Where Nerves End

completely, he rested his forearm on the railing beside him. His fingers drummed rapidly, and though he leaned in such a way he should have looked casual and relaxed, he was tense. Twitchy. I was surprised he wasnt tapping a foot, and it was weird to see him like this. I wasnt used to Michael Whitman being this flustered. Certainly not at a loss for words.
“Its not that I dont want to, Jason,” he said finally. “Believe me, I do.”
“Is that why you came here, then?” I asked. “To tell me why we cant do anything about this?” When you’re dressed for the prowl, when you’re doing this here instead of at home, when you can’t possibly fathom how much this is killing me…
“I…” He looked out at the street below us.
I didnt know exactly why, but I stepped a little closer, and we both tensed as the space between us shrank. “Michael?”
He slowly released a breath. “I needed to talk to you,” he said, speaking quickly now, “and Ill be the first to tell you I suck at this sort of thing, so when I realized I needed to do it, I figured I should come down here and get it over with, but I hadnt really thought much further ahead than just pulling you aside to talk, so—” Abruptly, he cut himself off and shook his head. “Fuck, I dont know. Honestly?” He looked me in the eye again. “I dont know why Im here.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He swallowed. “No. Im really not sure about anything right now.”
“Except that youre here.”
“Except that you’re here.”
Neither of us looked away. My heart thundered. Every muscle turned into a coiled spring just waiting for one of us to trip my flight instinct. Or his.
Ill never know where I found the nerve to make the move, but I reached for his hand on the railing. With only a few inches separating my palm from his skin, where the heat from his just started to mingle with the warmth from mine, I paused. My fingers twitched indecisively in midair, and my heart beat even faster.
Michaels gaze darted toward that void that still existed between our hands. Then he met my eyes, and hed never been so impossible to read. In the space of one heartbeat, I was sure his eyes told me to back off. The next, he was daring me to keep going. The one after, begging me to pull back. Begging me not to pull back. And all the while, my unmoving hand hovered, waiting for something decisive to tell me whether to pull it back or put it down.
Then, eyes still locked on his, I lowered my hand, but in the same instant, he pulled his out from under, and my palm met nothing but coarse, vaguely warm concrete.
Disappointment didnt even have a chance to register, because a split second later, his concrete-cooled palm met the side of my neck and his lips met mine.
Neither of us moved. I couldnt, not until Id found the equilibrium that went out from under me the instant our mouths made contact. Was this…had he really…did this really fucking happen?
God, yes, it did. And it wasnt over yet.
Michaels other arm slid around my waist. Inhaling slowly through my nose, I wrapped my arms around him as our parted lips slowly, gently eased into motion.
Every first kiss since the dawn of time had ended much too soon, but not this one. In spite of my desperate hunger for him that had been building for weeks now, I couldnt see doing this any way but slow, sensual, one long breath at a time while we inched together, letting the deepening kiss draw our bodies closer. Michaels hand rested on the small of my back, his other on the back of my neck, fingertips unsteady against me as he nervously, confidently, shyly, boldly explored my mouth.
After an eternity, he drew back, breaking the kiss, but we didnt let go of each other, and I decided I was wrong. It had ended too soon after all.
We held each others gazes, both of us breathing hard, and my heart pounding in my chest. Where we went from here wasnt as much of a foregone conclusion as Id have liked; that kiss may have taken every reserve of confidence he had tonight, and a single step of retreat could stop it all right here. As the aftermath stretched out almost as long as the kiss that had preceded it, I was sure with every passing second he was about to take that retreat. I was on the verge of beating him to it when his palm pressed into my back, and before I could make sense of anything, his lips were against mine again.
He wasnt so tentative now. Not so nervous. Quite the opposite, in fact, and I loved the way his mouth silently said,