With the door shut, Jacob says, “I’m not Greg.” Avery doesn’t speak. “I’m not fucking around on you, Avery.”
“What’s going on here, then?” Avery wants to know. “You’re not in church, you don’t call or stop by to tell me why not. I manage to slip away and come over here, worried to death about you, and you’re just sitting here. With him.”
Jacob rubs his forehead. He tells himself Avery is just being cautious. He’s been fucked over before and has somehow jumped to the conclusion that Jacob’s fooling around on him. But Jacob thought there was more trust between them. He thought Avery knew he was different. He bites back the dull anger that chokes his throat and says softly, “His grandfather died last night.” He suspects he wouldn’t feel so shitty if he had gotten more sleep.
“Jesus,” Avery whispers.