Page 52 of True North
“So it’s what,” Misha said. “You talk to your mom in the kitchen, she said something—about me?”
JT rubbed his face. No surprise that Misha had picked up that something was going on after walking in on the end of that fraught conversation. “She’s just—a little worried.” He had a swift mental debate with himself about how much to tell Misha of what his mom had said, if anything. “She thinks we’re sleeping together. I mean, having sex.”
“Oh.” Misha was quiet for a moment. “You said to her?”
“No, she just—guessed, I think. She said from the way we were looking at each other. I didn’t confirm it or anything. But I also don’t want to lie to my parents, you know?” When Misha didn’t respond, he said, “Does it bother you?”
“I’m—maybe scared,” Misha said. “If they know I’m gay.” He sucked in a breath and covered his face with both hands, the gesture barely visible in the gray dusk. “I feel, like—now I’m not safe.” He laughed without humor and dropped his hands. “But who they will tell? They will call my job? I don’t think they’re bad people.”
“They wouldn’t,” JT promised. He reached out a hand and touched Misha’s knee. “It wouldn’t ever occur to them. They won’t tell anyone.” He made a mental note to text his mom and ask that she not say anything even to Tyler or Kendall. She probably wasn’t going to tell them that JT was fucking his former trash-eating problem bear, but better safe than sorry.
“Okay.” Misha opened the passenger side door, then turned back to JT and said, “You don’t tell them I live with you.”
It wasn’t a question. JT had hoped to dodge this conversation, or at least to have it later, when he’d had time to—what? Come up with some legitimate-sounding excuse? He was a piece of shit.
“No,” he said. “I kind of forgot. I also kind of didn’t want them to know.”
“Why,” Misha said, after a pause.
JT knew by now that Misha could see very, very well in the dark and was probably taking in every uncomfortable twitch of JT’s expression and posture. “I didn’t think they’d approve.”
“Because why,” Misha said. “Because I’m feral? They think I’m strange or um, dangerous? Or because you’re rich, so I steal money?”
The restrained anger in Misha’s voice made JT feel faintly queasy. An intrepid mosquito had made its way into the cab and was busily sucking at JT’s calf. He reached down to slap it. “They think I’m—I don’t know. I made some bad decisions when I was younger.” He swallowed. “About men. So, you know. They don’t always trust my judgment.”
The seat creaked as Misha settled back. “What you did?”
“Fucked a lot of older guys when I was in junior. Like, way older. My billet family called my parents about it.” The memories were still humiliating, even all these years later. “And then my first year in the league, I dated a guy who ended up trying to, uh. Lightly blackmail me.”
“What’s blackmail,” Misha said.
JT stared through the windshield at the barely visible trees around his house, towering and silent. “He wanted me to pay him to keep quiet about our relationship. So I did. I don’t think he would actually have done anything. He was kind of a coward. But I felt like—okay, fuck you, if you only care about me for my money, here, take it.”
“I’m sorry,” Misha said.
“Yeah. It sucked. So, anyway, that was years ago, but I don’t have a great track record when it comes to guys, you know? My parents really liked the last guy I dated, and I know they’ve tried to put the past behind them and trust me to make good decisions, but I haven’t always, uh. Done a lot to instill confidence.”
“Okay.” Misha reached over and touched JT’s elbow. “Thanks for explaining. Now I’m not mad.”
“You think I’m a sad sack though, eh.”
“No.” Misha leaned in and bumped his temple against JT’s shoulder. “You like old guys? I’m not old.”
JT’s laugh was startled out of him. “No. You’re not old.”
“But you like me,” Misha said, tipping his face up, angling for a kiss, and JT gave him one, twisting in his own seat to slot their mouths together.
“I do,” he said, when they broke apart. “I do like you.”
Twenty-One
Misha seemed to immediately put the dinner fiasco behind them. He cuddled right up to JT on the couch for an hour of pre-bedtime TV, then did his usual idle groping as they got ready for bed, squeezing JT’s ass through his shorts as JT brushed his teeth at the sink. When JT turned off the bedside lamp, Misha immediately flopped onto his stomach and threw one arm across JT’s waist, and within three minutes was breathing slowly and steadily, clearly asleep.
JT didn’t fall asleep for a while. He lay in the dark, listening to the buzz of insects outside, trying and repeatedly failing to clear his mind. It’s time to sleep, he told himself silently, and focused on his breathing until he finally did.
He was still unsettled in the morning, even as he made breakfast and talked with Misha about their plans for the day. Misha had the night off again because the restaurant was closed, so JT would take him to the shifter meeting that evening instead. JT had ice time with Alex and Curtis that morning and nothing planned for the rest of the day, so maybe they could drive somewhere to go fishing or just stay home all afternoon and fuck. He didn’t suggest that, but he could tell from Misha’s smirk that Misha was thinking about it.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said, playfully snapping the dishtowel in Misha’s direction. “I’ve gotta get going.”