Page 76 of Burn It Down

Familiar with his bathroom layout, I grab a washcloth and wet it with warm water. I snag a dry one as well and make my way back to his bed and start to clean him up.

“I can do that,” he says sleepily as I drag the washcloth over his body.

“I know you can. But I’m going to.” His exhaustion is evident in the way he doesn’t argue. I don’t blame him, tonight’s been a lot to process. As much as I’m able to be in the moment during sex, once the orgasm subsides, it never takes long for me to hear my abuelo’s disapproving voice in my head. Which is also why I never do the aftercare. But for the first time, I don’t want to be acompletelyselfish asshole. I’m trying to make up for the other things I can never give Jake, like a reciprocating partner. “How’re you feeling?”

He smiles, but his eyes remain closed. “Like I just took a two-by-four to the ass.”

I chuckle. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, you should.” He finally pops an eye open and reaches for me. “Will you spend the night?”

I’d been hoping he’d ask, but didn’t want to add stress by putting pressure on him.

“Yeah, I’d love to. Mind if I grab a shower really fast?”

He shakes his head, his eyes dancing over my body. I smile at how easy this feels and turn to move to the bathroom, but he grabs my wrist. Giving me a soulful look he asks the question I always dread, except this time, I don’t get defensive because I’ve never heard it phrased like this and it makes me pause.

“Why don’t you ever do any of the acts that require you to be vulnerable with your partner?”

I sit on the edge of the bed, lacing our fingers as I give him the truth. “Being openly gay in my culture comes with pretty big stigmas. My grandfather was both disgusted and disappointed when I came out. He told me a Mendoza gets on his knees for no one and made me promise I never would.” There’s so much more I could say, but I leave it there for now.

Jake is thoughtful for a second before a sad smile breaks out across his face. “That’s fine. I can fuck you while you’re standing up. Problem solved.” He winks before giving me a playful shove off the bed to go clean up.

I grab my phone from the pocket of my suit pants on my way to the shower and shoot Cassie and my dad a text to let them know I’ll be at Jake’s tonight so they don’t worry when I don’t come home.

When I get out of the shower, I forgo the clothes because now that I’m fresh again, I’m ready for round two…but Jake’s not in bed.

I pad down the hallway to find him looking over some papers at the kitchen table. He’s thrown a pair of pants on, hiding his glorious cock from me.

Taking a seat across from him, I tease, “You do know covering yourself up is about the cruelest thing you could do to me right now, right?” He flashes me a warm smile, but doesn’t say anything else before dropping his eyes back to the pages in front of him. So, I try a different tactic as I move to snake my arms across his chest and press mine against his bare back. “It hardly seems fair that you get to catch up on work while I get farther behind. Come to bed. I’m not done with you.”

He covers my clasped hands with one of his own, keeping me in place. The simple gesture alleviates the anxiety caused by his mood shift.

“I’m just giving Martin’s portfolio a second pass. There’s a lot of numbers to calculate. I caught a second wind and figured since I probably won’t sleep anytime soon, I might as well get something done.”

Not wanting to lose him to work, I unclasp my hands and trail them down over his torso, whispering in his ear. “Come. Back. To. Bed. We have enough shit to deal with in the morning. This can wait too.”

“Hey, come look at this,” he says, stilling my hands.

Still standing behind him, I plant my hands on the table on either side of his forearms and lean down to read what he’s pointing at. It’s an address I’m all too familiar with.

“That’s Carl and Betty’s place.”

“On the same street as your shop, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you get these?”

“These are the closing documents from the sale of their business.”

“I can see that. Why do you have them?”

He falters, trying to make sense of it all as he answers. “They’re part of the folder of papers I’ve been going over for Martin. Somehow, I missed this before.”

“The governor is the one who bought their place? In a neighborhood going to shit? Why? What else is in there?” I ask, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to him — the euphoria of being inside him half an hour ago lost to the puzzle before me.

He spreads the papers out on the table between us so I can see everything.

He picks up what looks like a zoning report while I scan the documents in front of me.

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