Page 76 of The Token Yank


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“He needs it. His stomach is a tank filled with alcohol.” Eamonn pressed the washcloth to his bruised cheek. The coolness of the water and the heat of Eamonn’s hand provided the perfectbalm.

“What is his problem? I don’t mean to be rude, but why were you guys ever friends with him? He’s a dick, and not in the fun, sarcasticway.”

“There are many sides toNathan.”

“He’s not anoctagon.”

Eamonn smiled at thejoke.

Rafe shook his head. He couldn’t understand why people put up with guys like Nathan. He was the very definition of a toxic person, not worth the time of genuinely good people like Heath, Louisa, and especiallyEamonn.

“Did you like being with him?” Rafe asked. That was probably a little intrusive, but it stung more than his bruises that a good guy like Eamonn got wrapped up with Nathan, a guy who broke his heart but was still lookedafter.

“Look, Nathan…he has some issues. After his mum died, his dad remarried this woman who’s just as high-maintenance as Nathan. As you can imagine, they do not getalong.”

Rafe took his parents for granted. They might’ve been overprotective, but at least theycared.

“He told me how tough things were at home. His dad always takes his stepmother’s side. He ran away from home when he was twelve, and his dad didn’t look for him or report him missing. After five days, Nathan just wenthome.

“When he told me that…I remember that night I just held him. I just wanted to make things better for him. Of course, that doesn’t completely excuse him for being a twat, or what he did tome.”

Rafe could see it in his eyes that Eamonn still cared about Nathan, even just a little. One thread on a piece of rope that refused to snap apart. They were connected. They always would be, no matter what Eamonn felt forRafe.

“I don’t view you as a cute exhibit,” Rafe said. He hated giving anything Nathan said credence, but he wanted Eamonn to hear it directly from him. “At first, I had this ideal version of events in my head, that I’d find this hot British guy, or several of them, and I’d have stories to bring back to the states. But then I met you, and I stopped caring about the story.” Rafe’s chest vibrated with nerves. “I’m sorry I called you my boyfriend before. I knowthat…”

“Don’t be.” Eamonn soaked the washcloth in more warm water, then returned to Rafe’s bruised face. “Are you all right withthat?”

“Yeah. It feelsgood.”

“No, the boyfriendpart.”

“I am.” Rafe wasn’t sure what would happen. They were boyfriends with an expiration date, but Eamonn had burrowed his way into Rafe’s heart. What they had was more than sex. It was its own kind ofadventure.

Rafe leaned forward and kissed Eamonn softly on thelips.

“I can hold that.” Rafe reached for the washcloth, but Eamonn wouldn’t let go. Something twinkled in hiseye.

“Iknow.”

Rafe gazed into those squinty blue eyes, eyes which could read every part of him. Their lips came together again, with more heat. But Rafe pulledaway.

“Ow. Sorry.” Rafe pointed at his bustedcheek.

“Right.”

“It kind of hurts to kiss,” Rafe admitted, and hung hishead.

“Then I’ll just have to be more creative then.” Eamonn kissed along his good cheek, then down his neck. Pleasure shot through Rafe’s face, momentarily numbing his bad cheek (though he wasn’t going to take chances). Eamonn’s scruff scratched against Rafe’scollarbone.

Eamonn ran his fingers through Rafe’s hair as his rough lips dipped at Rafe’s sensitive skin. “Is that hurting yourcheek?”

“No.”

“I should probably move further south, just to besafe.”

“Just to be safe,” Rafewhispered.

Eamonn