Free The Mating of Michael by Eli Easton Page A

office, and it’s….” He shrugged, unable to find the words to go on.
    “That’s good, though,” Michael smiled. “It’s so much easier to work at therapy when you have a specific goal in mind, don’t you think? Have you talked to Dr. Halloran about John?”
    Lem nodded. “He thinks it would be a good goal for me to be able to go out on a d-date with John. But I have a lot of work to do before I would feel comfortable doing that. I mean, look at me. I’m a mess.” He chuckled nervously.
    He was, poor thing. His voice shook, his face was still red, and he had sweat gleaming on his temple. He couldn’t meet Michael’s gaze for more than a second at a time, and he looked about as uncomfortable as a Lutheran in a flophouse. But he was still there, bless him, and he was talking. That took heart.
    “Well, I think you’re doing great. Tell me what kind of guys you find attractive.”
    “I don’t know. I don’t really care about that. Just someone nice, I guess.”
    Lem seemed put off by the question. Well, that topic was a no go. Michael made himself take a breath and try to get a read on the situation. He wanted to make Lem feel less anxious, and Michael sensed he was scared to death about what might be coming, about the possibility of contact. It was like being worried about a first kiss on a date. Maybe it would be better to just get it over with and make sure Lem knew the game plan.
    “We’ll take this slow, Lem, don’t worry. For today, I’d love to just talk to you and get to know you better. And maybe we could try having you touch my hand. Would that be okay?”
    Lem sort of shuddered and studied the cup in his paws. “I… how would that….”
    “Do you have a pet?”
    Lem smiled and glanced at Michael. “I have a Pekinese. Her name is Margaret. She’s a really sweet dog.”
    “I love dogs! Do you pet Margaret?”
    “Oh, yeah. We watch TV together at night, and she sits on my lap. I pet her a lot. That doesn’t bother me,” Lem said in a rush.
    Michael’s heart ached for Lem, but at least he was getting some affection in his life. Thank God for animals.
    “Then maybe you could try touching my hand the way you pet Margaret. See what you think of it.” Michael carefully placed his hand, palm up, on the sofa between them.
    Lem glanced at it and then away. “You have a n-nice hand.”
    “Thank you.” Michael left it there.
    Lem put the cup down and rubbed his eyes. He turned his body, which was stiff with tension, slightly on the couch toward Michael. With his eyes fixed on Michael’s hand, he licked his lips and then reached out and touched Michael’s palm. He kept his fingers tightly together and petted Michael’s palm three times before putting his hand back in his own lap.
    “That was nice,” Michael said gently. “It felt good. You doin’ all right?”
    “I’m okay,” Lem whispered.
    “Good. Would you like to try it again? And this time, I’m going to give you an assignment, all right? I want you to describe for me how it feels—the texture, the way it looks, anything that comes into your mind.”
    Lem took a deep breath and licked his lips nervously. He reached out and stoked Michael’s palm again, this time with his index and middle finger taking a more active role.
    “Your… your skin is cooler than mine,” he said. “But then, I’m, uh, I’m really w-warm right now.”
    “Your fingers do feel warm. What else can you tell me about how it feels?”
    “It’s softer than I thought it would be. Softer than my hand. Maybe you use lotion?”
    “I do use lotion. What else?”
    “You have a lot of lines in your palm.” Lem stroked them lightly. “Is that supposed to mean you’re an old soul or something?”
    Michael smiled. “I’ve heard that. I don’t know if I believe it. Do you?”
    “I don’t have much of an imagination, I’m afraid,” Lem said regretfully.
    “Being practical is good. Sometimes, I wish I were more practical. Is there anything else you