Chance to Bloom Page 14

  Jack sat back in his chair and exhaled in a loud whoosh. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words came out.

  Ethan nibbled at his lip, wanting to reach out and comfort Jack, but wondering if maybe he’d crossed another line.

  Before he could make up his mind, though, Jack stood up abruptly, his eyes still bright with emotion. Ethan could tell that he was trying to smile, but the expression came across as more of a wince.

  “Thanks, Ethan. I was just wondering. And thanks for lunch, but I’ve gotta go.”

  “No problem, but you don’t have to thank me. I—”

  Ethan swallowed back the rest of his words. He wanted to make sure Jack knew he was around anytime Jack wanted to talk. He wanted to tell Jack that everything really was gonna be okay. Sometime. And he wanted to point out that he should be the one thanking Jack, since Jack had bought lunch for Ethan.

  But he couldn’t say any of those things—or rather, he could, but Jack wouldn’t have heard, because he was already halfway up the back stairs before Ethan could find the rest of the words that had died in his throat.

  Ethan stood up and quickly brushed at his cheeks, suddenly finding himself close to tears. He gathered up the discarded napkins and wrappers from lunch, wondering how their conversation had managed to go off the rails so quickly.

  The tension and raw emotion of the previous few minutes had been a lot more than what he’d been prepared for, and he still didn’t know quite what to think.

  He just knew that even though he’d told the truth—even though Jack had asked—he’d somehow managed to give too much information, or the wrong information, or something. He’d hurt Jack, and Ethan couldn’t help but feel that it was mostly his fault.

  But if what he’d said had been wrong, what was the right thing to say? And if he could figure that out… would Jack even want to hear it?

  Ethan glanced at the clock, then at the back staircase. Again. It was what he’d been doing all afternoon, ever since Jack had disappeared up there after their aborted lunch.

  Every time the door would open, Ethan’s heart would race and he would hold his breath, anxious and hopeful that Jack would appear on the stairs and that they’d be able to talk about what had happened earlier.

  And every damn time, his anxiety was replaced with disappointment when it turned out to be the movers again, rumbling down the staircase like a herd of elephants and crashing through the shop on their way out to the parking lot.

  It was maddening.

  But even though Ethan had quickly become tired of seeing the movers, the silence that fell around him when they finally left wasn’t any better. It might have actually been worse.

  There was still plenty of work to do before he left for the evening, but all Ethan could manage to do was watch the clock and wonder when Jack would appear again.

  Wonder if Jack was okay.

  By the time Frankie finally came back at four from his deliveries, Ethan was nearly beside himself.

  “Hey, Ethan, how’s it going? What have I missed today? I would’ve been back sooner, but I stopped by the nursing home and my grandma’s friends wanted to know all about the flowers I brought last time, and you know, I just couldn’t say no…” Frankie’s bright voice rang out in the silent shop, his enthusiastic babbling for once failing to lift Ethan’s spirits.

  All Ethan could think about was how he needed to get out of there.

  To get upstairs.

  To get to Jack.

  “Oh, no worries,” Ethan tried to flash a quick smile in Frankie’s direction and hoped it didn’t look as forced as it had felt. “Hey, can you watch the counter for a few minutes? I, um, need to check on… something.”

  “Sure.” Frankie’s brows furrowed and he watched curiously as Ethan practically leapt off the creaky stool behind the front counter.

  Ethan didn’t care, though. And even though he knew Frankie would have dozens of questions for him later, he couldn’t be bothered to worry about that, either.

  He barely even heard Frankie’s response, in fact. He was already nearly to the back staircase when he turned and nodded absently behind him.

  “Thanks,” he called out, trusting that Frankie would understand.

  Hopefully.

  Later.

  Ethan took the stairs two at a time, only pausing when he got to the top and was finally standing in front of Jack’s door. Did he even know what he was going to say when and if he saw Jack?

  No. No, he didn’t.

  But that didn’t matter. He’d think of something. Or he’d just apologize and hope Jack didn’t hate him after their earlier conversation. The important thing was that he spoke to Jack—the specifics weren’t as important. He just wanted Jack to know that he wasn’t alone. Not as alone as he thought he was, anyway. Not as long as Ethan was around.

  Before he could stop himself or talk himself out of it, he knocked. And waited.

  And waited.

  Just when he’d nearly convinced himself that Jack actually did hate him and never wanted to see or speak to him again, the door opened.

  “Jack, thank goodness.” Ethan shook his head. Wrong. “I mean… hi. Can we talk? Just for a minute?”

  Ethan nibbled his lip as he waited for a reply. Jack’s eyes were red and puffy and his cheeks looked damp from crying. Ethan felt a new surge of guilt at the way their conversation had gone, and wanted nothing more than to take Jack into his arms and tell him everything was going to be okay.

  Except by the way Jack was silently standing there, still not replying, Ethan wasn’t sure if he could make that assumption. Maybe everything wasn’t going to be okay between them.

  Jack looked as if he might finally say something, but instead just sighed and nodded, stepping aside to let Ethan into the small apartment.

  Ethan gratefully hurried inside, wanting to put some space between himself and the door just in case Jack suddenly changed his mind. At the very least, Ethan wanted enough time to get an apology in.

  He’d been so focused on making sure Jack was okay that it took him a few seconds to notice how different the apartment looked. Ethan had only been up there a handful of times over the years, but he sucked in a sharp breath at the changes. It didn’t feel cramped anymore, the way it always had when it had been stuffed with Gary’s old furniture and papers and books. Now, it was nearly empty. The couch and small round dining table were the only reminders that Gary had ever even lived there.

  He knew it was only a matter of time before those reminders were gone, too.

  “Not much left,” Jack said, as if he’d been reading Ethan’s mind again. “Did you wanna sit down?”

  Ethan nodded. His nerves had been momentarily pushed aside by the surprise of seeing the bare apartment, but when he and Jack sat down on the threadbare sofa, just inches away from each other, those nerves returned with full force.

  He was struck again by just how big Jack was. His tall, wide frame, with his massive expanse of chest, huge biceps and hands—hands that Ethan just wanted to take in his own—all seemed strangely out of place in the small space, almost comical as Jack tried to get comfortable on the old, brittle sofa next to him.

  “I just, um, wanted to…” Ethan looked away for a moment as his voice trailed off. Wanted to what, exactly? Should he admit that he’d just needed to check on Jack? To just be near him, even if only for a few minutes? Maybe that truth could wait a little longer. “I wanted to apologize. For earlier. I probably shouldn’t have—”

  “No,” Jack said, flatly.

  Ethan’s gaze snapped back to Jack’s, waiting for him to say something—anything—else, but Jack simply shook his head.

  “No?” Ethan repeated.

  “You don’t need to apologize. Not for anything. I should, though.” He turned a little, angling himself so that he was sort of facing Ethan, with their legs touching. “I didn’t mean to get so deep earlier, and I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I’m sorry.”

  Eth
an smiled, a feeling of relief washing over him. Jack didn’t hate him. He wasn’t mad. He clearly felt just as bad and weird about lunch as Ethan had. Thank God.

  “You didn’t need to apologize, either,” Ethan said. “But thank you. And I don’t mind that things got kind of deep. I wanted to tell you earlier that you can talk to me anytime. About anything.” He swallowed hard, then continued. “I get that we don’t really know each other that well, but… I see you. I know you’re hurting. And I’m here for you.”

  Jack gave him a hard, long look, his eyes silently searching Ethan’s for several seconds. “Thank you,” he whispered, finally, drawing in a ragged breath. “Nobody has ever said anything like that to me. Not since—” He looked away, then back again, his eyes welling up with tears. “Not in a long, long time. Earlier, when I asked you that about my dad, I just… I wanted to understand. I just wanted—”

  He choked back whatever else he’d been about to say as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Ethan leaned in, instinctively raising his hand to wipe it away. He didn’t pause to think, he just reacted, just wanted to make things right for Jack. But when his thumb brushed across Jack’s cheek, the touch sent a jolt through Ethan’s body that he wasn’t prepared for. Even though he was suddenly aware that Jack was looking at him in a way that made him feel very close and very vulnerable, Ethan didn’t want it to stop. And he still hadn’t taken his hand away from Jack’s face.

  Jack turned his head until Ethan’s thumb and fingers brushed over his lips, sending another jolt—as well as a full-body shudder—through Ethan.

  “I’m sorry,” Ethan whispered, his throat so dry that the words barely came out. He started to pull his hand away, but Jack caught him, his touch gentle but firm as he held Ethan’s hand in place and kissed it softly before letting go.

  “No,” Jack said. “I told you before, don’t apologize. Not for anything. Especially not for… this.”

  Ethan felt a little dizzy, a little breathless as he tried to make sense of the situation. His mind was swimming as his fantasies, his desires—every thought he’d secretly had about Jack over the previous weeks—suddenly seemed to be very real and very much within reach.

  Still, there was something he needed to clear up before his head and his heart would let him go any further.

  “Jack, I need to ask you something,” Ethan said, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest that he thought it might just burst. “I just need to know… are you… gay?”

  Jack’s features softened as a wide grin spread across his face. “Um… yeah. Sort of?” He started out tentatively, even looking a little sheepish as his grin started to falter. He stopped himself and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as he nodded. “I mean… yes. Definitely. I am… I am.” Jack’s smile returned, even wider than before. “It’s just the first time I’ve said that out loud. But I’m glad you asked, and I’m glad to finally say it.”

  Ethan’s breath hitched in his chest, and he had to blink hard to keep from spilling the happy tears that had started to well up. This was a big moment in Jack’s life, and he wanted to take the time to celebrate it.

  “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” Ethan said, suddenly feeling at a loss for words, even though he was happier than he’d been in a long time.

  He’d somehow ended up closer to Jack than he’d been when they’d first sat down, and even though his brain told him that he should probably back away for all sorts of good, valid reasons, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in, lips parted.

  Hoping.

  Ethan’s pulse quickened as he saw the heat flare in Jack’s eyes, and then it happened. Their lips met, and Jack’s mouth was on his, hot and hard, the feel of rough stubble scratching against him as Jack’s large, rough hands pulled him closer.

  Whatever reasonable objections Ethan’s brain had come up with—that Jack was his boss, that Jack needed a shoulder to cry on, that Jack needed a friend—went out the window as soon as Ethan felt those hands on his body. He gave himself over to the moment completely, and didn’t give a single thought or care to the small, needy noises that were coming from his throat.

  He wanted that kiss—wanted Jack—more than he was ready to admit, and finally getting a taste of him felt too good to stop. Ethan slipped his hands between their bodies, just enough to let them roam over the massive expanse of muscles that made up Jack’s chest and arms. Damn, the man was built like a Greek god, and Ethan couldn’t get enough. Especially not when his touch earned a low, sexy moan from Jack.

  But he had to stop. He had to.

  Ethan didn’t want just a fling—or whatever this was. And he didn’t want to mess with Jack’s head. He’d gone to Jack’s apartment to apologize, to comfort Jack—not to jump his bones.

  He had to get it together.

  “Jack,” he panted. “Oh my God, Jack.” He pressed his hands against Jack’s chest, probably not as firmly or as convincingly as he should have, a part of him—mainly a hard, throbbing part—still not convinced that he needed to stop at all.

  Luckily, Jack seemed responsive to his every touch and whimper, and as soon as Ethan said his name, he immediately pulled back, just as quickly and completely as he had leaned into that initial kiss.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack said, scooting back on the couch and reaching down to smooth himself and adjust the very noticeable bulge in his pants. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “No.” It was Ethan’s turn to shake his head as he recited Jack’s earlier words back to him. “Please don’t apologize. It was…”

  Everything I wanted.

  Wonderful.

  Amazing.

  Perfect.

  “I don’t want to stop.” Ethan went on after a moment of awkward silence, since all those other truths felt like too much. “But we should. Because…”

  Because why, again?

  Ethan couldn’t really remember, even though he was pretty sure he’d had a good reason. But he knew for sure that if he didn’t get up and leave right then, right that moment, that he would give in to the temptation to go right back to kissing Jack. And even though that didn’t sound like a bad thing at all, he had to leave, at least just to get some space and perspective on what had just happened.

  “Just because,” he finished, giving Jack an apologetic shrug. “And I should go. Like, right now.”

  Jack swallowed hard, but didn’t argue, thank God. If Jack had come back with even a halfway decent excuse for Ethan to stay, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to refuse. But that didn’t happen. Instead, Jack stood up and helped Ethan to his feet, leading the way to the door and inadvertently taunting Ethan with the toned, muscular ass that had been just within reach a moment before.

  And then the door was open and Jack was looking at him expectantly, no doubt just waiting for him to leave the way he’d said he had to. But unfortunately, Ethan’s traitorous body had decided to do its own thing again, and his feet remained firmly in place.

  “So, um,” Ethan rocked back on his heels and tried to suppress the smile that was spreading across his face as he thought about what had just happened. He’d actually just kissed Jack. Like, a lot. And even though it was confusing and sudden and literally the last thing he’d expected to have happen when he’d headed up the stairs, it had been nice. Really nice. Better than nice. Perfect. “I should probably go.”

  The corners of Jack’s mouth twitched, and he cocked his head to the side a little. “You said that already. And I’d kind of like to convince you not to. But I respect your decision and I’ll hold off on that… for now.”

  “Oh, right. Well, I should.” Ethan’s feet finally started working again and quickly carried him out the door and toward the stairs before he stopped and turned. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Here—I mean, downstairs? At work?”

  Jack laughed, the sound spilling out into the hallway and making Ethan mirror his wide smile. “Ethan, I want to see more of you. A lot more. All the time, and whenever you’re ready. So yes, I’ll d
efinitely be here. And downstairs. At work.”

  Ethan rocked back on his heels, unsure if he wanted to prolong the moment or just get the hell out. Oh, God. Leave now, before you say something stupid. Something else stupid. “Oh my—” he swallowed hard. “Great. Okay, me too. I um… want to see more of you, too.”

  “I’m glad we can agree on that,” Jack said, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he was trying to hold back more laughter.

  Still, Jack didn’t move, and neither did Ethan.

  Did Jack want to say something more? Was he waiting for Ethan to say something else?

  But no… he was probably just being polite, just waiting for Ethan to leave. Since Jack was the one who lived there, and Ethan was the one who kept saying he needed to leave.

  Shit.

  Okay.

  Get out.

  And before either of them could say anything else or before Ethan could embarrass himself any further, he simply gave a little wave and ran back down the stairs to the shop as quickly as he could.

  Chapter 14

  Jack

  Jack leaned back in the creaky old desk chair and looked at the clock. He shoved a hand back through his short hair, slowly exhaling the breath he’d been holding in. The day hadn’t even really started yet, and he was already a nervous wreck.

  After Ethan had left his apartment the afternoon before, every thought that had entered Jack’s head had revolved around him. The sense of comfort and relief Jack had felt when he’d opened the door to see Ethan standing there. The way Ethan’s eyes had sparkled when they’d been saying goodbye. The way his body had felt when Jack had pulled him close.

  Jack had even sort of cried in front of Ethan, for God’s sake. That was only something a handful of people on the planet had seen—and all of them but Ethan had been Marines, and all under much more traumatic circumstances than what Jack was currently facing in Bridgewater.