But maybe this was part of Preston’s problem. He went right for sex with Scott, never thinking about how Scotty felt. It was always his feelings, his needs.
And he really hadn’t planned to attack like this. He wanted to have the conversation he knew would be necessary to set things right, if it could be, but the minute he saw how wrecked and beautiful Scotty looked, he couldn’t stop himself.
Preston forced himself to step away, to give Scotty the space he deserved.
Scotty eyed him warily. “Coming in here, kissing me like that. It doesn’t change anything.”
Preston nodded. “I know. But I hope what I have to say will.” He turned to look at the other man. His eyes were still red-rimmed from crying earlier, and the emotion there was raw, wary. “I need to talk to you, Scotty. Sit down.”
“Okay. But I need a moment.”
“Of course,” Preston agreed and watched while Scott picked up his discarded shirt and shrugged it back on over his shoulders. He didn’t button it though.