Page 14 of Doors & Windows
“Hey,” Liam said, the fear in his voice like a cold bucket of water. “Breathe. It’s okay.”
Jonah hadn’t realized that hewasn’tbreathing. The panic washed over him anew when he gasped for air and found it just out of his reach. A broken, strangled sound cut from his windpipe instead. Both hands reached for his throat.
“Jonah, stop. Please look at me.” Liam’s voice was distant and muffled in his periphery.
A memory surfaced of the first night they first met: when Jonah had woken in the night trapped inside his body, one foot still in the nightmare he was clawing himself from, only to find a comforting presence at his bedside like a buoy in dark waters.
The memory, and the echo of it playing out in real time, was enough to squeeze the tears from his eyes. Jonah rolled roughly away, onto his side where Liam couldn’t watch them fall. The ability to breathe made its slow and grueling return.
“Hey,” Liam said from behind him, so worried it hurt. “It’s okay. Jonah, it’sokay.”
It wasn’t okay. There was nothing okay about this.
“I’m fine,” Jonah tried, wincing at the crack in his voice that betrayed the lie.
Liam was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “You really don’t have to be.”
Jonah clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might shatter like porcelain, filling his mouth with bloody, jagged shards. Because that was too much. Liam’s words unleashed a torrent of tears that he had no hope of stopping. He pressed his face into the pillow, then, agitated, rocked upright to swing his legsover the edge of the bed. With his back exposed to Liam, Jonah rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands.
Humiliation thrummed through him, an entirely different heat than the one he had chased only minutes ago. He resorted to old bad habits, scraping his nails over his scalp hard enough to hurt. In his present state of mind, it was almost jarring to feel a full head of hair between his fingers instead of an uneven buzz cut.
He was here, in the present, in this house that was safe with a man who would never hurt him, but somehow the past was only ever inches behind him. He felt certain he could never outrun it.
“I’m sorry.” Liam’s voice was meek and uncertain from behind him, a tone that Jonah hated to hear.
“Don’t,” Jonah said tightly. “Don’t. It wasn’t… It’s notyou.” Of that much he was certain, and he wouldn’t allow Liam to go down that rabbit hole.
“Do you want to tell me what itwas?” Liam tried again after a moment. “Not that there needs to be a reason,” he added quickly. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
Jonah closed his eyes. He didn’t agree, but neither did he think he could bring himself to explain it out loud.
It was the memory of another man in his bed. It was the collective memory of hundreds of other hands on his skin. It was the reminder that Jonah carried the grime of his past across state lines, and how he would never be good enough for someone like Liam. Jonah would never benormal.
He was twenty years old. He should be able to go on a date with a boy he liked—one that heloved—and then bring him back to his room without a chorus of malevolent spectators circling his bed.
He couldn’t say that to Liam. He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t have the words, so he settled for a sharp jerk of his head.
“Okay,” Liam said. “That’s alright.” Then, “Is there something I can do?”
You could leave,a cruel voice itched at Jonah from the darkest corner of his mind.You could run away now and never look back. Find someone who isn’t broken beyond repair and save us both the pain of watching me ruin this thing between us in agonizing slow motion.
But even the thought of speaking that into existence—the thought of Liam heeding the advice and walking out of his room—opened a chasm of dread in his chest.
“I think,” Jonah began, licking the dry lips that still buzzed with the memory of contact. “I just need a minute?”
“Of course. Take all the time you need.”
He tried to take that to heart, to convince himself that Liam’s patience and understanding wasn’t a lie. That it was, in fact, the truest thing Jonah had ever known. He allowed himself a few deep breaths, then nodded, a silent confirmation that he was back inside his own body for the moment.
“Jonah?” Liam began. “Can I touch you?”
Jonah hesitated, distrustful of his own reactions. But this was Liam, and Jonah knew his touch would be safe. He knew that Liam would back down themoment Jonah asked him to. For that reason, he allowed himself to say, “Yes.”
A moment later, a palm flattened against his bare back. Jonah took a deep breath, Liam’s hand moving with his expanding ribcage, like his touch was an extension of Jonah’s own body. Liam dragged his hand slowly up his spine, then back down.
“Just this,” Liam whispered, repeating the motion in gentle, steady strokes. “Just like this, nothing more. Is that okay?”
Jonah nodded.
