Chapter 29
Oliver
Itook a chance, acting like I know him better than his own husband. But fuck, I do. I refuse to believe that everything he told me – the things he loves, the things he hates – was all a lie. And as he grins into his drink, briefly looking my way, I know I was right.
Seeing Darius with another man fucking hurts. I try to look away, focusing on wiping down the bar, but he’s magnetic. The other half of my soul calling out to me.
Ryder situates himself in front of me, momentarily blocking my view of Darius.
“Quiet night,” he says, tapping a beat on the countertop.
“Ah huh,” I answer noncommittally. Ryder keeps talking and I move around behind the bar, reorganising the shelves and stacking glasses while casting cursory glances at the table of four at the far side of the room.
I catch the moment Darius stands, says something to the others and then makes his way towards the bathrooms.
“Cover me, please,” I say to Ryder, who is still talking about something or other. I don’t wait for a reply, rounding the end of the bar and heading down the corridor, watching as the bathroom door closes behind Darius.
My feet stall. What the fuck am I doing? We’re over. He’s married.
Dammit. I turn around, but I don’t head back to the bar. I can’t. My need for Darius is so overwhelming.
Jesus, he threw me away. Why the fuck am I chasing after him like a puppy?
Breathe, puppy.
I hang my head, my heart racing and my hands sweating at my sides.
Taking a steady breath, I close my eyes and that feeling that I’ve been pushing away since the day we ended comes to the forefront, stronger than ever.
Something is wrong. In an instant, I know it as sure as I know my own name.
As sure as I know he is the love of my life.
Without giving a thought to what I’m going to do or say when I’m in front of him, I turn on my heels, close the short distance to the bathroom door, open it, slip inside and flip the lock behind me.
Darius is washing his hands, and his eyes shoot up, meeting mine in the mirror. He dries them, then with a wince, slides the removable splint back on his injured wrist.
“What happened?” I ask, leaning against the closed bathroom door. He doesn’t answer, but does turn towards me, taking a step and then another closer.
“Why did you do that?” he asks. I blink, not sure what he means. “My drink,” he adds.
Ah.
“I didn’t do anything.” Pushing off the door, I step closer.
“Vodka and lemonade,” he replies, closing more of the space between us. “Not gin and tonic.”
I shrug. The space between us is now so small I can smell his cologne and it tugs on my heart at the same time it stirs my cock.
“You hate gin.”
“I do.” He licks his lips, my eyes drawn to the action, tempted to edge forward and trace the same path with my tongue. The tension in the air is thick, a live wire of electricity sizzling between us.
“You remembered.” His voice is soft, barely audible over the thudding of my heart in my ears and the gentle music floating through the speakers in the corners.
“Of course I did.” I reach out a hand, slowly running a fingertip over his cheek.
His eyelids flutter closed. “No one knows you like I do. He doesn’t know you, and yet you chose him.
” Darius stills, and I curse myself for mentioning the other man, especially when he steps back, the space a chasm between us.
“I should get back.” Darius tries to pass me, and I stop him, placing a hand lightly on his arm.
“Don’t go, yet. Give me a minute, please.
” Darius looks at the door and then at me.
Seconds pass and I think he’s going to walk out, but then he nods, his eyes downcast. There’s still a tension in the air, but there’s a stillness too that makes me brave enough to ask the question that I’ve feared the answer to since the night we broke up. “Why wasn’t I good enough?”
Darius shakes his head and the tiny stitches I’d tried to piece my heart back together with begin to unravel.
“Okay.” I adjust my stance, cupping his cheek to get him to look at me.
His skin is warm and I caress it with my thumb, gently tipping his face up.
“If you won’t tell me that, at least tell me you’re happy.
Maybe if I know you’re truly happy, I can let you go. ”
He swallows, his eyes going glassy. He blinks once, twice and then again, the wetness growing before he surges forward and presses his lips to mine.
I taste his tears as he slips his tongue into my mouth.
My hands move from his face, down his body, coming to rest on his lower back and I pull him closer, my tongue duelling with his.
Darius whimpers into the kiss, the passion between us growing.
He’s hard, his hips rotating against my thigh, and I squeeze him a little tighter.
“Please don’t let me go,” he mumbles against my lips.
“Never.” I pull his shirt out of his trousers, then slide a hand beneath, loving the way his skin breaks out into goosebumps under my palms. With a leg between his, I back him until his back is pressed to the wall, then I toy with the waistband of his trousers, groaning when my fingertips brush against the soft lace hiding beneath his slacks.
Needing to see all of him – and forgetting everything but Darius – I bring both my hands to his front, and start working on the buttons of his shirt, starting at the top.
When I get three undone, he suddenly tenses, pulling back, kiss slicked lower lip caught between his teeth.
“Fuck.” He shakes his head and reaches for his shirt, but it’s too late because I’ve already seen what he’s trying to hide.
With my hands covering his, I pull the top of his shirt apart. Dark purple bruises run the length of his collarbone. I grit my teeth, a red haze floating at the edges of my vision.
“Who did this to you, angel? Did he do this?”
Darius hastily tries to button up his shirt, but with his hand in a splint, it’s difficult.
The splint.
“And your wrist – did he do that too?” I step away from Darius, clenching and unclenching my fists. Anger boils my blood. “I will fucking kill him.”
I knew it. I bloody well knew something was wrong.
“Please, leave it alone, Ollie.” Darius gets irritated with his buttons and drops his hands to his sides. “Help me with these, please. I need to get back out there.”
Slowly, I approach him, then do up the buttons. I steal another kiss, hovering my lips over his.
“In this lifetime and the next,” I whisper. “But baby, this is still our lifetime. I’m not letting you go.”
His smile is weak, but it’s there even through the pain on his beautiful face.
“I knew you wouldn’t, and that’s the entire reason things had to be this way.”
Darius steps out of my reach and I want to ask what he means by that, but there’s a banging on the door. A rather pissed off patron is outside when Darius opens it. The guy shoots me a glare, then hurries into one of the stalls.
Darius slips out and I know I can’t chase after him. Not now.
But I meant what I said. I’m not letting him go.
Whatever is going on here, I will find out – there has to be someone he confided in.
When I’m back behind the bar, I take my phone out of my back pocket, search for the name of the person I hope will be straight with me, and then send a quick message.
Me: Can we talk?