If It Fornicates (Market Garden, #4)(43)

“How was your day?”

“Mostly caught up on sleep.” Mostly. And missed you. And banged my head against the f*cking wall. I’m just no f*cking good like this. “You?”

“Well, the usual thing. Met Percy for lunch. He told me all the dirt.”

“Dirt? That partner arsehole been babbling?”

“Yeah. Apparently it’s bigger news than the budget for the Christmas party.”

Nick scoffed, then softened. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I was expecting it. That does make a difference.”

Anticipating the blow, the pain. Spencer was good at rolling with the punches, and that was something Nick envied like hell.

“You really need to get out of that job,” Nick said. “Or that firm at least.”

Spencer looked right at Nick. “Just like you.”

Oh. Damn. There was that. “I know. God, I know. But . . . my mortgage and tuition fees . . .” Nick exhaled hard. “I still have to make a f*cking living, but being with you and being a prostitute, it’s . . .”

“I am okay with what you do,” Spencer said. “But we’ve discussed this. I’m okay with you being a rentboy, but I’m not okay with you being unhappy.” He placed the mug down, then half turned to Nick. “I was thinking about all of this pretty much the whole day today. Can I . . . well. I need you to hear me out. Completely. And it’s important to me that you give it an open mind, okay?”

In light of some of their recent conversations, that sounded bad. It definitely made his hackles rise. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” Spencer smiled, but didn’t reach out to touch him. “I was thinking you could move in with me. I have a lot of space; it wouldn’t get crowded. And when I’m on a case, I’m working long hours anyway, so you’ll have all the peace and quiet you could possibly need for studying. Everything else—I’d cover that. It’s no big deal for me, I’m making good money. It would give you time to finish your studies and find out what you want without having to deal with needy bastards who drain you and make you miserable.”

Nick squirmed under the weight of what Spencer was suggesting. “You want . . . you want me to quit the Garden and come live with you?”

Spencer watched him for a moment, maybe trying to gauge if Nick was surprised or hostile. “I’d like it if you did. It’s your decision, of course.”

Damn you for playing the perfect submissive card right now . . .

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. “I’d be . . . you’d . . .” Restlessness finally got the best of him, and he stood. He stepped around the coffee table and paced back and forth as Spencer watched him silently.

Nick swallowed. “I’d be completely dependent on you. For years. Until I get chartered and can practice.”

“Not necessarily,” Spencer said. “There’s nothing that says you can’t work or contribute. Just—”

“Just not whoring myself out.” The comment came out more sharply than Nick intended, and Spencer winced, dropping his gaze. Nick exhaled. “I’m sorry. I . . . I’m just not sure about this.”

“You said the job is making you miserable.”

“A lot of people’s jobs make them miserable.”

Their eyes met. Spencer didn’t have to say it.

A lot of people’s jobs don’t involve having sex with other people.

He stopped pacing, folding his arms loosely across his chest. “You’re probably right about that part. I can’t do that job anymore. Not like I used to, anyway.”

“And if you quit,” Spencer said softly, “what would you do?”

Nick shook his head. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“I’m offering you a chance to figure that out.”

“As long as I move in with you.”

Spencer jumped. “It’s not an ultimatum, Nick.”

“But what choice do I have?” Nick threw up his hands, not even sure why he was angry. “If I keep working there, it’s going to wear me down to nothing. If I quit, I can’t pay my living expenses, my tuition fees, my mortgage, and I have nowhere to go. Nowhere but . . .” He sighed, the anger deflating as quickly as it had started. “Nowhere but here.”

Spencer rose. He approached Nick slowly, and he could probably see every muscle in Nick’s torso tensing. If he didn’t see it, then he damn sure felt it when he put a gentle hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know.” Nick rubbed his forehead just to give himself a reason not to look at Spencer. “And honestly? Part of me would love to live with you. Because then I’d be close to you. All the time.”

Spencer’s fingers pressed in gently. “But . . .?”

Nick lowered his hand and made himself look up at Spencer. “But I don’t want to depend on you. I . . . there isn’t much worse for a Dom than being dependent on someone else. Completely powerless.”

“Powerless?” Spencer shook his head slowly. “No. You wouldn’t be.”

“Yes, I would.” Nick swallowed hard. “Some of the guys at the Garden would kill for a sugar daddy. Me? The idea of living in your house, spending your money, eating your food, it’s . . .” He shook his head again and lowered his gaze. “I know it sounds to you like you’re offering me a key. But to me, something like that feels more like a prison.”