Page 86 of Point of Contact

Jesse dug his fingers into Trevor’s hip, gripping onto him. They rocked together, straining to get closer, when suddenly the sound of voices in the distance broke into the haze of arousal surrounding them.

“Someone’s coming,” Trevor gasped, pushing on Jesse’s shoulders, and with a curse Jesse lifted himself away to sitting, drawing his legs up to wrap his arms around them. Trevor sat up more slowly, and by the time the early morning beachcombers passed them, they were calm and more or less composed.

“Morning, folks!” the elderly man called out, raising his hand in greeting. Trevor waved back, but Jesse sat motionless, forehead resting on his knees. When the people had disappeared on down the beach, Trevor put his hand on Jesse’s back, feeling the tenseness of his muscles.

“Jesse—”

“I’m sorry, Trevor.”

“For what? Kissing me?” When Jesse nodded miserably, Trevor let out a husky chuckle. “I’m pretty sure I was a full, willing participant in that, and basically all I can think about right now is doing it again.”

Jesse lifted his head at that, the sunlight slanting across his face and making his blue eyes glow like jewels. “I, uh, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” he admitted, biting his lip.

Really? God, I’m oblivious.

“And here I thought I was the only one being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re young and gorgeous—”

“With the operative word being ‘young,’ right?” Jesse’s voice was quiet, his gaze steady. “What does my age have to do with anything?”

“Have to do with—are you kidding me?” Trevor exclaimed. “You’re only twenty-five! You have your whole life ahead of you, so many things just waiting for you to experience them.”

“Like what?”

Trevor sputtered. “I don’t know! Maybe living out and proud, being able to play the field, date lots of men.”

“So that’s what you were doing when you were twenty-five, then?”

“You know it’s not. When I was twenty-five, I had a kindergartner at home. I wasn’t your typical single gay man.”

“And I am?”

Trevor opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

“I’ve gone to war, Trevor. I’ve killed people, and seen friends die.” Jesse’s face softened. “My best friend. I acted as the ears for my parents, until they died too and left me. Life experience? Sometimes I feel like I’ve lived an entire lifetime already.”

“Fair enough.” Trevor paused. “Okay, so maybe you’re not ridiculous. But I am.”

Jesse nudged him with his shoulder chidingly. “How so?”

“Because, well, I don’t have a whole lot left to give anyone.” After a moment’s hesitation, Trevor reached over and took Jesse’s hand, stroking his thumb over his wrist, feeling the faint grit of sand. “I’m not anywhere close to the man I used to be.”

Raising one eyebrow, Jesse said drily, “Since I didn’t really know the old Trevor, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t like me very much, that’s probably a good thing.”

Trevor snorted, acknowledging the truth in that statement. He dug his toes into the sand, still holding on to Jesse’s hand. “And, Jess, I don’t—I can’t lose anyone else,” he said haltingly, and Jesse gripped his fingers.

“I’m not a quitter. I’m not going to quit on you. No matter what happens, I’ll always be your friend.” Jesse leaned close. “But I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been dying to feel you against me.”

The suppressed need in his hoarse voice rasped along Trevor’s skin, making him shiver.

“If we chalk up what happened to emotion and too much wine, so be it. All I’m asking is for you to be honest with me about it. Treat me like an adult, not a kid.”

Trevor studied him for a moment. “Okay. This is me being honest. I enjoyed being in your arms last night, probably way more than I have a right to. I just need to be sure I’m not—well, that I’m not using you, Jess. It would kill me to hurt you.”

At that Jesse sat up straight, his lips firming. “Hey. I’m a big boy, and I’m pretty sure I can take care of myself. Been doing it for years.” He got to his feet and reached down to haul Trevor to his. “Ball’s in your court, Trev,” he said solemnly. “I think you know where I stand.”