“Yeah.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Ooooh, Gavin was starting to wish he was. “No,” he whispered, now feeling nearly sick.

  Porter’s expression transformed to disgust. “I wouldn’t fuck Jayce Dugger while wearing a full HAZMAT suit and a borrowed strap-on wrapped in a Hefty bag. Are you crazy? There’s not enough Lysol, bleach, and hand sanitizer in the world for me to even want to scene with him again. I’m damn sure not sticking my dick in the dude. I’ve never fucked him. I didn’t even touch his dick when we played that one time, and I damn sure didn’t let him blow me.”

  Oh…shit.

  Except, Porter wasn’t done. He propped his hands on his hips, glanced around, dropped his voice even lower, and leaned in. “Had I known what a fricking douchebag the guy was, I wouldn’t have even scened with him, friend of yours or not. You know me. I have a type, and Typhus Tommy is not my type. Why the hell would you think I’d ever in my life fuck the dude?”

  Gavin swallowed hard, the words now dried up in his throat and his lungs aching. It felt like the world was closing in on him.

  I…fucked up. Big time.

  He stared into Porter’s brown gaze, which, right now, looked like deep, dark chocolate shot through with wisps of interstellar dark matter.

  “Well?” Porter demanded.

  Gavin tried to answer him, but the heat of the Florida morning sun beating down on him, oppressively hot, baked into the pavement and radiating up at them, had dried all his spit and stuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Arching over them, a clear, gorgeous blue sky witnessed everything.

  I’ve lost him.

  In that moment, framed with perfection and aching beauty all around them, he knew Porter was going to walk away as soon as he heard the next thing from him.

  Because he’d have every right to.

  Worse—Gavin knew he deserved it.

  Gavin had to swallow again, and this time it was to keep from puking. “Jayce told me you and him were fucking on the regular,” he finally managed to force out of his throat.

  Aaaaaannnnd here comes the eyebrow.

  It was always Porter’s right one, something Gavin used to tease Porter about all the time. He was a lefty, and it was always his right eyebrow that went up.

  “Let me get this straight,” Porter slowly said in an ominous tone. “You thought I was sleeping with Jayce…because Jayce told you I was? And you never bothered to ask me if that was true or not?”

  * * * *

  Gavin nodded.

  Porter felt a lot of shit click into place.

  Including a metric fuckton of anger.

  Scratch that—rage.

  He struggled to rein in that rage and kept his voice low and even. “You thought I was pulling a Geoff and wasn’t being honest with you, so instead of, oh, I don’t know, calling me and discussing this like a functional adult, you decided to blow me off and ghost me?”

  “I—”

  “Ten years,” Porter whispered, rage seething within him, and not all of it directed at Gavin. “Ten fucking years we’ve been friends, Gav. Good friends. You were my best fucking friend. How many times in all those years have I ever lied to you about something?”

  “I—”

  “How many times have you ever seen me lie to anyone?” He steamrolled him now. “Jesusfuckingchrist, Gav. We were lovers for over six years. You’re telling me now you don’t trust me? After all the times we played? After all we’ve been through as friends?”

  Part of him wanted to grab Gavin and pull him into his arms. His gorgeous blue eyes looked full of pain.

  He doesn’t trust me.

  Sweat trickled between Porter’s shoulder blades, running down his spine.

  There were a lot of things he could forgive and forget.

  A lot.

  But if someone didn’t trust him…

  A cold, hard ball congealed in the pit of his stomach, pain and anger and guilt and no telling how much else garbage.

  It finally hit him they were standing out in the middle of the apron. They hadn’t attracted any attention—yet—but it was only a matter of time.

  “I can’t do this,” Porter said, struggling to keep himself in check. “Especially not here and now.”

  What he wanted to do was fucking scream.

  And pound the shit out of that little bastard, Jayce, but that could get him arrested. Because the kind of pounding he wanted to do to Jayce wasn’t the kind of pounding Jayce so obviously wanted.

  He turned on his heel and stalked away from Gavin before he said or did something that could effectively end his career in the Western world and get his FAA licenses pulled.

  Since he had no desire to work somewhere like Mogadishu, or Jacksonville, it was time to walk away.

  He ignored Gavin’s pleas to stop and headed around the outside of the building, almost at a dead run by the time he reached the Beast where it was parked.

  He did punch the side of the truck as he ripped the door open, though.

  Motherfucker.

  He’d cranked the truck and was starting to drive away when Gavin headed toward him.

  Didn’t he even get brownie points for not flipping Gav off, or peeling out and leaving a skid mark?

  He headed across the complex to his building, his mind surging with this revelation.

  I can’t even change my fucking cell number.

  He’d had it for years, used it for work, not just personal.

  But the thought of blocking Gav’s number also filled him with a different kind of dark pain.

  This wasn’t how he’d planned things.

  Gav was supposed to come back from Costa Rica, they were going to talk, move in together, and Porter would finally admit to the guy he wanted to make what they had a permanent situation.

  A lifetime kind of permanence. If Gavin would let him.

  Would finally be able to admit to Gavin how much he loved him.

  Finally.

  It wasn’t something he’d wanted to dump on the guy while he was trying to decide what career path to take, because had he done that and Gav stayed and things went south between them, that would’ve been double the guilt heaped on Porter.

  Had Gavin decided to stay, yeah, then he would have talked to him about moving in together. To save them both money and see where things might go between them.

  To give being more than just good friends an honest shot.

  To maybe trying things forever.

  Guess I can lay that dream to rest now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gavin knew he couldn’t drive on the interior service road with his private vehicle. He ran back inside. “I gotta run an errand,” he told Morris. “Where is Sunbay Aviation?”

  Morris stared at him. “What happened? Didn’t that guy get his part? Or did they get one of ours?”

  “It’s a long story. I need to go talk to him. Where’s Sunbay Aviation?”

  He turned and pointed to the southwest, across the open field and runway, to some distant buildings over on US41. “This time of day, you’ll need to go down to University and head west, then north on 41. You’ll never be able to make a left turn across traffic on northbound 41 right now. Especially with the construction.”

  “Thanks.” He grabbed his keys from his toolbox and bolted through the office. “I’m taking lunch,” he told Celia’s mom as he jogged out to the parking lot to his truck.

  Then, as Gavin finally reached University fifteen minutes later, he realized how damn long this drive would really take. On a map it should be a five-minute trip, if that. Hell, it was less than a five-minute walk straight across the damn fields and runway.

  In reality, however, it was nearly forty minutes later when he finally turned into the parking lot at Sunbay Aviation. He didn’t see Porter’s truck anywhere, although he did spot the old company truck he’d been driving.

  Taking a deep breath, Gavin walked inside the lobby, but there was no one in there.

  A moment later, just as Gavin was going to head through the office to find the hangar door, a guy walked in, a mechanic. “Hey. Can I help you?”

  Gavin needed to swallow and heard how shaky his voice sounded. “Hey. I’m from Addleson Aviation, over on the other side of the complex. I need to speak to Porter, please.”

  “He left for lunch a little while ago. Did we get some of your packages, too?”

  Gavin shook his head. “No, this is about something else. We’re…old friends. I didn’t realize he was working here, and he left before I really had a chance to talk to him. I was hoping to grab lunch with him. Any idea where he went?”

  “Sorry, he didn’t say. You’re welcome to wait for him, if you want.”

  Shit. “Thanks. I’ll try calling him.” He pulled his cell from his back pocket and walked outside to his truck like he was trying to call him.

  Instead, he got into his truck and sat there with it running and the AC on high to wait for Porter.

  * * * *

  Porter sat in his truck in the parking lot of Addleson Aviation and waited for Gavin to return from lunch. He could text him, but he was afraid if he did that he’d end up in another fight with him.

  He wanted to sit and discuss this like adults.

  Unfortunately, his lunch break was almost over, and he still hadn’t eaten lunch.

  And it was going to take him for-fucking-ever to get back to work.

  That was one good thing about Lakeland—even rush hour there wasn’t a fraction as bad as this traffic.

  After waiting thirty minutes and with no sign of Gavin, Porter finally gave up and headed back to work, grabbing a sandwich on the way to eat there. He couldn’t wait any longer. When he returned and walked out to the hangar to let Jim know, the man looked up from the plane he was working on.

  “Did that guy catch up with you?”

  Porter stopped. “What guy?”

  “That guy from Addleson Aviation. He came by looking for you. Said he’s a friend of yours.”

  Porter closed his eyes and mentally counted to five. Motherfucker.

  Of course, leave it to Gavin to complicate the absolute fuck out of an already epically fubared situation. “Thanks. I’ll call him. I’m sure we’ll catch up soon.” He returned to the office, sat at the front desk, and unwrapped his sandwich.

  Oh, we’re going to catch up, all right. And he’s going to catch a shit-load of hell from me.

  But he wasn’t going to call him. Not right now. Fuck that, if Gavin was going to act like a passive-aggressive teenaged girl, Porter would treat him like one.

  He had a hard time getting his mind back on his work though. After turning off the ringer on his cell phone, he threw himself into trying to learn his way around the office, fielding phone calls, familiarizing himself with their computer system, and getting up-to-speed on all the current and pending repair and maintenance, inspection, and repair jobs on the schedule.

  Mostly, he managed to keep Gavin off his mind.

  It was close to dusk when he finally walked outside a little before seven and locked the front door. A truck had been parked next to his, but they shared a lot with the business next door, which was still open.

  Then he heard a car door open and realized…

  Shit. Here we go.

  * * * *

  Gavin knew he should have called Porter, but he’d fucked this up enough. He didn’t want to do this on the phone.

  He wanted this handled in person, where he could watch Porter’s face, see the man.

  Convince himself Porter wasn’t lying to him. Because Porter was right—other than the occasional little white lie everyone told to spare someone’s feelings, he could not ever remember a single time Porter had ever outright lied to someone.

  Even when it meant telling an uncomfortable truth.

  Especially so then.

  Porter walked over and unlocked his truck without a word. Gavin thought maybe he was going to get in and drive off without even speaking to him, but all he did was put his stuff inside and then close the door again. He turned, leaning against the side of it, and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Waiting.

  Except…he stared at the ground, not at Gavin.

  Gavin took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

  Porter slowly nodded.

  “Did they tell you I came by at lunch?”

  He slowly nodded again, still without looking at him.

  Oooh, Porter was going to make him do the heavy-lifting here.

  But he also knew he deserved that.

  “I-I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you. You’re right, I should’ve trusted you. You’ve never done anything to make me not trust you.”

  Porter finally looked up at him, but he didn’t uncross his arms and suspicion now layered his brown gaze, which in this dim evening light resembled deep mahogany.

  He didn’t reply for…a while. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded soft, pained, and that knifed guilt deep into Gavin’s soul.

  “I don’t understand what I did so wrong in what we had together that would allow you to default to trusting that piece of shit over me, a man you’ve been in an actual relationship with for over six years. What was missing?”

  “Me, Porter,” Gavin said before really thinking it through.

  “What?”

  “Once I left for Costa Rica, it felt like you gave a shit about everyone but me, okay?” Gavin turned away from him, running a hand through his brown hair.

  “That’s not true!”

  He spun toward him again. “Well that’s what it felt like from my end, all right? You meet that one guy, Ivan? Like a month after I’m gone. He reminded you of Dane, and all of a sudden you’re off to the fucking races to swoop in and save him like we hadn’t been friends for ten years, and more for five, at that point.”

  “That’s—”

  “Don’t say it’s not true, because then you and I both know that’s a goddamned fucking lie!”

  Porter stared at him.

  “Because I heard it in your voice when you told me about him,” Gavin continued. “Yeah, bonus points for you because you were honest with me about him. But you know what? None of the other guys over the years ever bothered me, Porter. Seriously, they didn’t. Ivan did. Because I heard it in your voice that you thought he was another Dane. That was the day I guess I realized everyone else was always going to come first in your life except me. That you were never going to sound like that when you talked about me.”

  * * * *

  It felt like Gavin slapped him. “That’s not true.”

  Gavin snorted. “Really? From when you met Ivan, until you realized he wasn’t going to call you back, I knew you had him on your mind. You talked about him several times. I don’t mind the fucks who left your mind about the same time they left your bed. But Ivan got under your skin after one fucking night in a way that apparently I never could in several damn years. I guess I believed Jayce because I figured you’d made him your emotional DIY project in place of Ivan.”

  Anger washed through Porter. “Why are you upset about Ivan? You hooked up with a guy after that. You don’t hear me going off on you about it.”

  “No, I didn’t. We went out a couple of times, I blew him once, and I realized I couldn’t fuck him. I haven’t fucked anyone but you, Porter. Since I left. No one but you.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah.”

  Porter stared at him as he tried to process that. “But…but when we talked—”

  “When you talked, Porter.” Gav stared up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes, which were currently full of anguish that ripped at Porter’s soul. “I let you talk and realized that yeah, you asked me about work and things I was doing, the country, all that. But when it came to you playing around, my absence wasn’t slowing you down at all, was it?”

  “You’re the one who left me,” Porter screamed. “You’re the one who went to Costa-fucking-Rica!”

  “You’re the one who let me!” Gavin screamed back. “I even asked you before I went if there was a reason for me to stay, and you basically said not to let the door hit me where the good lord split me!”

  “I thought you wanted to go! I didn’t want to stand in your way! I didn’t want to manipulate you into staying, and I damn sure didn’t want to push you into staying if you wanted to go.”

  “I wanted you to push me to stay, Porter.” He blinked back tears. “For one goddamned time, I wanted you to push me. I wanted you to want me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, was for you to want me.”

  “I do want you, Gav! You were supposed to move in with me and—”

  “And then what, Porter? You keep fucking other guys because I wasn’t good enough for you?”

  Stunned, Porter stared at him. “Of course you’re good enough for me.”

  “Then why wasn’t I ever good enough for you to give up fucking other guys?”

  “Why the hell didn’t you say you wanted to be exclusive? Fuck, for over six months before you left, we were exclusive!”

  “Sure, by circumstances, not by your choice.”

  “Yes, by my choice! I had offers, and I turned them down. Because they weren’t you. Because I fucking love you.”

  Gavin’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “Yeah. You never thought to fucking ask me any of that, though, did you? Just like I didn’t fuck anyone but Ivan while you were gone. Blowjobs, yeah, I got a couple from guys I played with. I’ll own that. I never lied to you about that, either. But if you’ll recall, you’re the one who brought up not being exclusive while you were gone. I thought that’s what you wanted. It wasn’t what I wanted. I even offered to stay exclusive while you were gone, and you said no, that was okay. So don’t give me that fucking revisionist bullshit!”

  Porter turned away from him and ran his hands through his hair. Hell, he felt like ripping his goddamned hair out. Had he really done such a shitty job of showing Gavin how he felt about him?

  Apparently so.

  It sounded like Gavin was near tears but Porter resisted the urge to turn back to him and pull him into his arms. This had to be resolved first, and he wasn’t sure a half-screaming “chat” in the parking lot after work could be considered resolving the matter.