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“Pretend no one would want you and you’ll take anything you can get, and like all you want is to go out and have sex as if it means nothing.”
“If I can get it, then sex doesn’t have to mean anything at all,” I needed because he was getting antsy, and maybe he’d just spill that he wanted to date me, and then, I could release this stupid tension with a kiss.
“Jesus, Arlo.” He sounded frustrated.
What the actual fuck?
“You don’t get to judge me,” I warned him in a quiet tone that may well have crossed the line, but then, he was the one getting all huffy over me dating. I was an adult and perfectly capable of having all the random sex with any and all kinds of men I wanted to.
I waited for him to explain that he was my boss, or my friend, and that he had every right to look out for me, but instead, he turned back to the paperwork. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
Well, that wasn’t what I expected, and I deflated.
“Just look after yourself,” he finished in a quiet voice. “Condoms are good.”
Silence.
Awful impenetrable silence that was nothing I’d ever experienced around Jax before. It hurt, and it was messing with my head because I’d done this all wrong, I’d pushed him into reacting, and then fucked up even more when he hadn’t reacted how I wanted him to.
Way to go, Arlo.
“Anyway, let’s finish this.” Jax wasn’t looking at me. He was tense, and I wished I could rewind to a moment where I hadn’t told him I had a date.
I rummaged in my tool kit for the tiniest screwdriver to adjust the cupboard door and pretended to fix a gap that no one else but me would have seen. Only Jax was still staring at me, and I couldn’t help but feel this was a very bad day.
And since I’d met Jax, where work was concerned at least, I hadn’t had bad days.
The first day I met him, I’d been all dressed for the interview with an emerging cutting-edge construction company, or at least that was what the job spec said. I’d been drawn to the rainbow in the logo, and it might have meant nothing at all, but I went into that interview determined to get a job with a company that was queer-friendly, and family-friendly. Back then, my little brother still lived at home with me, and I wanted to work somewhere flexible enough to give me an hour or two, here and there, to see one of Sutton’s games as long as I made the time up. Even though Jax had been prickly, stressed, grumpy, and worst of all, had forgotten I was there for an interview, I wanted that job.
He'd been in the middle of a call concerning roofing tiles, and just as he was about to lose his shit over a delay, I was compelled to take over the call to interrupt the flow of the rising anger on both sides. I guess it was being pseudo-dad-slash-big brother to my siblings, but I’d broken up more than one heated debate. After a few moments of talking the supplier down and getting him to agree to a next day delivery with a discount for the client, and thus, not a cent of profit lost by Byrne Construction, I had handed back the phone, and Jax had blinked at me.
He'd hired me on the spot as temporary contract carpenter, which had become permanent three months in. I’d been with Byrne Construction—with Jax—for three years now, and it was unfortunate that, along with fitting in seamlessly with the work, I’d fallen into lust that had no hope of being returned.
My youngest brother, Sutton, said if I pretended to date, it would make Jax sit up and take notice. Yeah right.
What did little brothers know about anything?
Because now, I had a date I didn’t want at a freaking karaoke bar.
Idiot brothers.
I stepped back from the cupboard space and avoided meeting Jax’s fixed stare as I turned a full three-sixty to look at the expansive solid wood and granite kitchen. My chest swelled with pride—this had been my first real solo-led project, and along with our second carpenter, it had been a dream to work on and every detail of the hand-crafted oak kitchen was flawless.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Okay, I’m done. You can sign off,” I announced at last.
Jax blinked at me, then his eyes widened as if he’d forgotten where we were.
“Cool,” he said; then, we did this super awkward bro hug back slap, and I fought the impulse to pull him in and hug him properly—something else I fought daily. Maybe today, I felt it even more keenly, given the lack of reaction to my date thing, but I did cling for longer than usual, and he was solid against me as he squeezed me hard. I wondered what he felt when he hugged me—did he like the fact I was taller and stronger, or did he feel the soft parts of me and think I was less than he wanted?
“Let go of me, you freak,” he teased and shoved me away, playful, the way we usually were.
I’d normally tease him back, but I had nothing, but he didn’t seem to have noticed as he took photos of the finished room for our website. If I leaned in a little too much when we took our usual post-project grinning selfie, then it was only to get a better shot, and that was the lie I would be telling myself and anyone who asked me.
“Another one done,” I said, with no small amount of pride.
“How aboutyousign off with the client?”
