Fuck,thatwas what it meant.
“I’m sure you and Blondie were just doing some hippie bonding crap,” he said, too fast, hefting the laundry bag like it could shield him from Dave’s expression.
Because, in the past hour, he’d realized how fucking boneheaded he’d been. Dave wouldtellhim if he was going to leave him. He’d never hide it. That wasn’t who Dave was. Christian was assure of that as he was that Canada couldn’t make whiskey worth a damn.
“Justin.” Dave’s voice had an edge to it unlike anything Christian had heard from him before. “His name’s Justin.”
Christian flinched. Of course Dave remembered the guy’s name. Of course it mattered enough to correct him. And somehow that stung worse than anything else, so he let the bitterness speak for him. “Glad one of us made an impression.”
Dave sighed, and it seemed like his whole body slumped. “I don’t want to do this right now,” he said, then paused. “You know what? I don’t want to do this, period.”
Christian’s heart stopped. “You—” He stared at Dave. His heart started again, but it felt like it was going to slam out of his chest. “You don’t—”
But he couldn’t get any further. Dave didn’t mean it. Hecouldn’t.
Dave made a helpless-looking gesture with his hands. “I need some space.”
He reached out and picked up the car keys from the desk. And then the door was closed again, shutting out the daylight and leaving Christian in the gloom. Alone.
Christian stood frozen for half a second, cold all over. No. Dave didn’t get to do this to him.
He yanked the door open, following fast.
“Dave,” he said, and his voice came out too loud. “You don’t get to just—” He broke off, unable to say the words.
Dave stopped, but didn’t turn.
“What?” he asked, but he didn’t sound confrontational. He sounded weary down to the bone.
“You don’t get to do this,” Christian spat. “You don’t just walk out. And what about Jesse’s pack? We’re supposed to be looking into that.”
Dave looked at Christian then, and the sad smile on his face was the worst thing Christian had ever seen. “That’s what I was talking to Justin about,” he said. “We’ve got our answer—we can go home.”
That sickening thing was happening with Christian’s heart again as everything he thought he knew was yanked out from under him. “I thought we were staying here.”
Dave gave a shadow of a laugh, but there wasn’t the slightest bit of humor in it.
“Yeah,” he said, as though Christian had confirmed something for him. “That’s because you didn’t think about what I want. You never do.”
He turned away and opened the car door. Without so much as a glance at Christian, he was gone.
DAVE
Dave headed out to the cliffs. He needed space and peace to sort through the noise and anger churning through his head. He’d kept an even emotional keel all these years by working at it every single day, and in the space of a few hours, Christian had overturned everything.
He frowned as he pulled off the road onto the faint track they’d followed before. It hadn’t just been the last few hours, though, had it? That had been the flashpoint. It had been building for the past few weeks, maybe months.
And if he was completely honest with himself, maybe it had been even longer than that. Because heknewChristian loved him. That should be enough for him, only somehow it wasn’t. He wanted Christian to tell him. He longed for Christian to say the words without needing to be prompted. To show him, just once,that he came first—not out of obligation but because he wanted him to.
It was only when the bumpy ground in front of him shimmered and blurred that he realized there were tears in his eyes.
He was out of the car before he knew it, striding toward the ledge they’d found, desperate to drown out the thoughts in his head. He thought about shifting. His wolf surged up with a rush of heat and muscle, desperate to run, to leave behind the choking weight of human feeling.
But it wasn’t enough, not today. He could run for hours and still come back to the same place—still be the one reaching out first, still be the one holding steady for both of them.
And maybe that would be okay, if he didn’t feel so alone in it sometimes. If he didn’t ache so badly to be chosen back.
It wasn’t Christian’s fault, the way he’d been shaped by the life he’d lived. Dave knew that. And he knew, too, that walking out like this had probably undone years of work. Every small kindness, every quiet reassurance—gone in a single slammed door.
