And what? Did it even matter? Because he wasn’t and he wouldn’t. But hell, how he wanted.
* * *
Somehow Jacob broke the sad symphony his eyes were busy conducting with Linc and returned his attention to Garrick, who had stopped him to make sure he was okay. Which he wasn’t. But he could pretend. Could smile and nod and act like this was just a temporary blip, nothing worth getting upset over. Could deny that there was anything between him and Linc, not that Garrick seemed inclined to believe him. But Jacob could insist, could dig in his heels, could repeat again that he wasn’t hurt or offended. Could brush off Garrick’s concern.
But later, alone at his locker, his muscles trembled with the effort of holding it all together. Faking it was damn hard work. As was ignoring Linc. God, if only one look had gutted him, how was he going to make it through a whole shift? Linc had looked like shit, which wasn’t helping anything. Deep lines around his facial features and tired eyes said he’d possibly slept even less than Jacob had. Misery had rolled off him, thick waves of regret and guilt, which served no purpose. This was Linc’s damn fault, what he’d wanted. If he were miserable, then good.
Except for the part where Jacob had wanted to run to him, make him feel better, but hell if he even knew how to do that. By getting the most stubborn man on the planet to reconsider his stance? Not happening. And Jacob had his pride too. He wasn’t going to beg Linc to feel something he didn’t.
Merely thinking about him seemed enough to conjure him as he sensed Linc come into the locker room, large frame lurking far too close. Head bowed, he stood in front of his locker, making no move to start changing.
“I think Sims will have a jump for us sooner rather than later,” Garrick said, already in the first layer of his gear. They’d add the heavier protective gear right before they jumped. “Jimenez and his crew deployed at dawn. McKenna’s is on deck next. We’ll be up soon. I’m going to see if Ray’s clocked in yet.”
“Sounds good.” If Jacob was smart, he’d go with him, but he couldn’t seem to make his muscles move faster.
“You might want to hit the coffee hard.” Garrick clapped Linc on the shoulder. “You look like deer droppings, man.”
Linc muttered something that sounded pretty close to “fuck off,” but Garrick paid him no mind, laughing on his way out of the nearly empty room. Someone was showering in the far corner, but otherwise it was only them, left staring at each other, strangers who could have been everything.
“He’s right. You do look awful. You gonna be okay for the shift?” Despite everything, Jacob still found himself being the first one to speak, concern seeping into his voice despite his best efforts to sound detached.
“I’m fine.” Linc didn’t put any force behind the words, hardly sounded like he believed himself.
“Liar.”
“Like you’d know.” Shaking his head wearily, Linc rolled his shoulders. “And like you’re in any better shape.”
“Actually, yes I would.” He ignored Linc’s second claim. “I know you far better than you seem to want to give me credit for.”
Linc visibly deflated at that, upper body curving in. “I know. Damn it.”
His voice was pained, as if their very closeness was a wound or maybe a shortcoming he was trying to get over. And Jacob took umbrage at that, drawing himself up taller.
“You don’t have to sound so offended. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” He liked knowing Linc. Liked knowing that there were stories that maybe only he had heard, sides of him that few others got to see. But now instead of special, it simply made him more frustrated. “That’s all on you.”
“Yeah, it is.” Linc groaned then, scrubbing at his head. “Fuck, I hate this.”
“Me too, but again—”
“It’s on me. I know. Trust me, I know. And I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. This isn’t how I wanted things to go at all. You hurt is the last thing I wanted.”
Am I not enough? The question roared in his head again. Want. How silly. If Linc wanted, none of this would have been an issue.
“Pretty words, Linc. I almost believe you.”
“What do you want from me?” Linc wrenched off his shirt, tats rippling. He shoved his clean clothes in the locker, but didn’t pull out his gear.
“I told you already. Everything.” On that, Jacob wasn’t going to budge. He was done settling for scraps and almosts. Almost a date. Almost a couple. Almost love. Forget it. Forget all of it.
“I’m sorry.” This time Linc whispered it, more anguish behind the words, but all it did was enrage Jacob. This was all so fucking needless.