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I turned the anger I had at myself on Lucky. "So what? You were just lying to me when you said that—"
"I didn't lie. Not exactly," Lucky mumbled. He’d put his arm beneath his forehead.
"Then what the hell—"
I heard Lucky's voice enough to know that he was interrupting me, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. I grabbed his free arm and forced him to turn around. "What?" I snapped. The idea that I'd been about to fuck Lucky against the wall with virtually no prep and he'd been willing to keep quiet about the whole thing was threatening to make me violently ill.
"Blow jobs!" Lucky practically yelled. "I know how to give blow jobs!"
I didn't even know how to respond to that. Luckily, I didn't have to because Lucky continued on his own.
"None of the guys I've been with wanted more than that. I… I guess I didn't either."
It wasn't just the words he said, but the way he said them, that had my insides calming a bit.
"I want it with you, Zach. I swear I do. I thought… I thought if I could just relax… I'm sorry. I just wanted it to be you so bad." Lucky dropped his eyes and whispered, "I just wanted it to be you."
There were so many emotions running through me at Lucky's quiet admission that I didn't know what to do with most of them. I was beyond pissed that he would have risked letting me inadvertently hurt him, but I couldn't deny that if I'd known the truth, I never would've touched him. As it was, I knew I just needed to get the hell out of there.
Remembering my state of undress, I reached down to pull the condom off my dick and tugged up my pants. I could hear Lucky doing the same and when I snuck a glance at him, he was leaning back against the wall, his head hung and his fingers slowly working to do up the zipper and button on his jeans.
I glanced around the room and spied a garbage can. I tossed the condom into it before heading to the door. I knew I was supposed to speak some words to him that would get us both past this moment, but I didn't know what the hell they were. There was no way to laugh off the incident because nothing about it was funny. And there was no way to completely escape him unless I quit my job or convinced Lucky to quit the program. I'd already seen more than enough proof that he was determined to see this through.
That meant I would be the one who needed to make a decision about how to move forward.
The fact was that this had all only happened because I'd followed Lucky to his room. I'd been the one to put us in the situation by being alone with him. There was no reason that needed to happen again. I would just need to be more careful.
I had my hand on the doorknob when I happened to glance Lucky's way. He’d turned himself so his back was to the door. He was still leaning against the wall for support, only now he was doing it with his shoulder instead of his back. The pressure in my chest tightened as I studied his frame. He was hunched in on himself, and from where I stood, it appeared that he was shaking. I suspected he was trying to hold himself together until I left.
That's two, asshole. Good job.
I wanted to ignore the voice in my head, but it was absolutely right. That was twice now that I'd trampled all over Lucky's feelings when he'd been at his most vulnerable. After humiliating and hurting him when he’d been only eighteen and baring his soul to me, I’d been certain it would be the first and last time. But here we were at yet another pivotal moment in his life, and I was once again leaving him with wounds that would eventually scar over.
Scars he'd have to learn to carry much like I’d had to.
I wanted to rant and rave at Lucky and ask him why he’d done this, why he’d put us in this position. More importantly, I wanted to know why he kept putting me on a pedestal I didn't deserve.
I wanted him to see the truth about me, but did I want it like this? Did I really want to be like the cold-hearted bastard who’d used me when I hadn’t been much older than Lucky? Who’d held so much power over me that I’d become a shell of the young man I’d once been?
Even as I considered the thought, I opened the door because my body was still ready to flee. Running was easier. It always had been.
