Owning It (Metropolis #3)(16)

He narrows his eyes as we walk across the parking lot, to the rack I chained my bike to.

He laughs at my neon pink ride.

"Laugh it up. Ain't nobody missing this thing at night."

"You ride that at night?"

"I ride a lot of things at night."

He shakes his head as I pull my fuchsia helmet off the handle and strap it on.

"Wow. And here I thought you couldn't be any more adorable."

I try to fight my grin, but I can't. "See. You already think I'm adorable. Just a matter of time before I break you, Jackson."

"I thought you were the one who wanted to be broken."

"True. I'm just a text away if you're looking to apply for the job."

"I'll remember that," he says before coming at me. He wraps an arm around me and tugs me close to him for a hug.

His body firmly against me like this has my mind racing back through those images of him taking me. A jolt of adrenaline courses through me, and I find I just want to entwine myself with him, but I restrain myself. He pulls back and turns away.

"I'll let you know about climbing," he says.

My gaze fixes on his tight ass as he walks across the lot.

I'm not sure what to think about what just happened. Coffee. My stupid mouth. The hug.

All I know is that I really want to see him again.





7




Jackson


My head is all fucked up.

It's not easy for me to admit, but it's true. I figured I'd get a few answers from Derek over coffee and that would be the end of it. What happened is I ended up even more intrigued by him and found myself … asking him to go rock climbing with me?

It's something I typically do alone-something I haven't had much time for but one of the things I promised myself I would do more of when Steph and I divorced. I blame asking him to go on the fact that he questioned what I do for myself.

I haven't been rock climbing in close to a year.

And I invited him. Someone eleven years younger than me who I'm not sure wants more from me than my dick-and as much as I'd love to give it to him, I won't allow myself to. Not the way things stand right now.

See? My head is definitely fucked up.

The thing is … I feel an unexpected fondness for him. He knows what it's like to take care of someone you love, to keep that to yourself because it feels like it's yours and you don't want attention for doing the right thing. In a strange way, he almost feels like he represents this sort of freedom I haven't allowed myself to have. I don't mean because I want my dick in his ass either, but because he's not attached to Steph or Zane or even work. Frankie is my friend but he's still attached to my responsibilities that are always fucking there, hanging over my head.

Derek is just … Derek. This crazy, wild hurricane I don't want to evacuate for. An adorable twink with a tight ass that I-fuck. How did I get there again?



       
         
       
        

"You've been quiet today. Everything good?" Frankie asks and I shrug off the question.

"Just have a lot on my mind."

"Anything you wanna talk about?"

My multiple weekly visits to the nursing home. Paying for that and helping Zane. Trying to figure out what the fuck I want. Oh, and Derek. "Nope," I reply. It's not as if I'm sharing all of that with him.

"Why am I not surprised by that?"

"My ex-wife would say it's because I'm a little closed off and carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. I just don't like telling people my shit."

Frankie laughs, and I chuckle too. "I hear ya there. You know I'm always here, though. And I also plan to take you out pretty soon. I won't accept no for an answer." We turn down Cypress Street. "See that place?"

I look over to see a large condominium that I've walked or driven by hundreds of times. "Yeah?"

"It's Metropolis. Gayest fucking building in Midtown. You log on Grindr right now and you'll find whatever you're looking for."

I have no idea why he's telling me this. "Are we back to my sex life?"

"No." Frankie shakes his head. "But I'm hoping to get a place there, so I wanted you to know where you'd have to help me move if I do."

"You're crazy."

"You love me," he counters. "I've given you months to get your shit together, but I'm not waiting much longer. Pretty soon I'm going to start forcing you to have some fun. You can enjoy life and still make responsible decisions and take care of the world, Jackson. If anyone can find a way to do it all, it's you."

It doesn't escape my attention that he's the second person in one day to basically remind me that I'm not doing shit for myself. Hell, I'd even planned to get a tattoo a while back. Went in once to check out designs but I haven't made it back. Why the hell haven't I gone back? "And if you get a place, helping you move is supposed to be that fun thing I enjoy?"