Where Nerves End

beside the chest-high concrete railing, and when Michael looked up at the night sky, so did I.
Tucker Springs didnt have the same amount of light pollution as places like Denver, and on a clear night like this, the stars were more visible than they had any right to be over a city. Not like they would have been if we were out in the middle of uninhabited nowhere, but still impressive. Something to look at besides each other.
I wondered if Michael had ever gotten away from LA or Tucker Springs enough to see what the sky had to offer in places like Moab and some of the more remote parts of the Rockies. I could all too easily imagine myself in a place like that with Michael. Lying on top of a sleeping bag on the hard ground, looking up at the sky with my fingers laced behind my head, shooting the breeze about how big the universe is, and how big do you think it really is, and where do you think we really come from, having the conversations that were inevitable under a sky like that and probably sounded like marijuana talking if anyone ever happened by. But they didnt happen by. Not out in the middle of Moab or the Rockies. If ever I found myself out there with Michael, we would be well and truly alone.
And I doubted Id even notice the sky.
Unless of course we somehow made it that far and wound up with this awkward tension between us. Which meant somehow getting out of this particular moment, which meant we needed to kill this tension now .
“So.” I resisted the urge to fidget. “You wanted to talk about something?”
His fingers started drumming on the railing, marking a rapid, nervous rhythm on the weathered concrete. “About the other night.”
“Okay…” I gulped. Which other night? I wanted to ask. When you brought home another man? Or when I came home with “I fucked another man” written all over me and you just about sprinted out of the room?
Fidgeting uncomfortably, I said, “Which part?”
Then, as abruptly as theyd started, his fingers stopped. He shifted his gaze away from me again. “I…dont even know.”
“Neither do I.”
Give me something here, Michael. A sign. A hint. Something.
Exhaling, he ran a hand through his hair, but kept his gaze fixed on the mountains instead of me.
“I thought you said you were straight.” Oh. Great. Perfect start to keeping the conversation from getting more awkward.
But he whispered, “So did I.” He took a deep breath, lowering his gaze the parking lot beside the club. “Ive been telling myself that for a long, long time, anyway.”
If hed had a finger on my pulse just then, he wouldnt have been able to keep count of the beats. As he fidgeted and avoided my eyes, I wondered if his heartbeat might have rivaled mine.
He closed his eyes and pushed out a breath. I thought he might have even cursed softly, but I couldnt be sure. And finally, he looked at me and spoke.
“To be blunt,” he said, “Im attracted you.” He looked away again, adding a murmured, “ Very attracted.”
Oh dear God. Please don’t let me be dreaming right now.
    My mouth had gone dry, but somehow I whispered, “Likewise.”
That didnt ease any of the tension in his posture. Or mine. Christ, where was this going?
Come on, Michael, give me something…
“So, if we both know were attracted to each other,” I said, pausing to clear my throat, “then why dont—”
“Its not that simple,” he said.
“Isnt it?”
Michael moistened his lips and avoided my eyes. “I have to be careful of my kid,” he said. “And theres the professional ethics. Yeah, were roommates. Were…we obviously…” He exhaled sharply. “But youre still my patient too.”
“You could always just treat me at home,” I said. “I can still pay you.”
He kept his gaze down.
“You said yourself youve treated your ex-wife.” I inclined my head. “And I dont imagine she was relegated to patient status after that.”
Pursing his lips, he broke eye contact, staring at the concrete between us. “No, I didnt. But this is… Its complicated. Youre technically my patient. Plus we live together, so if things went south…”
“Im not after a commitment ceremony and a joint mortgage, if thats what youre worried about,” I said. “Ive been there, done that.”
He made eye contact again. “Then what do you want?” It wasnt a demand, not when his eyes screamed, “ Help me out, because I have no idea what’s happening here.”
“Im not even sure. I just want…you.”
Turning his body so he faced me