Where Nerves End

was that risk of waking Michael up. And hed find me, and hed insist on treating me, and I wouldnt be able to turn him down because I knew it would help.
I kneaded my neck and shoulder until my hand ached, but it didnt do a damned bit of good. Branches of bright, sharp-edged red fanned out from the first spasm, coiling around my spine, crawling up my neck, creeping toward my other shoulder. Nausea made my mouth water, and I clenched my jaw.
I didnt move. I didnt go get a shower. No pills, no seeking that irrational momentary release from digging my shoulder into a sharp corner.
Id regret it in a few hours, but I just couldnt face Michael.
Not tonight.
But if willing away the pain had ever worked, I never would have met Michael in the first place, which may or may not have been a good thing. These days, I didnt know. Hed alleviated both my physical and financial pain, but had me lying awake at night for very different reasons, and those reasons were out of his hands and mine. I wanted this. He wanted this. If he didnt, it wouldnt be so goddamned hard for us to stay away from each other, and not just because we kept passing in the halls.
And now here I was. There he was, at the other end of the house, probably sound asleep behind his closed door across the hall from his son.
“If it’s that bad again,” hed said, “don’t hesitate to wake me up.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I doubt I’d ever actually pester you in the middle of the night unless the house was on fire.”
“Well, the offer’s open. Better that than spending the night bruising the hell out of yourself with a sharp corner.”
The offer was there.
And I was in pain.
But I didnt wake him up.
I was still awake when Michael left for work around seven thirty. Now that he was gone, it was safe to put a little more effort into getting rid of this pain than just wishing it would vacate my muscles.
Drugs. Hot shower. Hot pack. Sitting up. Lying down. More drugs. Another shower. Reheated hot pack. The corner didnt even help; it just made the pain worse without that blissful moment of short-lived relief.
And the stress didnt help at all. Michael would come home, and hed know. I wouldnt be able to move enough to go to the club. I couldnt do my job. I couldnt live with my roommate. I couldnt fucking breathe because of the pain, and the stress, and the… Jesus, every goddamned thing in my life.
“Fuck,” I muttered, pressing the lukewarm hot pack against my shoulder. This wasnt good. And if Michael came home, there was no hiding this. No getting it past him. If he caught on, hed ask why I was tense, and Id either have to slip a bullshit excuse by him or fess up, and that wasnt happening. I just needed to lay low between the time he came home and the time I had to leave for the club, which was doable. I hoped.
I had just finished with my hundredth hot pack since this morning and was nearing the end of the effective zone for my third painkiller when he came home from work. Hed have read me like a book if he saw me, so I made a quick escape to my bedroom before he came in from his car.
By nine thirty, I was getting stir crazy. That, and I needed to get to the club before my employees destroyed the place.
The house had been dead silent for a good hour now. Dylan had gone to bed a little whileago, and Michael hadnt made a sound. I waited as long as I could, making sure they were both settled in for the night or at least out of sight long enough for me to make a quick escape to get to work, and then I left my bedroom.
Stepping carefully and quietly, I went downstairs. A lamp still glowed in the living room, but otherwise, this part of the house was dark. I flicked on the kitchen light, and damn near jumped out of my skin, which sent pain shooting up my neck and down my arm.
“Michael.” I exhaled. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
Arms folded across his chest, he eyed me from across the kitchen. “Youre in pain, arent you?”
I gritted my teeth. “Im fine.”
“Youve been dead quiet all evening.” He nodded toward the counter. “And you had a three hot packs out with the fourth and fifth missing.”
I should have known I couldnt hide anything from him.
Avoiding his eyes, I said, “My shoulders sore. Dont worry about it.”
“Is that—” He paused. “Holy fuck, Jason. Youre a wreck, arent you?”
I resisted the urge to rub my neck. “Im fine .”
“Bullshit you are. I can see it from here.” He lowered his chin, eyeing me in that way