days—and they used to help. Now, everything was going down like lead.
“I understand why you’re angry,” Nik told him. “And I’m taking full responsibility for being an epic asshole that night. I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I did. Because I wanted it, and leaving you like that was…”
“It was cruel,” Adam said. He let out a breath and decided to confess one of the ugly thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone. “Being rejected sucks, but being a gay trans man—there’s another level. Every time someone wants me, then pulls away without telling me—I can’t help but wonder if it’s me, or…”
“Shit,” Nik breathed out. “No. No, that’s not…” He dragged both hands down his face before rubbing knuckles into his eyelids. “This is what I’m talking about.”
Adam fought the urge to reach for his wrists, to pull his hands away before he hurt himself. “Nik.”
Nik let his palms fall back to the table, and his lids were red-rimmed and a little puffy. “It wasn’t that. Please believe me.”
Adam allowed himself to laugh, because he knew. He knew that, and the rational side of his brain saw the humor in it. But his logic and his fear were not friends. “I know that. I knew it then, but it triggered this ugly little voice inside me, and it was hard to ignore when I was just—alone. Sitting there, wondering what I did wrong.”
“It’s me,” Nik said. “It’s me. I’m the one who…”
“Whoooo’s hungry?” The chipper voice cut through his words like a flaming sword.
Adam growled before he could stop himself, and he felt like an epic asshole because the guy was just doing his job, but he was getting emotional blue balls, and he was seconds away from exploding. “Thank you,” he ground out when the server pushed plates in front of them both. “We’re kind of having a thing right now, and it’s totally not your fault or anything, but can we have like fifteen minutes to talk this out?”
The guy took a step back and held up his hands in surrender. “If you need me, just wave.”
Adam nodded and vowed to leave a fat tip. “Sorry,” he told Nik when they were alone again.
Nik shook his head, his lips not quite turned up in a smile, but almost. His hands deftly inspected his plate, then put together his burger with just cheese and bun, nothing else. It was so painfully, beautifully him—so simple and so perfect, and Adam hated that he knew Nik would never be his in the way he wanted.
He pushed his plate to the side and laid his arm on the table, resting his chin on it. “There’s no way forward for us, is there?”
Nik chewed, his nose wrinkled, and he sighed as he swallowed down his first bite. “I resigned myself to dying alone a long time ago. And maybe that was stupid, and I change my mind every now and again, but I also know I’m not better than I was when my relationships all burned to the ground. If anything, I’m worse.”
“Is it because you don’t want to try, or because you’re content with this bullshit self-fulfilling prophesy you created for yourself?”
Nik froze, then he slowly lifted his head. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right.” Adam sat back and crossed his arms. “I want to—and I’m willing to accept what you need, but you can’t tell me I’m important to you if you won’t even try.”
“If we do this, and things fall apart, you and I both know there’s no coming back from it, Adam,” Nik said, and fuck, but the truth hurt. “I don’t make friends easily. I am not an easy man to love—in any context. Not as a friend, not as a son, not as a lover. I try not to make it a habit of putting those relationships at risk.”
Adam closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, letting understanding and resignation course through him like the tide. “Okay.”
“Adam, please,” Nik begged, and Adam reached across the table, seizing his hand.
“No, I mean okay.”
Nik’s face fell into uncertainty. “I just…”
“No,” Adam said again and squeezed Nik’s fingers before pulling back, climbing off his bench, and sliding next to Nik. Nik let out a startled noise, but he shifted over to make room. “I’m saying I get it.”
Nik dragged his tongue over his lower lip. “I can’t lose you, Adam. I know we just met, but I have always trusted my gut, and my gut is telling me that I need to