Page 48

Those were the words on a piece of paper given to him by Paulo that he’d stuck to his whiteboard.

A cure for feeling sad. Making someone else happy did make Zeph happy.

Buying a meal for a homeless person. Picking up litter.

Reading to a guy in an old folk’s home. Except he didn’t particularly want to go out tonight.

It was cold and threatening to snow. The random act of kindness could wait.

He went back upstairs, unlocked his room and almost collapsed when he saw Jack lying on his bed.

What the fuck? How? Joy…anger…delight…rage…

He was pulled in multiple directions. Every day it had hurt a little less and now that pain came roaring back as if it had never gone at all, just waited to pounce.

Though not just pain. Damn him. Zeph thought about walking out, but this was his room. How the hell had Jack got in?

Jack stood. “If you want me to leave, tell me.”

Speaking was currently impossible, but Zeph managed to shake his head. He was owed an explanation. He pushed the door closed behind him.

Angry as he was, it wasn’t Jack’s fault that Zeph had fallen so hard.

Not his fault that all Zeph’s hopes and dreams for what might have been had died on that journey back from France.

Jack had warned him not to get attached. But Zeph literally had no idea what to say. How could he still feel alone when Jack was there in front of him? Jack had lived and laughed and maybe loved without him. Jealousy bit hard and it hurt. It fucking hurts! And I still want him. Fuck!

He struggled for the right thing to say. The longer he struggled, the more imperative it seemed that he said exactly the right thing. Where have you been? Why did you leave? Why didn’t you get in touch?

“Are you with anyone?” Jack asked.

The moment for those questions was lost. Zeph almost laughed.

How could he tell Jack that the memory of him, of the ball, of France, of what they’d done was too much for him to contemplate being with anyone else?

That he was ruined, that even sitting with another guy was painful?

He couldn’t say any of that. Bad enough to be so vulnerable, but to show it?

“No.” Oh God, I spoke. “I’m not with anyone.” Just in case Jack had forgotten what he’d asked.

How could he tell Jack that he could still feel his lips on his mouth, his hand on his cock, the vibration of his chuckles against his neck? How could he tell him any of that and not freak him out?

“Why not?” Jack asked.

Because they weren’t him, and Zeph would have had to hurt them if Jack had come back.

He had come back.

He’d come back. Oh fuck.

Zeph’s inhale was so noisy, Jack’s eyes widened.

Don’t ask me if I’m okay.

“How’ve you been?” Jack asked.

Same thing, different words.

You’re too far away. Too many centimetres, millimetres. I’m angry and I’m sad and I’m happy and I missed you. And now he was here, Zeph wanted to hold him, hug him, kiss him, hit him, bang his fists against Jack’s chest. Why had he waited so long to come? Why hadn’t he called?

He stayed exactly where he was.

“I’m okay,” Zeph managed to force out.

How could he stride back into his life as easily as he strode out? Only if I let him.

“You could have called me,” Zeph croaked. “I couldn’t call you. I tried. Your phone was…dead.”

“I can’t keep the same number for any length of time. It’s too dangerous. I shouldn’t have got involved with you.”

Zeph clenched his teeth so hard, he heard them grind. “You came to tell me that? Fine. You’ve told me. Now fuck off.”

Jack took a step towards him. “Do you hate me?”

“Do I look like I hate you?” It was a genuine question. Could Jack see the truth?

“I think you want to,” Jack whispered. “But I don’t think you do.”

He took another step towards him and Zeph found his back against the door.

“How did you know where I lived? How did you get in?”

“Does it matter?”

Jack took that final step so he was pressed up against him and Zeph knew it didn’t matter, because despite everything he’d said, and promised himself and his heart, he’d waited, his heart had waited, and Jack was here ready to step back into Zeph’s life. If he let him.

“Why did you wait so long?”

“I got caught up in something and ended up in hospital.”

Zeph gulped.

“Thomas had to come and get me, look after me until I was well.”

“You’re all right now?”

Jack nodded.

Zeph wanted to say good, now go but he couldn’t.

There was that familiar current flowing between them and his head buzzed with it.

He was frightened and excited at the same time.

Part of him began to question whether Jack was really there.

Even though he could feel him hard against him, feel his rapid exhalations hitting his face.

Although they stood pressed together, their hands weren’t touching.

Zeph’s were flat to the door. Jack’s hung by his side.

But want consumed him. A need to touch Jack’s face, brush his fingers along his lips, let his thumb drift along his chin…

If Zeph did any of that, whatever was building inside him would escape.

“I’m sorry. I was going to come back but I really was badly injured. It’s taken a while to get better.”

It hurt that Zeph hadn’t been able to be there for him. “You could have called.”

“I wanted to, but I was trying to let you start again. You’re better off not knowing me.”

“So why have you come now?”

“Because my heart wrestled with my head and won. I don’t want you to start again. I need you to want me.”

Zeph swallowed hard.

“Please, Zeph,” Jack whispered.

And with those words, said so softly, Zeph was his once more.

Why did he keep showing all these desperate parts of him?

Why couldn’t he be cold and controlled? But Zeph couldn’t bear missing him and Jack was back, along with Zeph’s love and his hate and there was nothing he could do but go with the flow.

He’d seen the rip and still let it take him. Zeph kissed him.