Page 28 of Blown

The rest of the morning was spent cleaning up glass, basic cane pulling, and getting everything back on track. Perhaps wisely, Jake took a step back from the class, watching instead of getting involved. Once the class ended, he quietly jumped in to help Rafe tidy everything up.

The sting of being outshone with his own students stuck with Rafe, though. It was too much like Corning, too much like his entire career of almost being the best but falling just short. The more sensible part of him shouted at him to be careful and not let his burning attraction to Jake overrule common sense. Jake was a liar who had admitted outright that he was using him to get what he wanted.

There was so much more to their relationship than that, and Rafe knew it. Not to mention the fact that he was willing to go along with Jake’s scheme to get what he wanted and needed for his own reasons. It all added an extra level of angst to the situation.

“I’m going up to the house for lunch,” he told Jake once the class was over, the students were gone, and things were set to right in the hot shop. “You can stay here and work if you want, but make sure the furnace and everything else is safe before you leave.”

He turned to go, breathing in the relatively cool air outside as soon as he was out of the shop. He needed to get away from Jakefor just a little while to settle his thoughts. He needed to breathe on his own and maybe even take a nap so that he could tackle the seething resentment that he wanted to let go of but couldn’t.

“Rafe! Rafe!”

Jake lunged out of the hot shop a few steps behind Rafe, leaving the door wide open.

Rafe turned and planted his hands on his waist, staring at Jake with narrowed eyes. “What?” he asked flatly. “Are you going to try to convince me you should be the one teaching glassblowing classes now? Do you want to show me how you can pull cane while doing a cartwheel and reciting the complete works of Shakespeare? Did you find a shiny rock you want to show me?”

Jake’s shoulders dropped, but he had the good sense to look sorry. “Yeah, I deserved that,” he said. “I screwed up, I know.”

Rafe blinked and crossed his arms. He didn’t want to let his hurt feelings fester, but they were just so strong. “Do you? Do you know what you just did in there?”

“I wanted the kids to like me,” Jake said, like he was doing something revolutionary by listing his faults. “It’s a compulsion.”

“It was Corning all over again,” Rafe said, taking a step closer to him.

“It’s really hard to stop myself,” Jake fired back at him, standing straighter and meeting Rafe’s confrontational energy. “It’s chemical, like an addiction. I can’t control it.”

Rafe shook his head. “No. You don’t get to use mental illness as a reason to behave like an arse.”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s an explanation,” Jake argued.

“Are you seeing someone about it?” Rafe asked. “Are you on medication? Are you in any way trying to grapple with these compulsions?”

Jake blew out a breath through his nose and stared at Rafe like he was a hard nut to crack. “I can’t do any of that until I have an NHS number, and I can’t get an NHS number until I’m a legal resident of the UK. And that’s not going to happen until I’m officially your fiancé or husband.”

Rafe pressed his lips shut, writhing internally as he followed the train of Jake’s logic. It made sense, though he hadn’t personally investigated what resources might be available to Jake before his immigration status was settled. Still, it was no excuse for him being a jerk. Again.

“I have a set curriculum for my classes,” he said, fighting not to fly off the handle. “The kids need to learn the basics of pulling cane before they elaborate on it, just like they need to learn the correct way to handle a blowpipe before they can blow anything. And do not make a joke about that now,” he added when Jake’s mouth twitched and his eyes sparkled.

He hated the way Jake’s mirth immediately cooled his anger and made him want to laugh. The effect Jake had on him wasn’t fair.

“But it’s low-hanging fruit, man,” Jake said, unable to keep his smile inside. “We all had to learn to blow before we?—”

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,” Rafe said, torn between wanting to let it all go and being genuinely offended that Jake was so far up his own arse that he couldn’t see how wrong he’d been. “If you won’t take something as simple as my class syllabus, which I put a lot of thought into, seriously, then how can I expect you to take the entire process of applying for a visa seriously?”

To his credit, Jake’s face fell. “I am taking it seriously.”

“Are you?” Rafe shook his head. He’d wanted this to work. He couldn’t fight his natural feelings for Jake, as much of an arse as he could be. Jake was a ray of sunshine and a contrast to the assumptions he’d always made about how one should behave inorder to succeed in life. He was the most talented glass artist that he knew personally, and working together for the last few weeks had elevated his own craft more than weeks in Corning had.

But it was too much of a headache. Jake couldn’t be trusted, and if he couldn’t trust his partner, he would never feel stable enough to truly develop, as a person or as an artist.

“Jake,” he began, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry,” Jake interjected before he could say anything more. “I know I have problems. The fact that I haven’t hidden any of them from you is my way of trying to show you that I’m working on them.”

Rafe blew out a breath, his shoulders sagging.

“Please, Rafe,” Jake went on, stepping close enough to rest his hand on the side of Rafe’s neck. “I know it might not look like it, but I’m trying really hard here. I swear to you, I’m not trying to be manipulative and I know I’m a pain. I feel safer with you than I’ve felt with anyone in years. And I’m even starting to like your family.”

Rafe’s mouth twitched into a smile despite his lingering irritation.

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