Where Nerves End

do? This didnt change how I felt about Michael. It didnt change the fact that I was more attracted to him than I could ever remember being attracted to any man, especially now that wed had the kind of sex Id craved forever. Or the fact that since hed moved in, my cash flow had been so, so much better. Or that since hed started treating me, my shoulder hurt less than it had in ages.
But our professional and housing arrangements complicated the sex. And the sex complicated our relationship as roommates and as doctor and patient. I needed the acupuncture. We both needed the house. Two needs trumped one want, so the only thing we could cut was the sex.
No matter how good it was, or how much I wanted him.
Absently rubbing my shoulder to keep pain from creeping in, I whispered a string of profanity.
Just once in my life, couldnt something be simple?
And for the first time, I regretted having Michael move in.

CHAPTER 15
    By all appearances, Michael adapted back to platonic roommates without missing a beat. We passed in the halls. Played video games—nonviolent when Dylan was with us, violent as all hell when Seth was there or it was just us—together. Took turns with various tasks in the house and the yard. Talked in the kitchen, the living room, out on the deck like nothing had ever happened.
    But all the while the walls closed in. Inch by inch, day by day, the house shrank. The halls narrowed. The distance between his bedroom door and mine shortened, and in spite of the decreasing space, the echo of every creak, every step, every movement was amplified. No matter where Michael was in the house, I was hyperaware of him.
    If I was this hyperaware of him, then for all I knew, it went both ways. I needed to relieve some tension, but I was equally afraid of Michael overhearing me. Two single men living together, there was bound to be some jerking off once in a while, but the thought of him hearing me made it impossible to relax. He knew I was this attracted to him, so hed catch on that he was probably the one on my mind. Assuming he hadnt already figured that out. Either way, I couldnt relax enough to further relax myself with some quiet, desperately needed masturbation.
    A nd then there was the issue of my shoulder. Naturally, Id just reached the point where I could somewhat comfortably afford my appointments. I could pay Michael without cutting into my food budget or visiting Els pawn shop. Effective treatment was available and accessible for the first time since Id fucked up my shoulder, but nothing aggravated the muscles like stress, and even the acupuncture wasnt helping now. In fact, it only made things worse. Or, rather, the acupuncture helped, but the acupuncturist countered every bit of help his treatments offered. Alone in a dark room? With my shirt off and Michaels hands on me? What wasnt to wind me up, stress me out, and turn my shoulder into a bright red beacon of holy fuck that hurts .
    So I called and canceled my next two appointments.
    “Do you want to reschedule?” Nathan had asked. “I can schedule as far out as the end of July if that helps.”
“Not right now,” Id said. “But thanks.”
Three days after my second canceled appointment would have happened, Michael came into the kitchen while I poured my morning coffee at quarter to noon.
He folded his arms loosely across his bare chest and leaned against the kitchen doorway. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I made myself focus on pouring my coffee. Something other than looking at him. Especially while he was standing there being all half-naked and goddamned attractive.
“Hows your shoulder?”
I resisted the urge to roll it to prove I could move just fine. Especially since I couldnt move just fine. Without looking at him, I said, “Its fine.”
“You know I can see it from here, right?” he said. “The muscles tense. Youre favoring it badly. Youre holding your arm against—”
“What do you want me to say?” I snapped, turning to face him.
He jumped, his arms loosening across his chest and his eyebrows climbing his forehead. “Jason, I want to help you. Youre obviously in—”
“Yes, Im in pain.” I leaned against the counter and gripped its edge. “It hurts like hell, all right?”
Michael exhaled. “Then why not let me help you with it? If its a money issue, we—”
“Its not the money,” I said. “I just…cant do it.”
He cocked his head. “But, youre in pain.”
“Thank you, I hadnt noticed,” I muttered.
His eyes narrowed slightly.