Page 84 of The Big Fix

Standing up—which thankfully I could do again on my own after two and a half weeks—I walked out from under the canopy and over to the edge of the deck.

He was behind me in seconds, hand on the small of my back. “What scared you?”

“I—no, nothing. I—”

“Take you to bed?” he asked, his voice a weird sexy, gravelly rumble that made my stomach flip over. “Taking what I want? Was that it?”

I turned to look at him. “Tell me what you were—”

“I see you, Jared. You’re a big, strong man, and because of that, your partners expect you to hold them down and fuck them.”

Suddenly the ground under me was of vital importance.

“Nope,” Owen rasped. “You need to look at me.”

It took forever to drag my gaze back to his.

“I’ve even spied on you.”

I was stunned. “What?” I breathed out.

“You had that guy over a couple of years ago, the sportswriter you met at a fundraiser, and you went out a couple of times. Drew, Daniel, whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

I couldn’t remember either, which was terrible.

“And he came over, and I got home late, and you thought I was out for the evening, but nope. I came in around one, and he was screaming.”

“He was not screaming,” I said belligerently.

“The fuck he wasn’t. He was yelling your name, and there was a lot of oh God in there and begging and—”

“Is there any way we could talk about anything—”

“So I go sneaking in there, and it’s lucky we weren’t attacked by ninjas or something because you wouldn’t have heard shit over him, but the door was ajar, and I looked in, and you’re on top and he’s under you, eyes closed, begging as I noted earlier, but your face… I saw your face, and all you wanted was to be done.”

“You’re wrong. I—”

“Why are you lying about this?” He took hold of my bicep. “You can’t possibly believe that somehow your masculinity is in question if you like to be fucked instead of being the guy doing the fucking.”

Easing free of his grip, I walked away, into the house, and took the stairs to my bedroom. He couldn’t possibly understand, and I had no way to explain that would make any logical sense.

I took a seat on my bed, facing the window, and a moment later, I felt him rather than saw him in the doorway. When I turned, he was there, smiling at me, and the way his eyes lit up and his lips turned up in the corners made my heart hurt.

“Can I come in, or should I just leave you alone for a while?”

“Can you come in and not talk?”

“Sure,” Owen agreed, crossing the room to me. “May I sit by you, or no?”

I patted the space beside me.

He flopped down, and we sat in silence, staring out at the water and the cliff across from the one the house was on.

After several minutes, I turned to him. “I came out to my father when I was sixteen.”

“Your mother had already passed, right?”

“Yeah, I…missed her more than usual that day.”