DREW
Monday work is an infuriatingly long day in my new office, consisting of introducing myself to the firm's clients, which I'll now take the lead on and actively trying to avoid Ben at all costs. Knocking out my new partner's son, my first week after the promotion would not look good. I'm still fucking pissed at him.
I drove home with dread in my stomach knowing the place would be as silent as it was all weekend.
I unlock the front door, my eyes are already stinging with tiredness because I haven't slept properly in days. Every time I close them I see that cold look in Ryan’s eyes. The fact that I caused him so much pain unintentionally… It's haunting me.
Stepping over the threshold, I instantly know something’s off. The place feels colder. I look around, and I get chills. What the fuck? His paintings, pictures and books, the rug… all gone.
When did he do this? Did he take all his things? Did he take the fucking rug? It’s like he was never here. I understand he’s angry with me, but this angry? Who even is this person? Because he sure as shit is not my Ry. Did I do this to him? Have I somehow managed to flick his humanity switch? Rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palm, I heave in a deep breath, trying to control my emotions.
Turning on my heels, I walk back to the door. Screw Nyx. How long is ‘some time’ anyway? He hasn’t answered my texts. He didn’t pick up when I called. How am I supposed to just give it an undetermined amount of time? Clearly, he’s had enough time to decide to ransack our place while I was at work.
I wanted us to talk, to start repairing things, not leave them like they are now. I fucking hate how things are now. I thought he just wanted some space. I haven't even had the chance to explain how things will be different now. I got the promotion, and I don't need to work so much.
What does he expect me to do now? Just buy a new damn rug and move on? Well fuck that. I’m sick of waiting. I don’t care what Nyx thinks. I’m not waiting anymore. It’s been days, dammit, and he took the damn rug. This fucking ends now.
One look at the time makes me groan as I realize this conversation will have to wait till tomorrow. Ryan will be off the clock by now, and I’m not about to beg Nyx to let me talk to him again.
With a huff, I stand in the hallway and dump my keys on the bowl by the door. My first thought is to go to him first thing in the morning fuck going to work. But then I don't want to mess up his day because this will not be pretty. I drag myself upstairs for another night of tossing and turning in a bed that still smells like him because I can't bear to wash the sheets.
The following day, when I finally give up trying to concentrate on client files, I need to see Ryan, so I wrap up as quickly as possible, leaving the documents in a state that will be easy to figure out tomorrow. Getting up from my desk, I put my laptop bag under my arm to leave when Ben enters my office.
“Are you taking off?” He asks quizzically, looking at his expensive watch, then back up at me, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know, man. It's the first week of your new job, and you’re already slacking. Tsk, tsk.”
“Think I earned a few early finishes and I have somewhere to be, so excuse me.” I try to walk past him, but his words stop me.
"You think this," he gestures to my now empty chair, then to the door, "is going to impress John and Eric? Leaving early for what? A hot date? Moving on from Ryan very quickly, aren't you, buddy?" What the fuck? Moving on?
"Well, I guess it is better this way. Fewer distractions from your work. Not that you let him distract you anyway. You were never home. Anyway, I just wanted to come by and see how the new office was looking." His grin is sly, and I'm on him in a flash.
“First of all, don’t ever speak about my boyfriend again. Secondly, you have no idea what you’re talking about. And finally, how I decide to live my life is none of your goddamn business.” I’m so close to him that I can see tiny drops of sweat forming on his temple while I’m looking down at him.
“Have a great day, Ben.” I hiss through clenched teeth and step into the hall.
Walking into the elevator, I keep repeating his words. What the fuck is his problem? What is he trying to achieve? I don’t need this drama right now. I’ll deal with it another time. Ryan is the only person I need to give my time and energy to right now.
I practically break the land speed record to get to Savage Ink before it closes for the night. Walking inside, the obnoxious bell rings over my head. I greet Nyx, sitting at the reception desk. I have nothing against her. I actually really like her. She's a cool chick, but right now, anybody that stands between Ryan and me is enemy numero uno. I can see the moment she registers my mood because of the panic that shows in her pretty eyes.
"Drew, come on, you don't want to do anything stupid," she warns me.
"Like what, Nyx? Let me think," I rub my chin mockingly. "Like him packing all his shit while I was at work? Because that fucking happened. You told me to give him some time. Well, time's up. I want to know where we stand." I'm furious. I'm surprised fumes don't come out of my nostrils. "Where is he?"
"He's with a client," a gruff voice says from behind me. I look around to see Carter standing there with his tattooed arms crossed on his broad chest like he's working the door at some high society event, and I don't have a ticket. I don't care. He won't stop me.
The Hulk himself couldn't stop me. I can do this all day. My mouth widens in a smile without my consent as it registers the little Captain America quote I just thought in my head, Ryan would have gotten a kick outta that one.
I quickly school my expression into a scowl to match his, and, for good measure, I fold my arms across my chest, mirroring his pose. I mean business.
CHAPTER 6
RYAN
The walls of Nyx's apartment were starting to close in on me. My apartment hunting hit a dead end pretty early on. When I realized that what I had in savings wouldn't even cover a security deposit, let alone the first month's rent, Nyx quickly reminded me I could stay with her as long as I needed.
Which meant I had no excuse not to go and collect my things from Drew's place. However, did I still wait until he was at work before I went back? Yes! Am I proud of being the most cowardly coward? No, but do I regret it? Also no. I was not ready to see Drew. I'm still not ready to see Drew.
Sitting up straight on my tattoo chair, I hear the bones in my back crack one at a time, relieving the stress of a long day bent over a client's Marvel leg piece. Austin has been coming to me for almost a year now, and I've been slowly building up his MCU-themed leg sleeve, and fuck, I love it.
