The next day starts off like the one before. After opening the store, I follow Jace into the supply room. He breathes on my neck as he hastily unbuckles my belt. He places my hand on his groin, so I can feel him straining against his tight pants. Then, with a sharp tug, he pulls my belt free, and it hits the tiles. "What made you run yesterday?"

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. You saw something that scared you. What was it?" His thumb dips behind the waistband of my pants, and his cold nail presses against my skin.

I want to tell him the truth, but it's against our rules to talk about the private details of our life. It's how we keep ourselves from falling in love. His dark brown eyes study me as his jaw clenches and his hands freeze. Apparently, my answer is more important than sex, so I tell him, "It's complicated."

He exhales out his nose. "What if we dropped our rules and had a normal relationship in secret. I'm sure gay men will be allowed to love openly someday but till then...." He holds my chin and tilts it up so I look at him.

There's only one person who never leaves my mind no matter how much I try to forget them—well, two, if you include Blake, but he's off limits. Aside from them, I would never be able to love anyone else. I look at my shoes. Once it gets to this point, my fun relationships always end. I can never give the other person what they want. It hurts me almost as much as it hurts them. We wait in silence. Our breaths net as his earnest eyes plead with me to say something. Anything.

There's a knock on the door, a hesitant clear of a throat. "A-hem! A-hem!" Blake says, drawing my attention.

Jace's brows knit in confusion, and I motion for him to step away. A dark expression crosses his features as he moves to one side. The door opens, and Xavier walks in. He scowls as he registers my untucked shirt, open pants and dishevelled appearance.

Blake stands behind Xavier, a guilty expression on his face as he says, "He walked in while some customers distracted me. Sorry."

Sweat soaks my armpits as I try to eliminate the guilt that stings my chest. Xavier stares at Jace. "Are you here to deliver packages or fuck my brother?"

"Who the hell are you?" Jace asks.

Xavier laughs dryly and rakes his hand through his hair. "What is this? Some fucking TV Drama?" Xavier shoves his hands into his pockets and watches us coolly. He has put on quite a bit of muscle since I saw him last and is around two inches taller than me. His time in the army served him well. He doesn't look like the skinny kid I remembered, but neither am I. I swallow as the hair rises along my skin. While the silence stretches, I feel like a deer caught in Xavier's headlights.

Xavier says, "I'm also a son of Earl Dwyer, and while this country's nobles may not be as powerful as they once were, they still have quite the say in economic matters, so unless you want to lose your job, why don't you get lost?"

Jace looks to me for affirmation.

I nod.

Jace balls his hands into fists, apologizes to Xavier and exits the room, leaving me alone with my brother. Xavier sits on one of the unopened boxes, not caring how it sinks beneath him. "So, it's been a while, huh?"

"Four years."

Blake looks at me, his worried expression asking me if I'm alright. I nod at him, indicating he should go watch the store. Blake and Xavier exchange glares, and then Blake gives a showman's bow and leaves, closing the door behind him. On the other side, he says, "Yell if you need me."

I listen to Blake's fading steps as he moves away.

Alone, Xavier and I fall quiet. My head feels like it is about to split from the pressure of seeing him again. 'I'm sorry' plays over and over in my head like a stuck record.

"How was camp?" I ask, trying to rub out the anxious knots in my chest.

"It was pretty horrid," Xavier says, taking a box of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lights one and takes a long draw. His golden lashes flutter as he inhales his poison. The stink hits me hard, and I try not to cough as I cover my mouth and nose and hold my breath. I watch the wrapping paper shrivel and melt, breaking off into bits of ash as the cigarette shrinks smaller and smaller before Xavier puts it out on the tile.

I expect Xavier to pick up my belt and hit me, but he doesn't. He says, "At first, I was a little demon. I fought back and refused to let them fix me, but then one of the counsellors started to get handsy with me and some of the other guys. This wrinkled old piece of shit would touch our genitals, and since he knew no one would believe us, he got away with it.

"So, my new friends and I did what was necessary to get out there within two months since we couldn't just poison the fucker. We prayed and told our stories of growth and change at campfire circles. We knelt before a statue of Jesus nailed to the cross and repented for our actions. We endured their whippings and gentle stoning even though they were just as corrupted as us, but since we're branded as evil, and people think they're good, we had no choice but to obey them.

"What I don't understand is... if God is so awesome and so amazing, why did he have to send his son to die for our sins? People continued to sin after Jesus's death anyway, so what was the point of that? Are we going to have a Jesus for every century of sinning? Imagine our country's leaders sending out a search party for some poor soul born of a virgin every hundred years." Xavier lights another cigarette. His lips are dark, tinted with ash. "And at the end of every century, this kid gets sacrificed to purify the world. If some kid's death erases sin, then it shouldn't matter if we have gay sex or not, should it? We'll just kill him and let bygones be bygones."

I kneel before Xavier, take the cigarette from his lips, and snuff it on the tile. "You have had enough."

Though he is only a year older than mine, the lines on his face age him by nearly a decade. He watches me with an expression I can't interpret.

"Were you really going to fuck that kid?" he asks, his arrogance leaving his body as his eyes grow sad.

"Sorry. It just happens sometimes."

"It just happens," Xavier whispers, shaking his head.

"I didn't think you would want to see me again."

Xavier inhales, and his nostrils flare. His anger, collecting around his body in a thick cloud, reaches out a smoky hand that touches my breasts, leaving my skin moist and hot.

"I'm sorry," I repeat, placing a hand on his thigh to calm him down.

He looks beyond me at some image only he can see, smiles and says, "We were supposed to go to hell together, or did you forget?"

Xavier touches my neck, then drawing his thumb down my skin, presses my collarbone. "You must have been spending a lot of time outdoors. You have so many bug bites. Don't you have insect repellant?" He wrinkles his lips.

"Sorry."

"Say 'sorry' one more, and I'll hit you."

My mouth clamps shut.

Xavier drags his finger along my jaw, "I want to hurt you so badly it's taking every bit of restraint I have to stay calm." He presses his warm heavy forehead against mine; his tainted breath hits me square in the nose before he stands and leaves the room.

As I watch the door close, I want to pack up everything I own, go somewhere far away and hide. Xavier is here to get revenge. Shit. I should have told the truth back then... but I didn't want my mother to look at me the way she stared at him. I didn't want to disappoint her.

I wait a few minutes, giving Xavier time to leave the store before sticking my head outside. I find Blake trying to convince three girls to start the Fantastic Four Series. "So, picture four regular people who get blessed with powers from some cosmic energy source. And there is even some romantic intrigue for those who like romance. I would give it three out of five stars; it's something you can read when you're bored and looking to pass the time, waiting for a client, bus or train."

"So, it's like the X-Men?" one of the girls asks.

"No." Blake winces, rubs the bridge of his nose as he does when he's getting annoyed, and says, "The X-Men get their powers from a mutant gene. That's a whole different concept."

"So, are the Fantastic Four stronger or weaker than the X-Men?"

Blake strokes his chin. "Well, it depends. Some of them are equally matched."

One of the ladies winks at him and says, "How strong are you?" She glances at his groin, and Blake's face reddens as he clears his throat and whispers, "Pretty strong." Before the girls can harass him anymore, he says, "Why don't I check you ladies out, and you can get started on your new comics and whatever else you have to do today?"

I wait for him to take the ladies to the register and complete the sale. When he's done, he gives them gift bags with perfume samples and thin summer scarves we get from Indulge, a women's clothing store in front of us.

Once they're gone, I leave the safety of the supply room, go over to the counter and stand by his side. "Why didn't you warn me?" I ask him.

"I did."

"You should have given me time to get decent."

"In my defence, I can't keep track of all the guys you mess around with. How was I supposed to know you were shagging our delivery guy?"

"I wasn't shagging him; I had non-emotional sexual relations with him."

Blake rolls his eyes as if to say, 'Same difference' as he logs the sale into the notebook.

I continued to press my point, "You could have screamed or something."

"Why do I have to cover for your messy sex life? Just stop already; you're not going to die if you don't have sex for a few months." His lips clamp shut, and he moves away from me to check our inventory, going through our stock shelf by shelf. His narrowed gaze and quiet manner indicate that he has nothing more to say.

"Having sex helps to release the pressure that builds up inside," I say, but he is no longer listening, so I watch the sturdy frame of his back as he stoops to examine a lower shelf. "It's not like I can talk to you about it."

"You can, but you don't like my advice."

"So, you are listening to me?"

"Unfortunately, the Lord blessed me with a good pair of ears."

I rub my forehead, feeling my stress levels rise. "What advice do you have for me, oh great one?"

He finally looks at me. "Do you even know what it means to have a healthy relationship with someone? Have you ever tried being with someone who values your existence and gives you the affection you deserve? Someone who takes the time to build you up when you're feeling low?"

"Do you value my existence?"

He flips through one of the comics nonchalantly and says, "Depends on the day." But the smile that plays on his lips tells another story.

***