Blood Noir - Laurell K. Hamilton [43]
I loved Jason. In that friend way, yes, but he lived on that emotional edge for me. That edge that felt familiar. The edge that Nathaniel had lived on for a while. That edge that Asher had lived on. I had other men who were more frequently in my bed, but none of them were as close to that emotional moment. Love, whether it’s friendship or more, is like a cup. It fills up drop by drop, until one last drop and the cup is full. The liquid hangs there almost above the rim, hangs there on the surface tension alone, and you can feel that one more drop and it will spill over. Once, I hadn’t been aware of the process, but I’d had it happen too many times now. I couldn’t afford another spill. I couldn’t afford another man in my life, not like that.
Could I just not tell the difference? Was that it? Was I so confused about sex and love that without Nathaniel or someone else I couldn’t tell the difference between wanting a man for lust, and wanting him for love? Maybe, maybe. God help me, I didn’t know.
“I know what I’m getting,” Jason said. He offered me the menu. I took it, trying not to look at him. Trying not to let him read whatever was in my eyes.
He knew what he wanted. I wish to hell I did.
19
JASON CALLED THE food orders down: grilled chicken Caesar for him and grilled chicken sandwich for me. He had to argue with them to make sure they didn’t put some weird cheese or sauce on my sandwich. Who the hell puts blue cheese on chicken? He sat down on the bed, finally undoing the cuff links and taking off his shirt. He followed with his socks and walked around barefoot for a few moments before he bounced down on the bed and said, “Now, talk to me.”
I got up, walked to the closet, and put my jacket on a hanger, while I tried to figure out how to start. “I’ve never had sex with you when we were alone, except when I had to feed the ardeur.”
“Okay, I guess that’s true.”
I turned and looked at him. He was lounging on the bed, propped up on one elbow. I admitted to myself he looked pretty cute lying there. I didn’t want to admit it.
Get a grip, Anita, I thought. I made myself walk to the bed and sit on the corner so I could undo the stockings. I had to lift the skirt to get to them, and that, too, felt too intimate. My fingers felt clumsy as I tried to undo the garters.
“Leave the hose,” he said.
I looked at him, and I don’t know what look was on my face, but whatever it was it made him slip off the bed and come to me on his knees. “Anita, what’s wrong? God, you look like I’m going to attack you or something. You can’t be afraid of me. It’s Jason, just Jason.”
I stopped fiddling with the garters, and tried for truth. It had always been truth between Jason and me. It was one of the reasons we were friends.
“I’m afraid of how I feel about you.”
He gave me a look I couldn’t read, and leaned back on his knees again, with them too wide, so his stomach muscles bunched again. I realized it was a position he used a lot on stage. It was either comfortable, or habit.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Anita. Normally, I’d be the first one not to push, but I’m a little stressed tonight. Just talk to me.”
“I’m embarrassed that I want you, just want you. Not because of the ardeur, or any metaphysical thing, but just because you are Jason. I like you.”
“I like you, too,” he said. He looked at me, sort of perplexed. “But you feel bad that you want me, not because of the ardeur, but just because.”
I nodded.
He smiled and took my hand, gently, in his. “That you could still feel this nervous around me is sweet, Anita. Really, it is.” He took my hands in both of his. “But I need you to work through whatever issue this is. We’ll eat, but then I need closeness. I need you to help me drown out this day. Do you understand?”
I did, actually. “Sex is almost the only time that I relax completely. Nathaniel jokes that it’s my only hobby.”
Jason grinned, and raised my hands up to kiss them. “It’s one of my favorite things to do, too.”
I started to blush