Jasper’s eyes were serious now. Clear. No performance.
“I do not want a distraction,” Jasper continued. “I do not want an experiment. I am not interested in being someone’s secret.”
Bennett’s pulse thundered. “I am not saying you would be.”
“You don’t have to say it,” Jasper replied. “I can hear it in the way you keep trying to turn this into something small.”
Bennett’s chest ached. “You’re the one making it bigger.”
Jasper leaned forward slightly. “I’m making it honest.”
Bennett’s mouth went dry. “I don’t know how to do that.”
Jasper’s expression softened. “You do. You’re just terrified.”
Bennett gave a sharp laugh that sounded wrong. “I am not terrified.”
Jasper’s voice dropped. “Then look at me and tell me you do not want this.”
Bennett’s body went still. His mind scrambled for escape routes, for logic, for anything that would pull him back into control.
He looked at Jasper.
He could not speak.
Jasper watched him for a long moment. Then he sat back, giving Bennett space without withdrawing completely.
“Okay,” Jasper said quietly.
Bennett’s breath shook. He hated that Jasper could see it. He hated that Jasper did not seem to judge him for it.
They returned upstairs in silence. Not angry. Not awkward. Just full.
In the room,Bennett paced for a minute before sitting at the desk. He opened his laptop, then closed it again.
Jasper sat on the bed, scrolling through his phone with exaggerated casualness.
Bennett stopped pacing. “You’re too calm.”
Jasper glanced up. “I’m trying to be nice.”
Bennett stared at him. “That makes it worse.”
Jasper’s mouth curved faintly. “Good.”
Bennett’s heart kicked. “Do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Say things like you are not afraid of what they do to people,” Bennett said.
Jasper’s gaze sharpened. “I am afraid.”
Bennett went still. “You are?”
“Yes,” Jasper said. “I’m afraid you will take what you want and then decide you never wanted it.”
Bennett’s throat closed before he could talk himself out of it. He stopped close to Jasper, close enough that he could feel Jasper’s warmth.
