He blinks a few times before glancing back to the stove. “It’s just…this pan is really freakin’ hot. It could burn you.”
“It’s, like, two feet away from me.”
“Yeah, well, I like to practice safety in my kitchen,” he insists. “Can you go get dressed, please?”
It’s obvious he’s lying to me, but I’m not going to call him out on it. “Yeah, sure.”
As I step away, I see Skyler lower his head, his eyes shutting tight as he draws in a deep breath. “Fucking hell,”he mutters.
Instinct takes over and I reach out to touch his shoulder in what I intend to be a comforting touch. “Sky, it’s okay—”
He flinches away from me, causing me to take a hurried step back, fear and hurt twisting inside me.He doesn’t even want me to touch him?
“Can you please just ease my mind and go get dressed?” he all but pleads.
“Yeah, of course.” I still feel completely wrong-footed, but like I said earlier, we just need to make some adjustments and then we’ll be fine. And if one of those adjustments is something as simple as me being fully clothed around Skyler, I’ll happily do it.
I decide not to let myself think about what other boundaries this could throw up.
When I emerge from my bedroom, now dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, I feel a smile tugging at my lips as I see Skyler setting our breakfast plates on the table. Mine with two fluffy pancakes covered with whipped cream and blueberries plus a side of crispy bacon, and his with a mountain of bacon and avocado on toast.
It’s not until I take a seat and am about to dig in that the smile slips from my face. “Are those…flowers?” I scowl at the whipped cream and blueberries decorating my pancakes. They look completely wrong. “Where are the dicks? Your pancakes are supposed to have dicks on them.”
Skyler groans, running a hand over his face. “Jesus, Jax—can you please stop saying “dicks”?”
I run my eyes carefully over his face, feeling another knot of dread twist inside me.Please don’t let this be another thing I have to give up…“You don’t want me to eat dicks for breakfast anymore?”
I’m trying to tease him, but it’s a meek effort, and based on Skyler’s reaction, a very unsuccessful one.
“Fucking hell, Jackson.”He lets out a frustrated huff and pushes up from the table, abandoning his breakfast as he paces the living room in obvious agitation.
“Sky, come on, sit back down,” I urge. “Let’s have breakfast. The flowers are great—I love flowers.”
He finally stops pacing and turns to face me, my heart clenching and the look of utter dejection marring his face. “It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?”
“Like what?”
“Like…” He lets out a strangled groan of frustration, scrubbing both hands over his hair. “It’s just all different now. You’re Jackson…my Jackson.I’m not supposed to get turned on when you stroke my hair. I’m not supposed to jump to dirty innuendo when I hear you talk about dicks. I’m not supposed to ogle your abs when I see you walking around shirtless. I’m not supposed to feel you up in bed. And I’m sure as fuck not supposed to rub one out while I’m thinking about you,” he finishes boldly, jaw tight with tension and cheeks stained red as he glances off toward the living room window.
“Well, I’m not supposed to eat shellfish but give me a pack of antihistamines and I’ll go to town at Red Lobster.”
Skyler flicks his gaze back to mine, his expression unamused. “This isn’t a joke, Jackson.”
“I’m not trying to make it one,” I assure him. “But who made up these rules about what you’re supposed to do and what you’re not supposed to do? Why can’t you ogle my abs?” I lift my t-shirt and give my abdomen a smack. “I work hard for these bad boys.”
He cards a hand through his hair, letting out a weary sigh. “Jackson…”
“And I’ve seen you feel guys up—last night you werenotfeeling me up. It was just…freestyle cuddling,” I say with a shrug. “Feel free to do it whenever you want because it was amazing.”
His eyes bug out with incredulity. “Are you serious right now? You actually want me to do that again? Jackson, do you realize how close I came to—” he breaks off, shaking his head sharply. “It doesn’t matter. Even without that it was still mortifying.Allof this is mortifying. Me being turned on while we’re cuddling, it’s just…” he winces and shakes his head, as though the notion is too unbearable for words.
Knowing where his lips were when he suddenly called a halt last night, it doesn’t take much for me to read between the lines, and I hate that he’s beating himself up about something that a) didn’t happen, and b) wouldn’t have been a big deal if it had. There’s no line Skyler isn’t allowed to cross with me, and he should know that. If he did happen to accidentally go there, I would have simply called him out and we’d have had a good laugh about it. Or, at least, that’s what would happen under regular circumstances—now I’m not so sure.
Maybe I’m being dense, but I just don’t understand why this is so much worse than all the other times he’s been turned on while we were cuddling.
“But why isthisso mortifying?” I press, my face screwed up in concern. “It’s not exactly a new thing, Sky. You’ve jerked off in my bed tons of times.”
He grimaces, covering his face with one hand. “Awesome. Because I wasn’t feeling humiliated enough already.”
