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you and me?"
Mitch cleared his throat and glanced up to see Clay
standing there in the doorway, eyes dark and worried. "No,"
he said faintly. "Not yet."
"But you will?" Nick pressed.
Mitch nodded, still looking at Clay. "I will. What about
you?"
He could practically hear Nick's indecision, but after a few
seconds, Nick said, "It won't matter. It won't change
anything. What Matthew and I have ... it's not like that. But
yes, okay? I'll tell him." He sighed. "Listen, Mitch ... take care
of yourself, okay? And him."
Getting up, Mitch walked over to where Clay was leaning
against the door frame. "Yeah. You don't have to worry about
that." Carefully, he said, "I love him."
"I know you do," Nick said.
"Thanks, Nick. For all your help, and for ... for everything."
"You're welcome," Nick said, and then, "Goodbye, Mitch."
It was harder to hear than Mitch would have thought, but
somehow he managed to say goodbye, too, and hung up the
phone.
Clay was watching him. "Who was that?"
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"Nick," Mitch said. "The guy from work. The psychic." He
hesitated, trying to decide if this was the wrong time to tell
Clay more or if it was just that he was afraid to, but Clay beat
him to it.
"Something happened," he said. "Between the two of you."
Mitch nodded. "I kissed him."
Instead of freaking out or pulling away both of which he
would have been entitled to do Clay said, "Tell me why."
"Sit down first," Mitch said, tugging at Clay's hand gently,
because Clay was trembling in a way he was pretty sure had
nothing to do with emotion.
Clay made a face. "Not on the couch," he said.
"The cushion's gone anyway," Mitch said. "Kitchen?"
They went into the kitchen and sat, Mitch sliding his chair
close to Clay's so that their knees were touching. Clay looked
at him expectantly.
"He was ... the whole psychic thing was intense," Mitch
said, trying to put it into words. "It was like it hurt him. I
think it did hurt him. He collapsed onto the ground it was at
the park, where we found the girl's body and I was holding
him, trying to, I don't know, comfort him."
"Of course you were," Clay said gently, and Mitch looked at
him. Of all the reactions he'd been expecting, this wasn't one
of them. "What, did you think I was going to freak out?"
"Um..." Mitch didn't know how to respond to that. "Yeah.
Kind of."
Clay held his gaze. "You just kissed him? I mean, nothing
else?"
"Nothing else," Mitch said. "I swear."
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"Okay." Clay reached out and took Mitch's face in his
hands. "I love that you want to comfort people. I've always
loved that about you. It'd be pretty hypocritical of me to be
mad at you about it now." Something flashed behind his eyes.
"But it never goes any further than that. Ever. Do I make
myself clear?"
Mitch leaned in and kissed him quickly. "Yes. Totally clear.
It's never going to happen again. I promise."
The doorbell rang and Clay flinched.
"It's just the pizza guy," Mitch reassured him, patting his
knee. "I got your favorite."
"Chicken and mushroom from Emilio's?" Clay asked.
"Of course. I'll go get it." The dog followed Mitch to the
door she hadn't even barked when the bell rang, Mitch
realized and stood beside him while he paid, not seeming
even slightly bothered by the presence of the delivery guy. By
the time Mitch went back to the kitchen, Clay had put out two
plates and a handful of napkins.
Clay looked at the pizza doubtfully when Mitch opened the
box. "I don't know if I can eat."
"Sure you can," Mitch said, leaning over to put a slice of
pizza onto Clay's plate. "You need to. You've got to keep up
your strength."
"I'll have to go to court, won't I?" Clay said.
Mitch nodded as Clay plucked a slice of mushroom off his
slice of pizza and ate it. "Maybe. It depends. But probably not
any time soon. These things can take a long time."
"I know. Do you think he'll get life? I mean, he'll at least
go to prison for a long time, right? There's no way he'll get
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off?" Clay sounded worried but kept his gaze unwaveringly on
his food.
They'd already talked about this. "Clay. Sweetheart." Mitch
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