But they’d come back to the Cove for a reason.
Sawyer needed to be the strong one here because the emotions rolling off Ciaran were starting to take a horny turn. “Coffee first, then we talk. I want to hear everything. You can do whatever you want to me later, all night long,” Sawyer said. Then he remembered the whole “leader” thing and how Ciaran needed to divide his time. “Or did you want to go see your boys first? Check in with them first, then we talk? Because that’s fine?—”
Ciaran’s eyebrows almost met. “Oh. I uh... I probably should, but I...”
“You what?”
He shrugged, embarrassed. “I don’t want to leave you just yet.”
Sawyer laughed because that had to be a joke, right? But Ciaran didn’t even smile, and there was a pang of hurt that hit Sawyer right in the sternum.
He quickly went to Ciaran and pressed his palm to his cheek. “Hey,” he said gently. “We’re good. We can be apart for a bit. It’s not like one of us is leaving town. You’ll just be a few doors up, and I’ll be right here. I have emails to reply to and phone calls to make, and your consortium needs you. Go call your octo-meeting, get all the updates, and you can fill me in when you get back.”
Ciaran smirked and held up two fingers. “Okay, so first thing. We’re not calling it an octo-meeting—that’s not.... Just no. And second, exactly howwouldyou like me to fill you in later?” His voice dropped, his eyes sparked with heat, and his smirk was downright filthy. “Because I can fill you in any way you like.”
They both heard Fray groan outside. “Jesus, again? You freaky freaks can’t stop for twenty minutes?” He came in through the front door to the police station and breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, at least you’re still both clothed. Thank the gods for small mercies.”
Sawyer laughed, and with a soft kiss on Ciaran’s lips, he pushed him toward the door. “Go see your boys. I’ll be here, getting my arse reamed by Hadeom.”
Fray grimaced, and Ciaran growled.
“Not in a good way,” Sawyer added, then winked at Ciaran. “Not in the way you’ll be doing later.”
Ciaran made that purry noise, and Fray threw up his hands. “That’s it. I’m out.”
He went for the door, but Sawyer quickly walked Ciaran out with him, all but shoving him out the door. “Take him with you or he won’t leave.”
Ciaran looked about to object or whine, but Fray dragged him out, grumbling as they went. Ciaran smiled at Sawyer over his shoulder before Sawyer closed the door.
He stood there for a moment, grinning like a madman, and even chuckled to himself a little, feeling positively giddy. Then he sat at his desk to do some admin...
And he felt it.
A soft burr under his ribs, like a rock in his shoe or a splinter he could feel but couldn’t see—annoying, but not quite painful, so he could ignore it for now. It felt like artificial pain, as if it should hurt and would if it could, like it was sending pain messages his brain receptors couldn’t process.
Until he’d checked some emails and filtered out messages, did some log reports, and he couldn’t ignore it anymore.
The annoying burr was getting painful, the splinter now infected, growing warmer and warmer. He rubbed the heel of his hand over his sternum and let out a low breath, trying to compartmentalise the pain.
The pain that was now beginning to feel real.
He knew it wasn’t a heart attack, though it sure felt like one. He knew exactly what it was, and the more he tried to ignore it now, the longer he let it go on, the worse it got.
Ciaran.
He needed Ciaran.
What the fuck?
And so he tried to hold out. There was nothing wrong with him. Ciaran was just a few doors up—and it had been literally ten fucking minutes since he’d seen him.
He could last longer than ten minutes, right?
Because what the fucking fuck?
He was assured he’d have full autonomy, that he’d be his own person, but this was...
This was getting hard to ignore.
