Page 62 of We Were Never Lovers
Sean sank down on the couch, rested his head back and willed away his humiliation. He was cracked open and there for Jack to shit all over. Again. Fuck, why was he so stupid for this idiot?
“Look,” Jack said, voice rumbling yet tremulous. “When you get your memories back—”
Sean cut him off with a bitter laugh. “It’s not coming back, man. I know that, the docs know that, the team knows that. The only one who doesn’t know that is you.”
Jack didn’t say anything. Sean looked over at him. He looked devastated. It shook something up in Sean.
“I’m still here,” he said as gently as he could then hated himself anew. Why was he consoling him?
“I know,” Jack said, voice cracking. “And I’m so fuckin’ glad, but…”
“But what?” Sean asked, closed off again.
“But I can’t explain what you know,” Jack said after a moment.
And that was cryptic as fuck.
“Can’t you?” Sean asked. “I just don’t get why you’re bein’ so cagey. Like, I worked it out with the fucking, you wanna not talk about it, I get that. But why can’t you tell me this other stuff?”
“Because,” Jack said and took a deep breath, rushed his reply on the exhale. “Because if you don’t believe me…”
“Don’t believe what?” Sean sat up and threw his hands up in the same movement.
Jack rubbed his face. “We shouldn’t do this now, we should be sober.”
Sean snorted. “Like you’re gonna say anything when you’re sober.”
Jack didn’t reply, which confirmed it.
Lola jumped up on the couch next to him and Sean tugged her in.
“I’m goin’ to bed,” Jack declared, obnoxiously loud as if he were pretending to be drunker than he was.
“Of course you are,” Sean muttered.
Jack hesitated. Sean didn’t say anything—what was there left to say? If Jack wouldn’t tell him what’d happened betweenthem, Sean couldn’t force him. He’d tried and it had gotten him nowhere. An uncomfortable silence fell over them and Sean focused on patting Lola.
“I’ll see you in there?” Jack asked quietly.
Sean shook his head, bewildered, but of course he’d go.
“Yeah,” he said on an exhale.
“Okay.”
Jack’s socked feet padded down the hall and Sean pressed his face into Lola’s fur. “I wish you could talk,” he said to her, “you know everythin’, don’t ya girl?”
She wriggled her head out and licked his face. He huffed a laugh and cuddled her. She might be Jack’s dog, but she was totally on Sean’s side.
The room was dark when Sean crept in, but he could make out Jack’s bulk under the covers, his back to the door. He was breathing quietly. Sean slipped under the blanket, wondered for a moment what he was doing. Well, he knew what he was doing—this was as good an invitation to fuck as he’d ever get, but was that what he wanted? Physically, he wanted it. But with everything so fraught, he wondered if heshouldwant this.
He shuffled close, not touching, just watching the rise and fall of Jack’s shoulders peeking above the covers, the warmth of his body palpable in the gap. He was about to reach out, place his hand on Jack’s back when Jack rolled over, mirrored Sean’s position on his side. His eyes were shiny, catching the streetlight, intent on Sean’s. His breath ghosted over Sean’s face, the smell minty.
Sean reached up, his hand unsteady as he traced his thumb under Jack’s eye, over the bridge of his nose. Jack closed his eyes and exhaled shakily.
Talk to me, Sean wanted to implore him.Please fucking talk to me.
He scooted closer, hooked his leg over Jack’s hip and tugged him in. He slid his hand down to cup his jaw, the stubble scratchy against his palm. He remembered Jack as a super clean-cut guy, a shave every day type. But since he’d been living with him, he’d noticed Jack go days without, the blonde hair looking sharp and white in the sunlight. He’d look good with a beard, like a scruffy surfer.
