As he had so many times since the first day he was free from splints, casts, and bandages, Nolan ran a finger along the gnarled fissure of scar tissue crisscrossing his thigh. The skin was white, angry looking, rough, and ragged where metal had torn flesh. Muscle was irreparably damaged, making physio a constant in his life. Tracing the path up toward his flaccid cock, he tried to imagine how Zack would have reacted had his fingers moved a few inches down and to the left. Would he have ignored the scar, dismissed it as an anomaly? Would he have asked? Wanted to see what was there? Asked how long, how deep it went? Wanted to know how it felt when they’d pulled the door off him and drawn the metal out of his skin?
Nolan turned his face, no longer able to look at himself. He hadn’t had a lover since the accident. Despite Tina’s assurances that a boyfriend wouldn’t care about something like this, it was hard to get past. He’d woken up more than a few times covered in sweat, heart racing as imaginary laughter of a dream lover echoed in his head.
No, Zack was right. It was better for both of them if they never let this happen again. Nolan had enough to deal with, without adding a doomed love affair to the mix. Monday he’d go to work, do his job, and forget this moment ever happened.
Zack had spent nearly every moment since Nolan walked away thinking about him. The look on Nolan’s face as the happiness bled from it and was replaced with hurt continued to haunt him. He regretted his words the moment he’d spoken them, knowing they were tactless, even if they weren’t angry. He’d taken that moment—a special and spontaneous memory—and twisted it with a few words.
He might have been a brute in the ring, but his words had always packed more power than any punch.
Nolan was already at his desk when Zack arrived at the office. He had no doubt Nolan saw him the moment the elevator doors slid open, which meant the cold shoulder was intentional. Nolan gave him a tight smile as he walked by to his office, but that was all the acknowledgment he received.
Well, what did he expect? He’d taken advantage of Nolan on Saturday—pushed him against the wall and rubbed off. It didn’t matter that the kisses were mutual, passionate. Zack shouldn’t have let Nolan’s casual appearance and relaxed mood seduce him the way it had.
And yet . . .
Max was right: he was a coward. There were ways he and Nolan could handle a workplace relationship. He could get Nolan transferred to another executive, or have Nancy in HR figure something out. Then there’d be no reason they couldn’t do what they wanted, when they wanted.
He picked up his pen, turned his chair directly at Nolan, and stared. Nolan’s back straightened, but he said nothing.
Leaning forward so his forearms rested on the desk, Zack began to tap his pen on the blotter. Nolan shifted in his seat, the force of his typing echoing louder in the office.
Zack tapped his pen on his empty coffee mug.
Nolan turned his head in a manner that would have made the cut in The Exorcist. “Is there something you need, Zack?”
Zack tapped the edge of his mug again. “A coffee.”
“I brewed a fresh pot twenty minutes ago. Lots there.” Nolan smiled and turned his attention back to his computer.
Ouch.
“I deserve that.” Zack got up and grabbed his mug. On his way by Nolan, he grabbed his mug as well. “I don’t know how you take it.”
“Cream, three sugars.”
Zack made a gagging noise as he turned the corner. “That’s not coffee.”
“Been drinking it that way since I was twelve. It’s just fine.”
He cringed as he defiled the coffee with sugar. “You’re better off drinking pop.”
When he returned to the office with the two cups of coffee, Nolan had turned his chair around, his arms crossed. “I have a sweet tooth.”
“Well, here.” Zack held out the mug. “I hope this is okay.”
It was strange, but Zack didn’t remember ever getting one of his assistants coffee before. Shit, he didn’t remember doing anything kind for any of them. He should have been more considerate; it had nothing to do with role, position, or authority, but rather decency.
Nolan reclaimed his mug and frowned at Zack before he took a sip. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Zack slipped his hand into his pocket. “And I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize—”
“Yes, I do, and you know it. You didn’t deserve being pushed away like that. I . . .” He shook his head. “You might find this hard to believe, but I don’t have a lot of relationship experience.”
“What, a prize like you? The men should be beating your doors down.” The normal bite to Nolan’s words wasn’t there. He looked down into the mug. “Sorry.”
“I earned that. Probably more.”
“Maybe.” Nolan snorted. “I was surprised.”
“About the sex?”
“About your wanting anything to do with me. I know I’m not the most attractive of men since my accident.”
The hell? “What are you talking about?”
Nolan set his mug on the desk, and his hand dropped to his left thigh. “My face never healed quite right. My nose is crooked, and I have facial scars that aren’t pretty.”
“None that I can see.” Zack had no idea Nolan was so self-conscious.
Nolan’s eyes were wide; strands of his hair covered most of the left side of his face down to his cheekbone. He pointed to the long forelock, which Zack had always assumed was a deliberate, edgy style choice. “The hair is more than a fashion statement.”
The air around them changed, growing heavy, still. Zack stepped closer and really looked at Nolan, tried to see the imperfections that caused him so much pain. No, his nose wasn’t entirely straight, but it wasn’t so crooked as to distract from the rich hazel of his eyes. When his eyebrows were both visible, it was clear that one drooped slightly, giving him the appearance of a man always assessing, always thinking of a snappy comeback. His mouth was perfection: full lips that Zack wanted nothing more than to kiss there and then. “There’s not a thing wrong with you.”
Nolan’s lips tightened into a thin line. “That’s naive and hurtful.”
“You said you weren’t attractive any longer. My comment was directed at that statement, not your injuries.”
“You have no idea what it’s like to look at yourself in the mirror and hate what you see.” Nolan stood, leaving little space between them. “You have no idea what it’s like to pass by that mirror in the lobby every day, catch a glimpse of yourself, and not recognize that it’s you. To continuously hear screams in your head whenever you sit too long and suddenly your leg and back cramp up until you can’t breathe for the pain.”
Zack wanted nothing more than to wrap Nolan in his arms and hold him, but given the look on Nolan’s face, he knew the gesture wouldn’t be appreciated. “You’re right. I don’t. I only know the man who’s overcome so much in a short period of time. I see you set your mind to a task, whether you know how to do it or not, and get things done. You’re kind and funny and smart, and you might struggle, but you don’t let it control your life. I don’t think if I lived through what you did that I would’ve come out the other side as half the man I see standing before me.”
Nolan’s gaze slipped away as he gripped the edge of his desk. “I’m broken.”
“No, you’re different. I might not know all the details, but you went through something horrific. That’ll change you.” He reached out for Nolan’s hair, pausing long enough to telegraph his actions and give Nolan time to stop him. When he didn’t, Zack lifted the fringe and looked at the ragged scar that ran along the edge of his hairline. “This isn’t ugly. It’s proof of life. Would it help you to tell me how it happened?”
Nolan opened his mouth, breathed in as if to speak, then closed it again and shook his head. “No . . . I’d rather not. Maybe sometime.”
Zack was surprised at a pang of disappointment, but he shrugged it off. “Your call, but I still say it means you survived.” He let the hair fall back into place and went to his office. “So, what’s my first meeting this morning?”
Nolan was still standing where he’d left him, even as Zack reclaimed his seat. Zack watched as Nolan’s shaking hand reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear, then pulled a thick hank forward to mask the side of his forehead again. “You have a call with Chris at the UK office.”
“Thank you.” Zack’s heart raced as he dialed the extension.
The rest of the morning was spent with Zack trying to not let Nolan notice he was looking at him, and Nolan playing with Ralph. The tension between them still simmered, but it had changed into something different. He’d probably said the wrong thing and offended Nolan. If that was the case, then he’d apologize again and offer to find him a new position.
Which was the last thing he wanted.
Shortly before noon, Zack glanced up to see Nolan’s entire demeanor change. Gone was the pensive, soulful expression, replaced with tension. Ralph was set down on his desk and Nolan was quickly straightening his things. That wasn’t normal for him—