Jesse

Fuck.I'd been right about the way he'd always looked standing in the shower with only his thoughts for company. For weeks I'd forced myself to only steal momentary glances, and for weeks, I'd thought the same thing I did the first time I'd seen him there. He looked different. Softer. Sadder.

When he'd spoken about his family, about his life, it just kept getting worse. I don't think I'd ever heard something so heartbreaking. I knew stories like his were far more common than mine, and that my life of love and laughter with a large family had left me sheltered from much of reality, but still. His only parent died when he was eighteen and then the sister he'd raised abandoned him because of the job he took so that he could afford to care for her...a job that was perfectly acceptable even though the way he'd begun had been less than ideal. Fuck.

I'd never forget the way his beautiful pale eyes had glowed in the harsh light of the diner as he shook away my concern and pulled his arm back from my touch. They wore so much pain. So much sadness. So much loneliness. I hadn't been able to stop my fingers when they'd reached out to touch him, and I'd tried not show how much it hurt when he'd quickly pulled away from my touch. I'd wanted to help him. I'd wanted him to know he wasn't alone. It sounded like he'd never had anyone, maybe not even a friend. It's not like we socialized all that much at the office, but he'd never mentioned any friends. I wanted to be his friend. I wondered if he'd let me. Everything about him said that he was strong and confident and comfortable on his own, but I didn't want him to have to be.

When I arrived home late that evening, my roommate Bethany grilled me to no end with a grin on her face when she found out I'd gone to dinner with Ash. Bethany was a medical student as well, which is how we'd ended up paired in the small apartment. She was in her second year and had already proved to be an invaluable source of support as I'd settled into the high-stress, fast-paced world of medical school. She was the only person I really knew in the city, and I'd quickly come to consider her a friend.

I'd told her about nearly everything after my job interview, including the way I'd almostbeen too panicked to even knock on the door, and the way Ash had smelled as he'd knelt by my side. Over the past few weeks, I'd told her about the way I struggled to keep my eyes off him when he briefly passed through the waiting area to collect or drop off clients. I'd omitted the fact that I had to walk past him, naked and wet and tempting, in the shower several times a day, and that I'd caved more than once and glanced briefly in his direction as I made my way out of the large bathroom. I certainly hadn't mentioned that the image of the way the thin streams of water caressed his harsh curves through the steam was seared into my brain and haunted my dreams on occasion.

Bethany handed me a small glass of red wine as she plopped onto the couch, nearly spilling her much fuller glass.

"You really think he's lonely?"

I shrugged, suddenly unsure of myself. "I pass by him sometimes at work. When he's between clients and I'm resetting the room. He just sort of spaces out. It's like he's so lost in his head that he doesn't realize I'm there."

It seemed better to continue to omit the fact that when this happened, he was in the shower.

"There is just something about the way he stands in those moments. It's like he's struggling to stay upright. And then at dinner. Beth. The way he talked about losing his family…I know he said that he's happy, but the look in his eyes was almost haunted."

She sipped thoughtfully. "Are you sure? I mean you know that almost no one has a happy shiny history like you, right? Hell, my own family sounds more like his than yours. I mean, aside from the dead parent and sibling abandonment."

"I know that. I know that I'm a bit naive when it comes to things like this, but it just feels like he's spent so many years alone that he's used to ignoring the fact that he's lonely."

"You think becoming his friend can fix that? And, you really think this doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you want to get into his pants?"

I cringed and dropped my head back onto the chair in frustration. "I know he won't want to sleep with me, and that's ok. I need the job more than I need to get laid. He just seems like a nice guy, and I want to help him if I can. I can't stand the idea of him being so alone."

She stood with a half-smile, wine already half gone, and ruffled my hair on her way to her bedroom. "Then I wholeheartedly think you should offer him your friendship. I hope he deserves you."

Some part of me couldn't help but wonder if she'd been right. While I wanted to offer him any support he'd accept, I did want to get into his pants. If we did eventually form a friendship, could I find a way for that to be enough?