Porter reached out and touched it, his heart aching. Then he focused on the one right next to it, him and Gav, one taken of them a couple of years ago by a friend of theirs. They’d been sitting in the courtyard at the Toucan, both of them shirtless and wearing bathing suits, grinning as they stared at each other.

  Gavin’s blue eyes, his sun-bleached brown hair.

  His adorable smile.

  The truth was, he did love Gavin.

  Was in love with him.

  Deep in his soul, Porter felt certain that by not asking, pushing Gavin to stay, he’d somehow…doomed them.

  He didn’t even know why, and that was the most frustrating part of this whole goddamned mess.

  Yeah, fuck this shit. Between dodging Jayce and now this? Maybe they were signs for him to make a change after all.

  He grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone, and headed out to his truck.

  Chapter Six

  Gavin lay on his sofa and stared up at the ceiling.

  Why does this hurt so bad?

  He’d thought getting a little bit of closure like that would help him.

  Not so much, it turns out.

  He’d fallen asleep again and awoke to find twilight settling around the apartment. He still wasn’t used to the noises here, the rhythm of the place. He’d spent the last year living in a hotel room with a mini fridge and microwave, but it’d been worth it for the pay. His savings account was fatter than ever, and he’d actually started a 401k for retirement, something he’d never had before.

  So why does everything feel fucked up worse than ever?

  He’d played Porter’s voice mail and the guy sure as fuck didn’t sound like a liar who’d played him.

  Good liars never do, though. Never forget that. You forgot that once.

  He’d also started sobbing again at Porter’s I love you.

  The problem was, he loved Porter, too. This would be a hell of a lot easier if he didn’t love the damn guy. If his anger could outweigh the goddamned love he felt for the man.

  Then he could walk away from him without a care in the world.

  Or, at least without feeling like a chunk of his heart and soul had been forcibly ripped from his body and left behind.

  Fucking Jayce.

  He always knew Jayce was jealous of him over Porter. The guy had frequently hinted around at wanting an in with Porter as a play partner, but Gavin never dreamed Porter would ever do something like run around behind his back. Fuck, the guy had never slept with anyone else while he and Dane were together, for fuck’s sake. He’d never seen Porter lie to anyone before. And now…this?

  He still wasn’t sure which part of the equation hurt worse, that Porter had lied to him, or that it was fucking Jayce he was lying to him about. He’d trusted Porter.

  He knew Jayce could be skeezy, but at least he felt reasonably sure the guy was being honest. If anything, Jayce would hide a relationship if he knew he was the side piece, not flaunt it. The fucker hated confrontations. That had always been his MO, for as long as Gavin knew him. He only flaunted something he was proud of snagging.

  Well, I hope Porter’s happy with him.

  The sad part?

  He genuinely wished Porter happiness, because that was all he ever wanted for the man. Porter had spent so many years in such deep pain and Gavin now realized it was clearly obvious he had not been the balm Porter’s soul needed.

  Maybe this was for the best after all.

  * * * *

  Gavin still didn’t feel like eating by the time nine o’clock rolled around that night. Even the ice cream remained untouched in his freezer.

  Instead, he dragged himself into the shower more to not feel like an utter failure at adulting than anything. He’d spent the entire day on the sofa, napping, crying, watching TV until he fell asleep again, and repeating the cycle.

  He knew he should have at least tried going to the gym or something, but he couldn’t even manage that.

  He and Porter used to hit the gym together a couple of days a week. They’d get up early if they were staying together, or Porter would pick him up, they’d ride in together, work out, and Porter would drop him at work, which was at the same airport where Porter worked.

  Kent, Tim, and Paul had told him he was welcomed to return tonight and stay again, but he knew he wouldn’t.

  He couldn’t.

  He wasn’t fit company right now. All he wanted to do was mope and cry and get this fucking shit out of his system.

  Except how did he finally accept losing his best damned friend?

  By the next morning he didn’t feel any better. If anything, he felt a lot worse, because he’d slept like shit after napping and crying most of yesterday afternoon.

  He forced himself out of bed and to the gym, where he pushed himself on the treadmill at a punishing pace, so hard he got dizzy and had to sit down for a couple of minutes before he hit a stationary cycle, cranked to a hard incline, and finished exhausting himself there.

  In the locker room, he picked a shower stall at the far end and stood under spray as hot as he could handle it while he silently sobbed with his forehead pressed against the wall.

  Kind of felt like trying to detox, he imagined. Getting the drug out of his system.

  He couldn’t bring himself to delete Porter’s damned voice mail.

  The sound of the man saying I love you.

  The quiet hurt in his voice.

  What if I’m wrong?

  He strangled that thought and ripped it out at the roots. He wasn’t wrong. He’d been here before.

  Although that time the pain had been twenty times this, in some ways.

  And not a fraction as bad in other ways. Especially after seeing what Porter went through the day they lost Dane.

  This time, at least, Gavin knew his humiliation was mostly private. Unlike when Geoff had made him look like a clueless idiot.

  Gavin had been gone a year, and most of his friends assumed he was still out of the country. Porter wasn’t publicly parading Jayce around, or he would’ve heard about it by now.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t proof Jayce was lying—that was proof that Porter was still consistent when it came to keeping his private business private.

  Once Gavin knew he was steady enough to drive again, he bought a smoothie from the gym’s snack counter and headed home. He had laundry to do today, but other than that he planned to mope around some more, until time to go to work tomorrow morning.

  Tomorrow, it’d be back to work, and a welcomed distraction from his brain’s chatterings. His coworkers were nice, the company’s owner was fair, and the hours and pay were good. It wasn’t like in Costa Rica, where he frequently fought tight deadlines and shitty conditions—and anxious tour operators—to get a bird back in the air so they didn’t lose precious charter fares.

  Although the pay had absolutely been worth it. Except he’d felt totally isolated there.

  Worse was the fact that right now he still felt isolated.

  But that’s my own fault.

  Admitting he was back in the States would mean admitting he’d lied to Porter. It’d also open himself up to pestering questions from the few family members he hadn’t yet had the balls to block on social media.

  Kent, Tim, and Paul were the only friends who knew he was back, because he absolutely knew they wouldn’t tell a damn soul.

  * * * *

  Exhaustion took Gavin when he finally headed to bed around ten that night. After he fell asleep, he dreamed about the first time he and Porter made the transition from good friends to friends with bennies.

  That’d been at the Toucan, too, during a leather contest weekend. The anniversary of Dane’s death rapidly approached, and Gavin had met a guy looking for a hot, sexy, no-strings night with a Dom. So he’d arranged for them to meet him there on Friday night. It wasn’t uncommon for them to co-Top someone. They played together a lot, with Porter as his Top, but Gavin didn’t Top alone.

  Working on a willing bottom with Porter, however, was always like weaving magic.

  Gavin had coaxed Porter to go to the Toucan with him that weekend, and they’d shared a room with two beds, the way they had plenty of times before. They’d scened with the guy for over two hours. For the first time in weeks, Gavin saw a genuine smile on Porter’s face as the man lost himself in what they were doing.

  Neither of them had wanted to fuck the guy, but they’d stood at his head and choked him on their cocks simultaneously, per the guy’s request. As they did that, Porter had looked Gavin in the eyes for a long, sweet moment.

  When Porter slanted his lips over Gavin’s in a scorching kiss that had curled Gavin’s toes, it nearly made him shoot off in the bound bottom’s mouth right then. But it also lit a fire in Porter’s gaze.

  All while the bottom blew them, they’d kissed, Gavin quickly wishing they didn’t have the bottom there and could just get to whatever this new thing was between him and Porter. There’d been a desperate hunger in Porter’s kisses that Gavin wanted to slake for him. After the bottom sucked them off, and they jerked him off…

  Once they were alone, Porter had pulled Gavin into his arms again, without a word, and kissed him.

  Not just a fucking kiss, but a soul-melting kiss that felt like dreams and pain and hope and long-held grief all mixed into one.

  Gavin wanted all of it, the good and the bad, to keep Porter smiling.

  Some moments in life were indelible in the memory. That night would remain indelible in Gavin’s.

  He remembered how he could still taste hints of the cognac-infused cigar Porter had smoked earlier while they sat in the pool courtyard and negotiated with the guy before they ever took him back to their room. Porter’s low, deep, sexy groans when they’d made it out of the shower and back to bed, and Gavin went down on him.

  The look on Porter’s face the first time he slid his wrapped cock inside Gavin’s ass and fucked him that night, missionary, while jerking Gavin’s cock for him.

  The man’s O-face, which he’d seen plenty of times when playing with other guys, but never like this.

  Never for him, and for him alone.

  They’d spent the rest of the weekend naked and in bed, other than going downstairs to eat. That weekend he saw Porter smile more than he’d seen him smile in the previous year.

  And there’d been talking.

  Loooots of talking.

  Porter knew Gavin’s relationship history and hadn’t wanted to pressure him. He let Gavin set the terms, to start.

  Porter never pushed.

  Ever.

  It was one of the things he’d loved so goddamned much about the man.

  Back then, Gavin hadn’t wanted to be tied down once he’d escaped Geoff. He was still trying to rebuild his confidence from what he’d gone through in that relationship. So after that weekend, he and Porter became friends with bennies, even though he could tell Porter wanted more.

  The Dom got bonus points for not pushing him, though.

  Gavin didn’t want to get in too deep too fast, emotionally, with the man. Porter had his own baggage, and Gavin was smart enough to know he couldn’t fix the guy. He’d held him that horrible day.

  Gavin would never forget the feel of the hot sun beating down on them as he struggled to keep Porter out of Dane’s apartment while the paramedics and deputies did their thing and Porter inconsolably sobbed in his arms.

  The outright rage Gavin had felt as he did and would never tell Porter about, that Dane could do that not just to the man who’d loved him so deeply, but to him, too, his friend.

  That Dane had let his fear and pain win instead of letting Porter do what he did best and help him.

  Although one of the things Gavin loved about Porter was how devoted he was as a friend, willing to sit back and watch and wait, never pushing, until a couple of years later when Gavin had asked for even more between them than just friends with bennies and playmates.

  More overnights, at Porter’s place or his own. Going bare with each other and no one else, and having veto rights over each other’s partners.

  Not only could Porter blow his mind as a Dom, he blew Gavin’s mind as a lover.

  It felt natural calling him Sir, even around others. One of the few benefits of being a kinky gay guy in the South was the ability to call your Sir exactly that around vanillas without raising any eyebrows.

  Until last year, when Gavin realized they’d organically become exclusive.

  And how great that had been.

  When his buddy let him know about the job opportunity in Costa Rica, and Gavin had looked into it, it’d sounded great.

  Except…

  He didn’t want to do it if it meant saying good-bye to Porter.

  Gavin awakened in a sweat, heart pounding. He’d nearly had a panic attack while sitting there at the gate in the airside terminal the day he flew to Costa Rica. Literally, he’d almost called Porter and begged him to wait for him, nearly begged the gate clerk to pull his bags from the plane so he could go back home with Porter.

  The sadness in Porter’s eyes as they’d said good-bye one last time nearly broke Gavin’s heart.

  Except by then Gavin knew his job in Lakeland was already filled, and he’d still have to find another one if he didn’t get on that plane.

  So…he’d gone.

  Cried in the lav a few times during the flight, but he’d landed in Costa Rica, sucked it up, and…

  Cried.

  I’m a fucking idiot.

  He’d had the perfect guy, the best friend ever…

  And I threw it all away. My dad’s right, I’m going to die alone.

  And I deserve it.

  Chapter Seven

  Monday morning, Porter was, as usual, the first one at work. He sat there outside the building with his truck running and the AC on full blast and stared at the e-mail on his phone.

  The promised work contract.

  All he needed to do was digitally sign it, and he was set to start work when he gave them a start date. He’d need at least two weeks, because he wouldn’t quit without giving notice. That would be a dick move and he didn’t burn bridges behind him like that.

  Not professionally, and not personally.

  Not unless given a damn good reason.

  He struggled to not think about Dane, who’d probably encourage him to take the job and tease him for hesitating.

  He struggled to keep his mind off Gavin.

  Who still hadn’t returned his call.

  Several times yesterday, he’d pulled up Gavin’s contact info on his phone with every intention of calling him and begging him to talk to him.

  To at least give him some damn closure. Tell him what the hell he did wrong so he could maybe salvage their friendship. Gavin didn’t want to be in a “relationship” with him anymore? Fine.

  But couldn’t they at least stay friends? Especially after all they’d been through together?

  This job, and Gav, were his last ties to Dane.

  Porter closed his eyes and willed back the prickle of tears.

  Dammit, why does life have to be so complicated?

  If it wasn’t, maybe Dane would still be there.

  Fuck.

  He drew in a long, deep breath and held it for a moment before slowly letting it out.

  He couldn’t live his life waiting for things to happen that might never come to pass.

  He’d hoped his parents and family would accept him—nope.

  He’d hoped for Dane—and that brought a permanent pain he’d never be able to excise from his soul.

  He’d hoped and waited for Gavin—look where that got him?

  Opening his eyes, he stared at the phone again. Then he clicked the link in the e-mail, scrolled through the contract to the signature box, and used his finger to scribble some semblance of his name before hitting send.

  After shutting off his truck, he unlocked the building and headed inside to start his day. He’d have to call Tom, the GM, if he didn’t come in this morning, so he could talk to him about this. Put in his notice.

  Yesterday, Porter had skimmed through rental listings for the Sarasota area. He’d be paying a little more a month, at least, than he was now for a place of the same size. But if he got a storage unit and shoved his shit in there, he could snag himself a studio apartment on the cheap to get him by for a year and save even more money that way.

  Between his boost in pay and saving all that money a month, maybe he could save up a down payment for a house by this time next year. Finally put down roots of his own.

  It’s like I jinxed myself hoping it could be with Gav.

  By lunchtime he’d had the talk with Tom, who understood his rationale and harbored no hard feelings. Instead of staying there to eat, Porter headed home, which was only fifteen minutes away.

  He needed to be alone.

  I can’t undo this.

  He hated moving, and it would suck even harder doing it by himself.

  Not alone-alone, because he had friends he could call for the heavy-lifting part of it.

  But not moving with Gavin?

  That sucked.

  Especially after a year of looking forward to doing just that. Even through Gavin’s silence, Porter had convinced himself he’d be moving in with Gavin and they’d be permanent, and life would be…well, perfect.

  Expectations had broken his heart before. At least Gavin was alive and well, even if Porter had no fucking clue what went wrong between them.

  Staying here in Lakeland would be masochistic in a bad way. There were so many memories in this house of him and Gavin together that every time he turned around he saw him in his mind.

  The IKEA trips.

  Playing with him in the spare room, or in bed.

  Chilling out together sprawled across the couch in the living room.

  Eating at the table together.

  Cooking in the kitchen together.

  So much of his life here in Lakeland was filled with Gavin. Most of it was.