Page 17 of Epidermis

He’ll look.

He’ll see.

Broken.

Jasper felt the warmth of Konrad’s breath against lips and reality crashed over him. Panic locked his throat down, his hand pressing against Konrad’s chest, pushing him back. He clamored off the couch and ran a hand through his hair. “No, no. I can’t do this.”

“Have I upset you?”

“That is hard to answer. No? It’s… I’m sorry.” Jasper laughed joylessly, the sound strained and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I need to go home.”

He didn’t wait for Konrad to walk him out. He cut through massive rooms he didn’t belong in, until he was back in the foyer, grabbing his boots but not putting them on because he didn’t want Konrad to catch up. Konrad called out to him as Jasper grabbed his keys off the foyer table. He snatched one of the double doors open and slipped out, his heart trying to break his chest open with how hard it pounded.

The ground was cold through his socks as he walked to the car. He dropped his forehead on the steering wheel as he turned the key in the ignition.

This was a bad idea. Konrad was a bad idea.

Maybe not on paper. Konrad was a gentleman and Jasper was comfortable with him and he was gorgeous. Being a bad idea was no fault of his own. He was just a bad idea for Jasper, because Jasper was too much in relationships. The nightmares, the days where he didn’t feel like speaking more than whatever was necessary, the days he couldn’t shut up. He slammed his forehead against the steering wheel again.

He sent a text before backing out of the driveway.

Jasper (10:26 PM)

I’m sorry

Part of him didn’t expect a text back. But he had one when he got home.

Konrad Iversen (10:27 PM)

You have nothing to be sorry for, I told you to stop me if you wished. Expressing a boundary does not warrant apology.

Of course he was understanding and perfect. Because him being an asshole would have made Jasper’s life too easy.

Jasper didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say.

His dogs must have sensed his turmoil, as they piled up in bed with him once he’d shed his clothes from dinner. He could still feel Konrad’s thumb rubbing circles into his shoulder. Legosi laid her silky head on Jasper’s chest, and Jasper petted her until they both fell asleep, but it wasn’t the same.

He’d gotten a taste for human affection after years of abstinence, and unlike with most addictions, his vice of choice wanted him back—which made it all the harder to give Konrad up.

six

Jasper didn’t go into work the next day, but he did the day after. Konrad brought him lunch, acting no different than he had any other time he’d brought it before. Jasper was the only one being weird. He could barely make eye contact, and when Konrad asked if he wanted to come to the restaurant for dinner after work, Jasper told him he was tired. Maybe another day, Konrad had said.

He ran his hands down his face once Konrad was gone. He knew he was making Konrad feel like he’d done something wrong, but Jasper had no idea how to explain himself without giving some very mixed signals.

“I guess this is a bad time to tell you we’re going to TNTC again?” Hiyori asked once his hands slid off his face. “They apologized for the short notice, but they’ve been having some staffing issues and they’re behind. I guess you didn’t see the email, but you’re up for Best Blackwork Artist.”

Whatever look he gave her made her nod apologetically. The National Tattoo Convention sounded like hell on earth at the moment.

“Yeah, I figured.” She reached over the half wall and patted his arm through his sweater.

He declined a second invitation for dinner two days later, and by the end of the week, Konrad had stopped bringing lunch. He stopped sending texts. Which was fair, given how many he’d sent that had gone unanswered. Jasper was blatantly avoiding him. He couldn’t blame Konrad for backing off, since everything Jasper was doing gave the impression that he didn’t want to see Konrad anymore. He didn’t, in a way. There was no temptation to get too close if he wasn’t near him.

Well, there was less temptation. Being right down the block from the restaurant and having Konrad’s number was still a daily exercise in restraint.

Hiyori gave him a full week to stew in his feelings before broaching the subject he’d been dreading more than her inevitable questions about Konrad’s absence—the awards show. It was being held at a massive tattoo convention, and as a nominee for the biggest award of the night, Jasper was expected to attend.

“No,” he said, not looking up from his sketchbook.