It reminded him of Christian, oddly enough. Of the version he’d met in school, before the weight of expectations took their toll.
The kid he’d met wanted to be treated like everyone else, but didn’t actually know what that meant. He’d tried to fit in, but couldn’t fathom what it was to live a life of average means. Heath was there on scholarships, loans, and a steady diet of ramen. Christian was there because his father was an alum and donated more yearly than Heath would make in his lifetime. They were not the same. They couldn’t be.
The sun had dipped well beyond the horizon, washing the sky in fading pastels. If things had gone according to plan, he would now know whether his silly little crush on Christian had held any water. Either they’d be together, or he would have been on an early flight home, wondering who he might talk to about taking on an assumed identity.
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
Terrible goddamn liar.
Heath looked at the man whowasat the romantic table with him. The one who’d just shared a part of himself he admitted to keeping hidden away from most people. He felt guilty for letting his mind wander. While the reasons they were there weren’t identical, they both involved other people who were surely front of mind more than they deserved to be.
“Yup,” he admitted, popping the P.
Evan’s outer shell returned, masking the softness behind the devil-may-care aloofness he wore like hardened armor. “Yeah, I get it. This isn’t even close to the vacation you’d planned.”
No, it wasn’t. It was better. Every moment of it. So naturally he’d gone and ruined it with careless introspection.
Christian wasn’t here, and the more Heath thought about it, the stronger the feeling he never deserved to be. Loathe though he was to admit it, Andres was right. This ghosting was a favor. Not only because of Evan, while also entirely because of him.
A week with this beautiful man, in this unspoiled paradise, had accomplished what no one and nothing else had been capable of: showing him what it wassupposedto be like. For allhis long-held fantastical notions of love and comfort, he clearly couldn’t have picked either of them out of a lineup. Not then, anyway, but now? Now his face stung from having been slapped soundly upon both cheeks.
Two mornings of waking with Evan beside him had broken the illusion. Try though he might, he couldn’t picture the scene with Christian in it. Couldn’t, and didn’t want to, because it was perfect with Evan. Everything was perfect with him, even the bickering. This was the feeling of contentment, and though likely fleeting, he wanted to savor it. Savor and remember, because it was time to swear an oath he damned well intended to keep.
He was never accepting less than this feeling again.
chapter 26
. . .
Heath always got that faraway look in his eyes when he was thinking about the prick he was supposed to be there with. The asshole who’d led him on, then tossed him aside for a shiny new toy. The thought only now occurred to him that Heath might see him in the same light. But was he the asshole or the toy? Shit, he wasn’t actually sure.
Tossing his napkin on the table, he pushed back his chair and stood. “I might head back early and get some sleep. I’m sure Iz will bring you back. Or I can walk. Whatever.”
Heath’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, and those stormy eyes pleaded with him to wait. If Evan didn’t get himself killed before the opening credits, he’d definitely be the jackass who trusted the wrong person and met a grisly end down some dark alleyway.I just wanna show you somethingworked on him like a charm.
“Can we take a walk?”
He nodded, aware that most of the family was watching them. He couldn’t put a finger on what they were up to with this intimate dinner bullshit, but he was a well-trained terrierwhen it came to playing pawn on someone else’s board, and his nerves were vibrating.
Heath reached for his hand as they started down the path, and he let their fingers entwine for the sake of appearances. Not because he enjoyed the contact, or liked the feeling of being claimed. That was ridiculous.
He’d walked this trail once before and knew it split off in two directions. One went to the massage and yoga huts, and the other went to a stretch of overlook dotted with plush hideaways. Little cabanas fitted with daybeds and gauzy curtains that were just far enough apart to be private. That was the direction Heath took them.
He was going to tell that guy he loved him here.
It was an assumption he felt confident in making, because the spot was beautiful, and Heath was nothing if not a hopeless romantic.
Why the hell did that sit in his stomach like a brick? They were both supposed to be there with other people. They were only together because those people had dicked them over. It shouldn’t bother him one bit if Heath wanted to moon over the asshole.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t had thoughts of Lucy and the repercussions he’d be dealing with when he returned. He hadn’t expected theirs to be a grand happily ever after. More of a joining of forces for the sake of prosperity, but it still hurt to be screwed over.
He’d introduced her to many of the players in his personal portfolio over the years, but access to the heavy hitters required inner circle. That meant taking his name—if only hyphenated. His father didn’t hand over business info to people outside of his very tight group. Evan didn’t even know what most of it was about, and he didn’t want to. His brother spoke fluent Russian, and that was enough information for him.
Heath looked at him with storm-cloud eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“You were telling a story, and I should have stayed focused. That was rude of me.”
