“It’s… complicated between us. We’ve got history.” And boy, was that history terrible.
Gale bit his lip and leaned forward, pulling on each of his fingers. “You know I like you, right?”
Roach’s stomach clenched. He did. Never thought about it actively, but now that the issue was put in front of him, he needed to acknowledge it. “It’s just… I know it’s not what you wanna hear, but you’re really young, Gale.”
Gale laughed and rubbed his face, as if the drive from the hospital tired him out. “And I’m not your type. And you’re not over Zane. I just wanted to… you know, to tell you. He’s wrong about pushing you away.”
“Oh, I’ve done shit, Gale. I’m no angel. We’re in limbo with Zane, but I’m not over him. Taking it one day at a time.” Roach chuckled. “I actually slept here yesterday instead of my floor.”
He knew what was coming even before Gale opened his mouth. “It’s your room! What the hell?”
Roach groaned and rubbed his beard. He shouldn’t have laughed about it, because Gale was right: there was nothing funny about his situation. “I know, I know… I can’t say no to him, but you’re right. If this carries on, I’ll have to work out some other arrangement.”
Gale pulled on Roach’s hand, staring at him with those big, honest eyes. “I know I’m not the most stable person right now, but tell me if I can help, all right?”
Roach nodded. “I will. We’ll stick together. I… don’t have any family. You’re important to me. So eat, rest, recover, and call me if you need anything.” After a moment of hesitation, he pressed a kiss to Gale’s forehead.
But it was time to go and find out whether Zane happened to be in a good mood or ready for a fight over bullshit. Fuck knew with him nowadays. Maybe the chaos was part of his appeal? Like a human slot machine. Could get sex and a cuddle, could get a punch in the nuts.
Gale offered him a tired smile and gave Roach’s hand a goodbye squeeze. Roach still didn’t have the money necessary for real treatment for him, but if Zane continued being on board with helping them out, then maybe they could collect enough cash eventually. Or something. Maybe borrow some and then pay back the loan.
He rolled his stiff back when he stepped out into the cool hallway and looked out of the window past the parking lot, at the road, then even farther—toward the hills Zane sometimes walked when it had still been warm. He didn’t know how to approach Zane anymore, because his hot-and-cold attitude was driving Roach mad. But someone had to broach the topic, and Zane would not, which left the ball permanently in Roach’s court.
A hot shiver rolled through his body out of nowhere, and he stopped just short of the staircase, trying to make sense of it. Was it the sole thought of Zane that got him so worked up? Staying away had been torture.
The brand new Karma Motel neon stared at him with its toxic green light, inviting guests for the night, and he stood there, in the parking lot, torn between going home to Zane, and heading off to the bar for a quick jerk off in the bathroom, because the growing arousal was becoming an itch he couldn’t scratch.
His gaze gravitated to their door at the very end of the left wing. What was Zane up to now? Was he feeling the heat streaming up and down Roach’s chest t—?
His nipple burned, as if someone had tugged on it. Hard.
He grabbed his own pec protectively, weirded out. Was Zane masturbating?
Roach should have turned around, mounted his bike, and driven off to another state, but the temptation was too much. The image of Zane splayed out on the bed, stroking his cock with one hand and pulling on his nipple with the other was an aphrodisiac that made Roach move his feet faster.
He didn’t know what he’d do once he entered the room but only realized this once he reached the door and cupped his crotch to give himself time to think. One way or another, Zane would be the death of him.
The soft moan coming from inside had Roach’s skin on fire, and he rolled his forehead against the wood, practically seeing Zane’s hips rise off the mattress to fuck his tight fist, but reality hit soon after. That voice hadn’t sounded like Zane’s at all.
Hot coals sizzled in his skull, and he didn’t have a human brain in there anymore but something much more primal. The one answer he’d accept was that Zane was watching porn.
He fumbled to get his keys, increasingly frantic. “I’m back! Get decent.”
But as he pushed the door, his mind a tangle of worms that wouldn’t stop eating through his skull until he made sure all was fine, a single shove from the other side shut it right back.