Page 44 of Melting His Grumpy Heart
Had he?
The sound of movement overhead brought him back to the present. Jake, seeking refuge in the attic. Ru pressed his lips together in a thin line. It made a change from sodding well chopping wood, at least. Straightening up, he flexed his shoulders, shaking off the descent into self-doubt. No, he hadn’t imagined any of it.
Somethinghad caused Jake to retreat behind his walls.
Ru stared down into his cooling tea, knowing he had two choices. He could accept Jake’s withdrawal, pretend nothing had happened, allow them to revert to the cautious strangers they’d been just a tiny handful of days before. Or, he could confront Jake, and try to understand what had caused his retreat.
Both courses of action made the knots in his stomach tighten and pull. He felt slightly sick, but the second option came with a large side order of fear. Because what if Jake refused to talk to him? What if he said Ru was imagining what wasn’t there? What if he said they’d had the hottest, most incredible sex ever, but sex was all it was, something to enjoy in the moment but nothing more?
Ru rubbed his stomach, willing it to settle.
The sounds of movement above continued, Jake methodically checking for leaks, or whatever it was he was pretending to do. Ru’s lips twisted. Whatever had happened this morning had created its own kind of leak, a crack in the walls Jake had built around himself.
Ru’s fingers tightened around his mug. He’d been here before. Hadn’t he invested in someone who couldn’t or wouldn’t let him in fully, who’d maintained emotional distance? Cooper, who’d been so self-absorbed even if Ru had chosen to pretend otherwise. He’d been hurt, made to feel stupid, but he’d also made a quiet promise to himself to never make himself small again, or to be so damn accepting, even if it did scare the living daylights out of him.
He knew what he had to do because there was only one choice. He wouldn’t demand explanations or issue ultimatums, he couldn’t make Jake tell him what had gone so wrong. But he wouldn’t pretend, either. He wouldn’t act as though this morning had been casual or inconsequential, not when it felt like his whole world had shifted and changed.
Ru jumped to his feet before he could change his mind, abandoning his tepid tea. His heart beat a little faster as he approached the stairs, a fluttering nervousness taking root in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what he’d say, exactly, only that something needed to be said, a bridge extended across the sudden chasm between them.
The stairs creaked beneath his feet as he climbed, following the sounds of movement now coming from the hallway near Jake’s bedroom. He found Jake there, positioned beneath an open attic hatch, one foot braced on the first rung of a small stepladder placed beneath it.
“Need help?”
Jake’s eyes widened for a split second. “No, it’s fine, but thanks for offering.”
Jake disappeared into the attic. Ru remained where he was, fidgeting with the cuff of his borrowed jumper, rehearsing and discarding openings for the conversation he dreaded.
Why are you so distant?
Too accusatory.
Are you okay?
Too vague.
Did I do something wrong?
Too self-centred, putting Jake in the position of having to reassure him.
Nothing felt right, because nothingwasright.
The minutes stretched, filled with the muffled sounds of Jake moving around. Ru’s nervousness grew with each passingmoment, his resolve wavering. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should just retreat, wait out the weather, then leave. Put it all down to a strange, unexpected blip in his life, forget it and carry on as though nothing had happened.
But something had happened. And he would never, ever, be able to forget any of it.
At last, Jake came down from the attic. “You didn’t need to wait here.”
“I disagree.”
Jake’s eyes widened before he ducked his head and folded the ladder. “All dry,” he muttered, “at least for now.”
Ru couldn’t even pretend interest in the state of the attic. He took a breath, steadying himself. “Can we talk?”
Jake’s hands stilled on the ladder, his back to Ru, his shoulders visibly tensing.
“About?” The single word held a wariness that made Ru’s chest ache.
“This morning, and what’s happened since.”
