Page 58 of Hot Streak

“What?”

“I said, why don’t you let me do that for you?” Connor reached for the tube of ointment and plucked it easily out of Jackson’s fingers.

Jackson didn’t fight him. Didn’t even argue. Just stared at him, like he couldn’t quite believe what Connor was saying.

What made Connor hesitate, his hand hovering near Jackson’s side, wasn’t that he was about to touch Jackson’s bare skin, but how Jackson was so thrown by the fact he’d volunteered to do it.

“This okay?” Connor asked, kneading the tube in his palm. Trying to warm it. Also trying to postpone the inevitable a moment longer, even as he desperately wanted to do it.

“You uh . . .doing this?” Jackson asked.

Connor didn’t think he’d ever seen him hesitate this much. Sure, they hadn’t known each other that long, but he’d never felt this way before. Not about a woman. Definitely not about a man.

“Yeah.”

“Sure, uh, yes. I can’t seem to do it myself,” he said.

But Connor didn’t miss how he braced himself. Was it for the inevitable bloom of pain as Connor’s fingers brushed his bruise? Or for something else?

“Happy to help,” Connor murmured. If he didn’t do it now, he’d lose his nerve. And he really didn’t want to lose his nerve.

Squeezing out a portion of ointment onto his fingertips, he reached out and, as gently as he could, smoothed it along the blooming red and purple edges.

Jackson quaked. Because of the pain? Because of something else?

Connor didn’t know. He didn’t ask. But he didn’t stop.

It was a big bruise and he wanted to make sure every bit of it was covered. And, if he was being very honest with himself, he liked touching Jackson, even like this.

His skin was so much smoother than he’d expected, unexpectedly soft with all that hard bunched muscle underneath. Connor wanted more. So much more.

He didn’t know how else to say so, but at least he could make sure he covered every bit of bruised skin with the ointment. Gave Jackson the relief he’d earned.

Leaning in closer, he let his world close in tight to just him, Jackson, and the exposed skin of his side.

He must have hit a particularly sensitive spot, then, because Jackson exhaled sharply. Connor glanced up and he realized he was practically on top of the guy, his body cradled around Jackson’s.

Jackson’s eyes were dark and wide, his face flushed.

Connor wondered if he had the same look on his face.

“I . . .uh . . .I think you got it all,” Jackson said quietly.

“Think there’s a little more here,” Connor insisted, not ready for this moment to end. His fingertips brushed the ridge of a muscle, tracing the sickly green edges of the bruise.

“I don’t . . .I didn’t . . .” Jackson stuttered. “This isn’t something I’m used to. Guys doing this. Or guys . . .uh . . .being on my bed.”

Connor found his eyes again. “What?” Was he saying what Connor thought he was saying? That guys wouldn’t touch him the same? Avoided even sitting on the edge of his bed? Because he was gay?

Ugh, what assholes. What insensitive, fucking assholes. Connor wanted to throw at each and every one of their heads.

“You heard me,” Jackson said.

“I did, but I think it’s bullshit. I just . . .I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.” Connor knew he should hesitate. Think through this a little better, but once he started talking, he couldn’t really stop. “How could I do that to you when I . . .when I . . .feel the same way you do? When I’m . . .” Connor swallowed hard. What was he even? He didn’t know. “When I feel attracted to men too?”

If Connor had thought Jackson had been astonished over his offer to help, he was shocked now.

He reared back and put some distance between them.

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