Page 6 of The Trust (As Above)

Jordan

“Okay, what’d you do?”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I blink at the plate on the nightstand and the soft smile on my boyfriend’s face.

“Made breakfast.”

I sit up, holding the blankets over my hips as I lean back against the wall-mounted headboard.

“And what did you do?” I ask again.

Mac snickers and hands me the mug of tea. “Brought it to you in bed.”

Accepting the ceramic, I narrow my eyes at him and sip from the—

Mother fuck, he gave me the dick mug.

It’s even skin toned and shaped like one of those chibi, squishy things people call peens.

“Like you didn’t give me enough dick last night?” I deadpan, and lock eyes with him over the rim as I drink.

The pink flush races across his cheeks and I smile in victory.

“You were a lot less squeamish about your asshole than I thought you’d be.”

My forehead tenses with the dip of my brow but Mac’s too busy climbing over my legs and flopping on the bed beside me to see it.

“Why would I be?”

He snorts and leans in next to me, his shoulder touching mine.

“’Cause you were straight like six months ago?”

“Over a year ago,” I correct automatically and rest a hand on his thigh. “Practically celibate before that. Here—” I hold out the mug for him to take, “—hold my dick.”

The snicker he lets out has the corner of my lips tipping up and I reach for the plate he brought me.

It’s an egg white omelet with what looks like spinach and cheese inside that I balance on my thighs and fork off a bite right-handed.

We’re silent for a beat, something that’s not common for Mac, though it’s not uncomfortable in the slightest.

It’s actually … nice.

Soft.

Sweet .

My chest fills as I chew, gaining fuel with each bite that I swallow, and take the mug back from him.

I’ve never had breakfast in bed before.

“How’s your ass, baby?” he finally asks, his voice quiet.

The fingers curling around his thigh flex. “It’s …”

I feel his eyes pin me, and I sip from the mug before setting it on the nightstand.

“Okay, fine.” I roll mine. “It’s sore.” I lift one leg slightly, then the other and wince. “Definitely sore.”

He’s biting his lip when I risk a glance through my lashes.

Is he remembering everything like I am?

“We need a bathtub here.”

I hum and cut off another bite that I wolf down.

When I’m finished and the plate is abandoned between my feet, Mac lays his head on my shoulder. Snakes an arm beneath the one still covering his thigh and mirrors me.

He falls eerily quiet and after a beat, he scoots so close that there’s no space left between our sides.

“Vida,” I rumble.

I’m met with a sigh.

“Just let me touch you.”

“You are touching me.”

It’s like I can hear his eye roll.

But then he hooks a leg over mine and wraps my arm up in his and as much as I love this …

“Spit it out.”

His chest expands with a deep inhale.

“I need to ask my best friend something about my boyfriend.”

“Okay …” I drag out.

“But they’re both you.”

Flutters erupt in my stomach, and I turn to press a kiss on the top of his head.

“ Sólo pregúntame. ”

Just ask me.

I shouldn’t be glad that I take up both roles for him. I know that I should help encourage him to figure out a different way. To confide in others as much as he does me.

But honestly?

I’d be everything he’d ever want. All he had to do was say so.

“Okay …” He blows out a breath. “What kind of relationship would my best-friend Jordan say that my boyfriend Jordan wanted?”

I blink.

“What?”

“I mean, conventional? Un conventional? We’re already exclusive, I know that, but … are we talking white picket fences and ten kids? Or like an island somewhere? Maybe a nudist colony ...”

He starts rambling and my chest clenches painfully at the uncertainty he’s emitting.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Vida.” I cup his jaw with my free hand and pull his face to mine. Stare into his brilliant green-blue eyes. Ghost my lips over the corner of his when he finally focuses on me. “Wherever you are. That’s my happy ending.”

His eyes soften.

“You’re my best friend. You have to say that.”

“Fine, then—”

My alarm blares from my phone on the nightstand and I silence it with a curse.

This whole working two jobs, being split between wanting to be here with Mac and needing to protect him, while also needing to be there for my gym is getting fucking old.

I feel like I keep losing time with him.

I’ve already lost too much.

“Baby, it’s okay,” Mac mutters and fingers the device from my grip. “I called Lemon this morning. He’s gonna open up.”

“I …” I blink at him, my brows pinched. “Why?”

His smile is soft. Too soft.

“Because you needed the rest.”

There’s something about his statement that feels a little too heavy, but I kiss him anyway.

“Fine, then let’s get you to the studio.”

His fingers curl into my bicep, stopping me from moving.

“Rex postponed this morning, too.”

My stomach flips with a hope I don’t quite grab hold of just yet.

“Did I have a nightmare last night or something?”

He shakes his head and reaches up to run his fingers through my hair.

“I don’t think so.”

I turn into his touch and allow myself to slump against his chest. “Then lay here with me until we’re late for the afternoon shit.”

Mac’s chuckle echoes through the ear I have presses against him and my stomach flips.

Then it turns.

I’m not hiding him .

But If I’m not hiding him— us —then why stay in.

Again.

If we have the morning to ourselves, then why is this my automatic response?

“Mac,” I mutter and press my ear harder to the space between his pecs where his heart thumps.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Do you think I’m hiding you?” He stiffens, but now that it’s out, I can’t stop.

“Do you want to be in public with me? It’s a fucking lot , I know, and it would make things difficult as shit.

” I turn into his chest and inhale his rich scent.

“But, fuck, I feel like I need to just … I don’t know … hold your fucking hand or something.”

“Baby…”

“Does it make me less of your boyfriend if I’m scared to?”

Shit, there it is .

The truth bomb I wasn’t prepared to let out.

And now that it’s out there, I’m terrified that he’ll think less of me. Or he’ll want something I can’t give.

Can I give him affection in public?

Would it risk his life?

I hug him harder.

“Jordan, look at me.”

My heart is in my throat, and I shake my head.

“I don’t want you to see me freaking out.”

“Are you freaking out about being with me?”

I shake my head. “No … yes … fuck , a little?”

“Jordan?”

It’s not much more than a cracked whisper, but it’s enough to have me rearing back.

Regret slaps me when the broken look on his face registers.

“ Shit , this is coming out all wrong.”

“I’d say,” he mutters and it’s thick.

Raw.

Busted up and allowing old wounds to surface.

I grab his face.

“Mac, there isn’t a single doubt in my mind. Not a single molecule of my being that isn’t madly in love with you. Constantly falling in love with you.”

His eyes go glassy.

“Then what is it, baby?”

“I …” My tongue sticks and I swallow. Hard. “I worry.”

His sight darts between mine. “About?”

“I-i-if I’m … good enough .”

The gasp that punches past Mac’s lips lands on mine and his eyes fill.

“Do you—” he swallows when his words are too thick and grabs my wrists, “—do you understand that I’ve waited my entire life for you?

” My stomach twists up tight and my heart pounds.

“That there is no good enough ?” My own eyes burn.

“Whatever we mean, whatever we are, is enough for me. And fuck , I didn’t mean to push you, baby. ”

His grip is tight and warm, and I let it fill me.

“That’s not … I just want you to be safe. No matter where you are, Mac.”

There’s a flash of pink as his tongue sneaks out to swipe over his bottom lip and his sight dips. His lashes dampen.

“Jordan … I’m an openly gay man. A public figure. And I’m damn proud of what I’ve done, who I am.”

“Me, too, Vida. Me, too.”

“But there’s not a single day that goes by where I don’t see the hate in the world. Have its anger aimed at me for being different.”

I swallow, the muscles in my jaw jumping with its clench.

“Mac, we can adjust shit. Tell me who—”

His sight clashes with mine and I stop dead.

“You have to live anyway .” A violent chill races down my spine. “I have to rise above the hate. Or else I’d suffocate in it.”

I nod though my chest swirls in a volatile concoction of love and rage. Pain, fear, and pride all at once.

“But that doesn’t have to be you.”

It’s like a shock that racks through my system and my jaw drops open.

“Mac,” I croak out and slant my forehead to his.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay with me.” He leans forward and presses his lips to mine. “As long as it’s you and me.”