Page 42 of Mr Nice Guy

“I want to hang out sometimes without having sex.”

He quirks a brow, but nods. “I think I can manage that. But you’ll have to keep your hands to yourself as well.”

I offer a wry smile and continue, “The second thing is I don’t want toonlyhave sex when you’re in desperate need of stress relief. I’m happy to help you with that, but I don’t want to just be your stress ball. And it’d be nice to be with you on a day when you’re actually relaxed and happy.”

He eyes me curiously. “So you want us to spend time togetherwithouthaving sex, but you also want us to have sex more often?”

I think back over my conditions and feel myself blushing. Shit, it sounds like I’m trying to manipulate him into a relationship. “Yeah, basically. But only when it’s convenient obviously.”

He lets out a soft laugh. “I’m sure we can make it happen. Especially if more sex is on the table.” His brows creep up in question. “What was the third thing?”

I fix him with an intent look, trying to communicate my sincerity as best as I can in regards to this last condition. “This is temporary. I’m not going to pressure you, but I need you to figure out all your thoughts and feelings about all that,” I say, gesturing toward the door. “Work out why you’re so overwhelmed and anxious about something you clearly enjoyed, and whether or not it’s something you can get past. I think we could be really good together, Tanner, but there are things I need from a partner and you need to figure out whether you’re able to give them to me.”

He nods. “I get it. And…I’m sorry.”

I step forward and cup his cheek. “How many times have I told you not to be sorry?”

He gives a soft smile and I awkwardly drop my hand, remembering I’m supposed to be putting distance between us. This is going to be fucking hard; the dam has burst now, and I’ve got all these intimate and affectionate instincts I have to fight to keep to myself.

“Alright, now I really should be going,” I say with a wry grin. “The field trip tomorrow’s going to be a nightmare.”

I quickly gather my t-shirt and shoes from where I discarded them earlier and put them on. Then I check that I’ve got my phone and wallet, and make my way toward the door.

“Can you come over this weekend?” Tanner asks, just as I’m pulling the door open.

I glance back, offering a rueful smile. “I’ll be on Long Island all weekend for my sister’s wedding. Free all next week though.”

“Allnext week?” he asks, one eyebrow arched suggestively. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“As long as you remember rule number one.”

He smiles and taps his his temple. “It’s right up here. Along with rule number two.”

I let out a loud chuckle and swing the door open. “I’ll see you next week.”

CHAPTER16

TANNER

“Was there ever a point where you thought you were interested in girls?”

Across the table from me, Jazz’s face screws up. “Dad, we did all this when I was twelve. Remember? I told you I was gay, you were cool with it. End of discussion.”

I let out a sigh and run my hands over my face. “Sorry, I should have clarified. I wasn’t asking specifically about you. I just…thought you might be able to give some perspective on a particular issue. It’s…queer-related.”

He arches a skeptical brow. “Then why the fuck were you asking me about girls?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Sorry, it was a bit of a silly question.” I shouldn’t have even brought this up; I know Jazz has experienced confusion about his sexuality in the past, but it was the confusion of a child. I doubt he could offer much perspective on my current issue. And do I really want to give him the details of my unorthodox sex life? It’s not exactly the ideal topic of conversation for Saturday lunch.

But it’s been on my mind pretty much every second since Deacon walked out of my penthouse in the wee hours of yesterday morning, and I’ve gotten to the point where I feel like if I don’t talk to someone, I’ll explode. I don’t blame Deacon at all for laying down his ground rules; if he’s willing to go against all his instincts to give me casual, low-intimacy fucking while I figure my shit out, then I need to fucking figure all my shit out. I don’t want him to have to hold anything back when he’s with me…I just need time to understand what I’m feeling.

Jazz rolls his eyes and gives a casual shrug of one shoulder. “What’s the issue?”

I shake my head. “It’s not important. A friend of mine has been going through an…interesting situation recently. I thought maybe you could give some perspective but I’m now thinking it’s probably a bit inappropriate to involve you. I should respect his privacy.”

Jazz nods. “Fair enough. But you don’t have to tell me who it is. You can just give me the broad strokes.”

“Okay…” With the shield of my “friend” to hide behind, I’m able to relax a little, although I’m still very aware that we’re in a crowded bar with several of Jazz’s employees liable to move within earshot at any moment. Not much that can be done about that, I guess.

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