It was truly over.
Like he’d said last night.
‘It changes nothing.’
That said it all.
The man participated in a ball-draining mercy fuck, and there was nothing here for him.
Despite what he felt, there was no way that this man would ever see him. In a way, he was grateful.
It would make the rest easy.
Because he was leaving.
Slipping out of bed, he prayed to a god that didn’t give two shits about him that he’d let him slip away without Corbin waking up.
This was difficult enough without having to make it some sorry-ass walk of shame.
They’d had sex, and it meant absolutely nothing.
To Corbin.
To Alex, it had been something, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t matter, and that was the bottom line. This had been a brief interlude, a short partnership, and Alex had to let it go. The man in bed was in love with his husband, albeit he was dead.
That was all that mattered.
Alex would never have a place in his life, and he’d never be more than the guy who looked like the dead man—a constant reminder to Corbin of what he lost.
Alex didn’t blame him for not wanting to deal with that. He wouldn’t either, so it was best to bid this disaster adieu.
Pulling on his pants, he zipped up, and finished getting dressed. When he did, he saw the hotel notepad on the nightstand, and he wrote something down.
Then, he slipped into his shoes and quietly headed toward the door.
Glancing back, he stared at the sleeping man, and memorized that moment.
Not because it meant something special, because he’d learned a long time ago, he was nothing important in anyone’s life, but because it had been what cost him his career.
There was no way he could go to work every day and see Corbin and know.
He’d fallen in love for the second time in his life with someone who was just out of his reach.
And it ended badly.
Once more, Alexander Bartlett had fucked up another part of his life.
And now, he’d pay the price.
Again.
* * *The Blackhawk Family* * *
The Same Hotel
Two Floors Above
The Boss’ Room
