Chapter 12
He didn’t want to do this.
More than that, he wasn’t sure he could do this. Daniel had never had such a strong reaction before, had never had these thoughts running through his head. Especially not for his regular, Gary.
He was a nice enough man, never asked for anything Daniel wasn’t willing to give.
He was a good tipper, didn’t go over time, and made sure Daniel was ready and comfortable before plowing him into every surface of the hotel room.
He didn’t even force him out the moment the sex was over.
Normally, they’d sit and talk for another hour or so.
Daniel had become invested in Gary’s life over the past two years, caring about his daughter’s soccer team and his knucklehead son that was no longer allowed to drive Gary’s expensive car.
More so, he cared about Gary and how the man didn’t feel like he could come out without burning down his own life.
Daniel, in his infinite dumbass illusions, once thought he was being a Good Samaritan. He’d thought that by providing a willing hole for Gary to fuck, he was giving the man a safe place to truly be himself.
Daniel’s heart no longer felt safe. Backing up, he pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked the dark screen.
His text conversation with Jensen was still pulled up, just like it was most of the time now.
It was pointless to navigate out of the messages when it was basically the only thing he used his phone for these days.
The last message, which Daniel hadn’t responded to, came just minutes after their phone call ended.
I’ll be up waiting if you want to call me after.
Jensen’s easy acceptance of Daniel’s job infuriated him.
He wanted Jensen to be pissed at him for continuing to have sex with other people.
He wanted Jensen to scream at him, to threaten to block his number.
He wanted Jensen to call him names, tell him he was worse than nothing for going back to his actual job.
He wanted … He wanted Jensen to be there holding him, offering him soft words through lips pressed against his hair, and promising Daniel that everything would be okay.
It was Tyler’s first night back, the man finally to full health after a series of complications, and with horribly perfect timing, it was also Gary’s standing monthly appointment.
Daniel had been doing his level best to pretend he didn’t see the note in his calendar.
He’d been ignoring Tyler’s updates, dutifully given by Lucinda, who’d apologized more than once for keeping Daniel behind the bar.
Daniel had also been ignoring his bank account and had gone back to using his credit card so he had enough cash to cover his bills.
But he couldn’t ignore his reality any longer. Not when his eyes were darting between the sweet and understanding messages Jensen had been sending him all day and the door separating him and Gary.
This was fucked up. His whole life was fucked up, and it was his own damn fault.
He had chosen to start working at the Lillian all those years ago, and then every day since he’d chosen to continue working there.
He hadn’t had to take out a stupid amount of student loans, then not finish college.
No one had forced him to rack up credit card debt.
And he certainly hadn’t had to open his heart and start falling for a man that was too nice and honest for his own good.
But there was nothing Daniel could do about any of that in the moment.
He had a job to do, and even though it might kill him a little bit inside, he had to see it through.
No one was going to save him from his own mistakes, and he didn’t need them to.
Daniel would get through this, just like he got through everything else.
It was fine. He was fine.
With shaking hands, he put his phone back in his pocket and reached for the door.
“Jensen,” Daniel said, his voice barely a strangled whisper.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” Jensen’s steady and gentle command had Daniel’s heart thumping even more painfully than before.
Daniel shook his head, his hair smacking wetly on his skin.
He’d made it as far as getting undressed on the bed with Gary before every cell in his body revolted.
With hysterical excuses, Daniel had hastily put his clothes back on, then ran from the hotel, head down and skin crawling.
He should have checked in with his boss and told her he was going home, but he hadn’t.
Instead, he’d driven back to his shared house with numb hands and empty pockets and taken a scorching shower.
If anyone else was in the house, they’d probably be outraged at him using all the hot water, but Daniel didn’t have it in him to care.
His sanity hinged on him scrubbing the feeling from his skin until he was red and just as raw on the outside as he was on the inside.
“It’s okay, Daniel.” Jensen’s soft words pierced the little cocoon of blankets Daniel had made between his bed and nightstand.
“It’s not okay,” he said, bile coming up his throat and instilling venom in his words. “I almost let another man fuck me, Jensen. How are you okay with that?”
“I just am. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m okay with your job. I understand it’s how you make money, and I’m not mad at you.”
A lump took residence in Daniel’s stomach as new, nastier worries sprang up in his mind.
Jensen truly didn’t care about his job; that much was evident.
The man didn’t lie. He was forthcoming in his opinions about things, even when it was less than polite.
Which begged the question, Why wasn’t Jensen upset?
Was it because he didn’t care about Daniel?
Was this all some sort of kink he was exploring?
Or maybe Jensen wasn’t in as deep as Daniel was.
Because Daniel sure as shit would care if Jensen was fucking other people.
Which, fuck, he might be. They hadn’t ever defined what they were to each other.
He’d been naively operating under the assumption that Jensen was falling for him.
And if he wasn’t, well, Daniel wasn’t sure he could handle the rejection.
“What the fuck is this, Jensen?” he asked, not sure if he was angry or heartbroken or losing his mind, squished between his beat-up bed frame and secondhand nightstand and all the hopes he’d once had for his future.
“You aren’t mad about my job? Does that mean you aren’t mad about me?
Because I sure as shit haven’t been spending the last three weeks being fucking casual with you. ”
“Come spend the week with me.”
Daniel choked on his own spit. “What?”
“I’ll book your flights. Just tell me when you can leave and when you have to be back. But please come spend the week with me.”
“I don’t know,” he said, laying his heavy head on his blanket-covered knee. He was so tired. The roller coaster of emotions he’d experienced that day had taken everything out of him. Daniel couldn’t remember how he’d been able to detach himself from his work before now.
It seemed impossible that he’d flirted around and touched strangers for years without it affecting him. Of course, that thought only dumped more anger into the piss pot of sour emotions tunneling through him.
Why now? Why was he no longer impervious to all the negative mental side effects that made others quit after just a few months?
He was stronger than this. He had to be stronger than this because he had no other options.
If he couldn’t continue with sex work, he might as well sign into a homeless shelter now.
“Daniel,” Jensen whispered, the soft plea thundering through the syllables. “Come see me. I’m not good with words, so let me show you what the last few weeks have been for me.”
And just like that, all the worry and anger slipped through Daniel’s fingers, leaving him feeling hollow and aching for a simple hug. He was all over the place, and part of him knew he should refuse Jensen’s request. At least until he could get himself under control and figure his life out.
It wasn’t fair to dump all his burdens on the sweet man who had immeasurably brightened his days.
Daniel should find a new job, figure out all his bullshit, pay off his debts, and then when he might actually be worthy of Jensen’s affections, he should resume this relationship.
Right now, he had nothing to offer Jensen except for his body, which was barely worth his per-hour charge.
“I need you, Daniel. I need you in my life, and that’s why I’m okay with your job,” Jensen carried on, mistaking his silence for refusal.
“If I get to hear you talk about the weather and get pictures of your iced coffee and watch while you brush your teeth from a few thousand miles away, then nothing else matters. I can handle anything as long as I get to hear your voice every day. If you told me you wanted to be a hit man, I would make you a house with a basement to keep all your victims’ bodies in. ”
“You’d build me a house?” Daniel asked wetly.
“Oh, heavens no. I can’t stand sawdust. But I would pay someone to build a house I designed for you.
Well, several people because anyone who says they can do everything from foundations to framing to plumbing to electrical all by themselves is a liar and should have their licenses looked at.
I would hire a few teams, after a rigorous bidding process during which I’ll be reviewing their past work to make sure it’s up to my standards. ”
“Jensen,” Daniel exclaimed with a laugh.
“Of course, I’ll need to get a real estate agent in the city, which I’m loath to do. I can’t tell you how much I hated working with one when I bought my house, but—”
“Jensen,” Daniel interrupted again, “I’ll come visit you.”
“You will?”
“Why do you sound surprised?” He leaned back against the textured wall, the smallest of smiles on his lips.