Page 86 of In Too Deep

Fuck.

No one had ever said it to Jake quite like that. Soft and unguarded, as though missing him was simply something that had happened to Harrison rather than something he’d decided whether he ought to admit. As though Jake was the person he reached for when he was too exhausted to remember all the reasons he thought he shouldn’t.

And even though it was barely more than a mumble, probably something Harrison wouldn’t even remember saying in the morning, Jake felt it somewhere behind his ribs anyway.

He swallowed and pressed another kiss to Harrison’s ear. “Missed you too.”

There.

He’d said it.

And apparently the world hadn’t ended.

“Now c’mon.” Jake smiled against his skin. “Bed.”

Harrison made another sleepy sound. Then his brow pulled tight and his fingers dug suddenly into Jake’s thigh. “Oh, God… Chris.”

Jake froze.

And there went the fucking world.

Of course Harrison was half asleep. Jake knew that. Knew twenty years with someone didn’t disappear because Jake Whitton had wandered into his life and somehow ended up tangled in his bed. Knew grief did weird fucking things to people, especially when they were exhausted.

None of that stopped it hurting.

Because for one stupid, perfect second, Jake had thought Harrison was reaching for him. And now he didn’t know if the hand gripping his thigh, the soft missed you and that little sound Harrison had made when Jake kissed him had belonged to him.

Or to a ghost.

Jake pulled back, and Harrison blinked awake. Properly this time. His gaze darted across the balcony before finding Jake, and Jake watched awareness hit.

Then horror.

“Jake.” Harrison pushed himself upright. “Fuck. Jake, I’m sorry.”

Jake swallowed and looked away. “S’alright.”

It wasn’t.

Maybe it was.

He didn’t fucking know.

He only knew there was suddenly something lodged so tightly in his throat he could barely breathe around it.

Harrison dragged a hand over his face. “Jake, I’m sorry. Christ, I didn’t—”

“Aye.” Jake stood and fumbled the keys from his pocket before Harrison could finish. “You were asleep.”

“Jake—”

But Jake already had the key in the lock and the door open. Because if he looked at Harrison for too long right then, something stupid and wounded might come out. Something he couldn’t take back. And Harrison had come here exhausted and soaked through and waited outside his bedsit for God knew how long. For who knew what. Jake wasn’t going to punish him for something he’d said in his sleep.

Didn’t mean it hadn’t fucking hurt.

Harrison got to his feet too quickly and caught Jake’s arm before he could step through the door. “It’s not her.”

Jake stopped.