Chapter Eight #2
That hadn’t changed, but now he knew a little more. Nolan had never lost a partner, especially not a spouse, and he couldn’t imagine the pain James carried with him on a regular basis. If that meant he wasn’t open to pursuing anything, then Nolan couldn’t blame him.
Besides, even if he were, James wouldn’t be interested in a bucket of issues like him.
His house stood at the corner of the block, but unlike his usual arrival, the lights were on in the windows.
The shift slugged him right in the chest. He hadn’t realized how deeply the loneliness had settled in his bones until now.
James wasn’t a partner, just a roommate, but having another presence in the house would be a good thing.
He strode up the stairs, anticipation brimming inside him at the thought of being home and not alone for once.
Nolan walked inside as a curse came from the kitchen.
His brows furrowed. He hung his messenger bag on the wall hook and strode to see what was going on with James.
The second he walked into the kitchen, he wanted to walk right back out.
Everything was in disarray. Water pooled on the floor, and James crouched beneath the sink, his head half thrust inside where the pipes were.
Except his mugs weren’t in the right place.
The drying rack on the countertop, the sponges in their containers, the soap dish—they were scattered.
A few towels were bunched beneath the sink, clearly an attempt to clean it up.
Yet all Nolan saw were the mugs, the drying rack, the sponges. His nerves had already been prickling, and they turned to a full roar. He rushed to the countertop and began moving the nearest items around, his hands shaking.
The boom was the sort that traveled up from the earth itself, one that shook the ground as if the end of days had arrived.
One moment, he stood in a break room closet, reaching for more supplies.
The next, boxes and shelves teetered toward him.
Then, pain.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He had to fix it. He had to put everything back in place. His heart sped as if it were on fire, and his arms trembled as he moved the drying rack into its spot. But the area was wet and slippery, and it wouldn’t stay firmly in place. Nolan let out a low curse.
“Oh, shit,” James said, pulling his head back from under the cabinets. “A pipe under the sink burst, but thankfully, you had the necessary tools on hand to deal with the issue. I just got it shut off.”
“Mm,” Nolan said, his tone clipped as his hands shook harder. Fuck, he needed a towel or something to clear this mess up.
James’s gaze zeroed in on him, but Nolan couldn’t answer right now.
Not when the sponges sat on the opposite side of the sink.
Panic rushed through him, the same he’d experienced back then, and he walked to the closet to grab the paper towels.
Once he took them out, he attacked the wet surface by the drying rack, wiping one spot after another until he had cleaned the area to the pristine dryness it needed.
Then he placed the drying rack back in its place.
Nolan sucked in a sharp breath.
“How can I help?” James asked.
“Out. Get out. I just need to fix it,” Nolan spat out, the words coming harsher than intended.
God, his skin felt like it was on fire. The sponges glared at him, needing to be on the opposite side where they belonged. His body vibrated with tension, as if in imminent danger, and even as he tried to suck in deep, steadying breaths, the sense of free-falling into oblivion crept up.
He sorted the sponges, moving them to their proper spot.
Then he moved to the next area, where the mugs were pulled down haphazardly.
Nolan lost himself in paper towels, cleaning spray, and the different areas of his kitchen that James had shuffled around while fixing the water leak.
He focused on breath after breath, trying to settle his nerves, to settle himself.
Bit by bit, the kitchen started to return to normal.
The pieces slotted into place, and Nolan’s breaths began to flow easier. The panic that had gripped him by the throat receded like the tide, and when he slotted the last spatula into its proper spot, relief flooded through him fast and fierce.
He glanced at the clock. Oh, shit, an hour had passed since he got home.
His stomach rumbled, and the adrenaline crashed, leaving him shaky in the aftermath.
Nolan set down the paper towels and cleaning supplies, then glanced around the room.
James wasn’t here. Of course he wasn’t here an hour later.
Queasiness rolled through him. He’d had a full-ass meltdown in front of James, showing how damaged he was.
Guaranteed this was the beginning of the end of their stint as roommates.
Fuck. He was almost too scared to leave the kitchen and find where James went.
Maybe he was in his room, packing his belongings into boxes.
Nolan tossed the last paper towel and left the kitchen. The soft sound of the TV in the living room caught his attention, and he went that way. Better to face the situation now than to avoid it.
James sat sprawled out on his plush gray couch, looking as enticing as anything dressed down in a white tank and loose sweats.
His muscles, the elegant curve of his neck, his prominent nose, and his gorgeous lips were on clear display.
He glanced at Nolan, and his eyes crinkled with his smile.
“Hey, not sure if you’re a Star Trek fan or not, but I was just watching old episodes of Next Gen. ”
Nolan paused for a moment, confused. “Aren’t you upset?”
James’s brows drew together. “About what?”
“My meltdown,” Nolan said, his cheeks heating. “I spent the past hour cleaning the kitchen because things were out of place.”
James shrugged. “You had something you needed to do for your mental peace. Why would I judge you for that?”
Nolan’s eyes stung, and he sucked in a sharp breath. The man said the words so casually as if they weren’t lifechanging. “So, you’re not calling a lawyer to break the lease and move out?”
James’s eyes crinkled, a soft smile on his lips. “Unless you’re kicking me out, no. You established what you needed, which is all I require cue-wise.”
Nolan tugged his bun. His hands were tender and raw from the amount of cleaning chemicals he’d used in the process of getting everything back in place and setting it right.
Fuck. How was James real? He heaved a shaky sigh and took the seat next to James.
The man’s presence overwhelmed him, the scent of him all musk and cedar.
A comfort existed here that made him ache, an understanding he didn’t believe was possible.
“I know you were just handling the issue. Thank you for that. I’m…
uh…not always this bad. The flare-ups have been stronger lately due to outside stressors. ”
James lifted a brow, the movement so slick, so sexy. “That’s bad? Please, sweetheart, you’re fine.”
A shiver coursed through Nolan at his rich, deep voice and the term of endearment.
He didn’t like to be taken care of—in fact, he preferred to take care of others—but something about how James acknowledged him, didn’t try to baby him or anything, caused his chest to tighten.
The shame was what got to him after these episodes, the embarrassment that he had such little control over his impulses.
Past partners had gotten upset with him or treated him like he was made of glass.
James…just remained normal. Acted as if Nolan had emerged from making coffee or heating up leftovers.
And this close, he could feel the man’s heat pouring off him.
His massive arm was slung over the back of the couch, and fuck, Nolan couldn’t help but imagine the way those arms would feel wrapped around him.
He might not like static restraints, but he liked wrestling a whole hell of a lot, and James looked like the kind of guy he could tumble around on the mat with.
His cock plumped, and he shifted in his seat to try to focus on the episode of Next Gen.
“Did you manage to eat during all that cleaning?” James asked.
“Who are you, Meg?” Nolan teased back, even though he appreciated the concern. “In fact, I completely forgot. But I’ve got leftovers to heat up, so I’ll be able to scarf those down.”
“You can change to something else,” James offered, handing him the remote.
Their fingers brushed, and electricity zinged through his veins.
Being this close to James was heaven and hell in the same space.
God, this man lit him up like no one else.
When just the two of them were in the house, he forgot anything else existed.
Sometimes he forgot James wasn’t his and never would be.
That splashed cold water on the cozy feelings bubbling inside him, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m down for more Next Gen. Want a beer with it? I’m going to heat those leftovers up.”
James cracked a grin, the sight sending another burst of lust through him. “Damn, Next Gen and a beer? I can’t think of a better way to unwind.”
Nolan pushed up from the couch and headed for the kitchen. He could ask James for help with Whipped later. Right now, he’d come down from an intense episode with the hottest man on the planet by his side and try not to lose his mind.
He’d hold onto any moments he could get with James, who’d weathered one of his episodes without blinking.
Who made him feel like he wasn’t alone.