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“Which is perfectly reasonable and very kind of you, man. But you have to consider your own feelings, too. Maybe this one is just the guy for now, and not the guy forever.”
Jackson held Michael’s gaze. “You think Josiah is your forever guy?”
Michael’s smile was his answer even before Michael said, “I think so. I hope so. It’s still pretty new, but we love each other and we’re trying to make it work every single day. That’s all any of us really can do, right?”
“Right.”
“Anyway, I’ll stop bugging you. But if you need a friend to talk to, you can come to me. I didn’t really get to know my coworkers all that well in my old life, because that life was all about coding and the programs, not the people. I want to change that here.”
“I think I do, too.” Jackson held out his hand, and they shook. “Thanks for the chat.”
“Anytime.”
After Michael left, Jackson took his coffee to the break room table and sat for a minute, his thoughts dancing all around each other. Everything he’d said to Michael about being lonely was true. Loneliness was an emotion he never expected to feel again, not after the first half of his life, but here he was. On a ranch in northern Texas, working with a guy he really liked, and unable to show the world how amazing he was. Or how great Jackson felt about himself when he was around Wyatt. But coming out as a couple was bigger than just Jackson’s feelings. Wyatt also got a say.
He knew their arrangement wouldn’t last forever. Wyatt would either get bored with him or find someone new (and younger) and move on, either from Jackson, the ranch, or both at once. And Jackson could live with that, as long as Wyatt found what truly made him happy. If discovering his birth father made Wyatt happy, Jackson would do whatever he could to help him do exactly that.
Wyatt felt like a dumbass fool for twisting his ankle this morning, and he grumped his way through the afternoon by bingeing a TV show Jared had been begging him to watch. It was entertaining, with funny dialogue, and some good eye candy. Ice packs and ibuprofen kept his ankle from swelling, thank God, so he’d be good to work tomorrow. What he really wanted was a cold beer, but Ramie kept count of the ones she brought home like a good big sister would. He didn’t mind the coddling. In some ways, she reminded him of his mom, with her kindness and bright smile—both things Mom had lost as cancer slowly stole her away.
A little after seven, Jackson texted him:How’s your ankle?
It’s fine, not swollen. Barely hurts anymore.
Good news. Ramie at work?
Yeah, I think she’s on until two. Bored by TV.
Want some company?
Wyatt hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He did want company, and he wanted it to be Jackson’s company.Someone could see you.
I’ll park one block over and walk. But if you’re uncomfortable, it’s okay.
Part of himwasuncomfortable, but the idea of them being caught was a little thrill all its own. They’d be done “hanging out” long before Ramie got home.Bring beer?
Jackson sent back a laughing emoji.See you in a bit.
That wasn’t a yes or no on the beer, so Wyatt didn’t anticipate anything. He did pop into the bathroom to brush his teeth and clean up a little, though he was unsure why. Jackson had kissed him with morning breath before without complaint. But this was Wyatt’s place and he wanted to make a good impression. He also had no idea if Jackson had ever been here before, but he was guessing probably yes, since Jackson hadn’t asked for the address.
The house was tidy, so he didn’t have much to do except wait. They hadn’t agreed this was a booty call, a quiet movie night, or a combination of both, and Wyatt was definitely down for both. He missed Jackson’s quiet touches and sweet smiles that he only shared when they were alone. He also missed the harsh way Jackson kissed him mixed with the tender brushes of lips and tongue. Revving him up and then slowing him down. Taming him like any good cowboy would with a wild colt.
Jackson knocked on the door a little before eight, and he held up a six-pack of beer. Nonalcoholic beer.
“Really?” Wyatt asked as he ushered him inside.
“What? I’m not gonna contribute to the delinquency of a minor. Beer taste and no alcohol.”
“Thank God I’ll be twenty-one in a few months. I can drink like a normal person.”
“You just got too used to drinkin’ in college.”
“Probably.” Wyatt put the six-pack on the coffee table, then leaned in to properly kiss his boyfriend. “Hey, you. Want to make out?”
“Absolutely. But first, I was wondering if you wanted to do somethin’ we haven’t done together yet.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Watch a movie.”
