanted to take Reed’s hand and hold it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not sure if it was for lying to him or for needing him.
A crease of hurt formed around Reed’s pretty eyes. He recovered with a faint, tired smile. “Wishes,” he said. “You first.”
Hating the small, prickly space between them, Nate brushed his knuckles against Reed’s hand. He gasped when Reed clasped their fingers together. “A hot bath. Big enough to dunk my whole body in.”
“New boots that don’t pinch.” Reed’s thumb brushed over the back of Nate’s hand.
Nate tried to remember how to talk. “Sausages. With city meat—not gull.”
“You are always thinking about food,” Reed said with a soft grin. They were close enough to kiss again, but it was an easy closeness. “Let’s go.”
Their hands unclasped. Everyone in the Withers was careful about showing affection in front of others. If people knew who you cared about, they’d have a way to control you.
Reed lingered, close enough for Nate to feel his breath stir Nate’s hair. “Come on,” he said reluctantly, pushing the door open to reveal the men’s showers. The lines between men and women weren’t drawn too firmly in the bank—or anywhere else in the Withers—but Nate didn’t see any women or children. He wondered briefly if Sparks had any trouble at the women’s showers the next room over and figured she must be okay if she hadn’t said anything.
“Come on.” Nate’s heart still beat too fast, thumping against his ribs. “Your turn. More wishes.”
They took their places in line for the three showers, boots squelching in the standing water on the concrete floor. The showers were faucets rigged to the rain barrels on the roof, with very little pressure and no heat. Each man hung his clothes on a wire rack and scrubbed down quickly in the frigid water.
“Real soap,” Reed said. “The kind my mom used to have. It smelled like flowers.”
“That’d be a welcome change,” Nate said.
Reed turned, grinning, and punched Nate’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t call your natural aroma pleasant either.”
“What? I’m very pleasant.” Nate wiped his nose again and pretended to smell his own armpit. In truth, he smelled pretty bad and looked forward to the shower, cold or not.
“Wishes,” Reed reminded him in a whisper, shuffling forward as the line moved. They were at the end of the line. The others waited silently, shoulders tense and elbows out. Nate tried to imagine being there without Reed and shivered. He’d rather stink for days than brave taking his boots off without someone else to guard them.
“Wishes. . .” he repeated, touching his lips absently. What had Reed’s kiss meant? What did Reed really want?
It didn’t make any sense. Nate was a problem—sick, untrustworthy, and too loyal to a chem pusher. He’d almost gotten all of them killed.
