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“How?”

Because for those few minutes there had been no river. No white tent. No unidentified woman dragged from black water. No possibility he couldn’t yet allow himself to name. There had only been Jake beneath his hands, responding to him. Trusting him. Letting Harrison narrow the whole bloody world down to breath and skin and those impossible blue eyes.

He couldn’t tell Jake all of that.

Not yet.

“Because for a little while, you were the only thing I had to think about.”

Jake leaned in and kissed him. Then when he drew back, he stayed close. “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you want?”

Now that was harder to explain.

Not because Harrison didn’t want anything. That was precisely the problem. He wanted too much of something he still didn’t know how to have.

The silence stretched.

Jake looked away first. “Did Chris know?”

Harrison’s chest tightened. “Know what?”

“What you needed. Without you having to tell him.”

“Jake…”

“I’m not having a go.” Jake rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I just—” He huffed out a breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing with you half the bloody time.”

Harrison frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Means I want this.” Jake gestured vaguely between them. “Whatever this is. And I’m trying not to push you. Let you set the pace. But you don’t tell me where the bloody pace is.”

Despite himself, Harrison almost smiled.

Jake didn’t.

“I know how to do sex, Harry. That bit’s easy.” Jake dropped his gaze for a moment before looking back at him. “This isn’t. I don’t know if we’re dating or not dating. If we’re summat or we’re not. Whether we’re seeing other people, whether we’re—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I don’t know what the bloody rules are.”

Harrison drew a breath.

He wasn’t seeing anyone else. Of course, he wasn’t. Hadn’t even considered it. Hadn’t even considered Jake. Which he guessed was the point of Jake’s confusion. And the sudden, unpleasant thought of Jake doing exactly that told him rather more than he wanted to know about himself.

But he couldn’t ask Jake for something he wasn’t prepared to name.

So he said nothing.

Jake gave a small, humourless huff. “Exactly.”

Harrison frowned. “Exactly what?”

“That.” Jake gestured at him. “I don’t know when you want me close and when you want me to back off. Don’t know whether you’re here tonight because it’s me or because you just needed somewhere to go.”

That, at least, Harrison could answer. “It’s you.”

Jake stilled.