Chapter Twenty-Nine
Eric
I ’ve felt this light, giddy feeling all night. Like there’s a parade in my chest…that feeling you get when you see it as a kid and it’s the most amazing experience you’ve ever had.
I really like going out with Donovan and our friends. I always have, but it’s even better now that I can claim him. I’ve never wanted to claim anyone before, but with D, it’s this powerful instinct I wouldn’t know how to tamp down even if I wanted to.
Which I don’t.
I’m not even sure how to put it all into words.
“You have that giddy Donovan smile,” Ana says as we wait for the drinks.
“I know. I can’t help smiling about him. Tonight is a lot of fun.”
“The two of you are so adorable.” She reaches over and squeezes my bicep.
“The cutest.” I beam, which makes her laugh. “It’s true.”
“You’re an absolute joy, Eric, and I hope you never change.”
Before I can reply, the bartender comes over and hands me my drinks. Ana didn’t end up getting one, so it’s just mine and Donovan’s. “Shit. I need to piss real quick.”
“Go ahead. I’ll take the drinks to our table.”
I thank her, and we go our separate directions. The club is even fuller than it was when we arrived, and it takes me what feels like an eternity to work my way through the crowd and the hallway where the bathrooms are.
The hallway is packed too, men pushing other men up against the walls as they kiss and rut together. My cock takes notice, and I can’t help but conjure up a hundred different scenarios where I’m making out with Donovan in every area of the club.
The bathroom is pretty full, and there’s no doubt that sex is happening in some of the stalls. Would Donovan be down with that? Sex in public? I want to do everything with him, as long as it’s something he’s into as well.
I take the longest piss of my life at one of the urinals, wash my hands, then head out, excited to get back to Donovan and our friends.
I only make it a few steps into the main part of the bar when I feel a hand on my arm.
I turn to see who it is, the smile immediately falling from my face when I meet Malcolm’s smarmy gaze.
My hackles rise instantly, rage and hate battling for dominance. It’s not a feeling I’m proud of. I don’t want to be an angry man. I don’t want to dislike anyone, but this man hurt Donovan. He took advantage of him, didn’t see his worth, as if he isn’t the best fucking thing in this world.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” I jerk my arm out of his hold.
I start walking away, but his words stop me. “I always knew you were fucking him too.”
I stop cold, body tight. I turn to face Malcolm. “Excuse me?”
“I saw the two of you earlier. I always knew you were fucking him too. He tried to make it seem like he’s so good, Donovan who cares about everyone and always does the right thing, but really, he’s just as bad as I am.
He was fucking you while he was fucking me, just like I was fucking them all at the same time. ”
I can’t move. Can’t speak. My brain and every part of me are fueled with nothing but rage. “Don’t talk about him. Don’t look at him. Don’t even fucking think about him.” My hands fist, my chest so tight it’s difficult to breathe.
“What the hell are you going to do about it? You can’t even function in life without Donovan. You know he feels sorry for you, right? Poor, stupid Eric who doesn’t have a clue.”
Even though his words hit every single one of my sore spots, I roll my eyes.
He’ll never make me believe Donovan feels sorry for me, can never make me doubt who we are to each other.
“You’re jealous because he’s mine. And you know you never deserved him.
You didn’t deserve any of them.” Our argument is drawing attention, the people around us starting to watch what’s happening.
“You used him so you’d feel better about yourself, about your pathetic little life, and now you’ve lost him and he’s mine.
I’ll give you a hint: he never would have been yours. He would have seen through you.”
I turn and take a few steps away when Malcolm says, “He really loves cock, doesn’t he? I bet you think it’s just yours he loses it for, but I couldn’t keep him off my dick. He’s a good piece of ass, better than the other two, but I’ve had better.”
I see red, my body nearly vibrating out of my skin. All thought turns off as I whirl around on Malcolm. I’ve never hit anyone in my life, but I can’t stop myself from drawing my arm back and letting my fist collide with his face.
Gasps surround us. Malcolm stumbles backward, nose bleeding. He catches his balance, and before I realize what’s happening, Malcolm is charging me. He knocks me to the ground, and then his fist connects with my eye.
I throw him off me, flip us so I’m straddling him. I pull my arm back again, when I hear, “Eric,” and look up to see Donovan watching me. Rylan, Hayes, Anthony, Mads, and Ana are there too.
I already feel my eye swelling, adrenaline and hate for the man beneath me begging me to hit him again.
The music turns off.
Hundreds of people surround us, watching.
“He’s not worth it,” Donovan says. “He’s sad, pathetic, hateful, and he’s not fucking worth it. This isn’t you.”
The anger in me decreases. The hate I feel for this man doesn’t go away, it never will, but Donovan is right.
He’s not worth it. “I feel sorry for you,” I tell Malcolm.
“You had the best man in the world, and you didn’t see it.
I won’t make that same mistake. I’ll love him better than you ever could. ”
I shove to my feet, push away from Malcolm, and go straight for Donovan. He pulls me into his arms the second I get to him.
Security is finally heading over to us, and Anthony says, “Get him out of here. He’s not even supposed to be in here!” his voice cold in a way I’ve never heard it.
Two big men walk over to Malcolm and pull him to his feet. “Fuck you, Anthony! You were always my least favorite, the slut of the group, whose own family doesn’t even want him.”
Anthony freezes, then without another word, walks away. Security drags a screaming Malcolm out, and then the music is back on.
Donovan turns his head, and I know he’s looking after Anthony.
“Go. Talk to him. He needs his friends,” I tell Donovan.
The war inside Donovan is obvious—part of him wanting to go be with his friend, the other not wanting to leave me.
“I’m fine, baby. Go.”
“You guys head to the doctor. That eye might need stitches. I’ll go check on Anthony,” Mads tells us, then goes the way Anthony had.
It’s then I realize blood is running down the side of my face.
“Jesus,” Donovan says, just noticing it himself. “It was probably his ring. That’s really deep. You definitely need stitches.”
“I’ll call a car to get you guys to the ER,” Rylan says as Ana hands over a stack of napkins.
Everything goes quickly after that. Donovan’s hold on me is tight as he leads me out of the bar. Hayes, Rylan, and Ana follow along, and by the time we get outside, Rylan points us to a waiting car.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Ana asks.
“No. We’re good. Can you guys make sure she gets home okay?” I ask Rylan and Hayes. I can’t help but notice how quiet Donovan is.
“I can get home by myself, ya know. I’m not helpless.” Ana crosses her arms. “But it’s very sweet of you anyway.”
I kiss her cheek, then climb into the back seat with Donovan.
“Too bad this didn’t happen when the urgent cares were still open,” I say, trying to make him laugh.
He doesn’t, instead turning my way and holding the napkins to my split-open eyebrow. My vision is blurry due to the swelling.
I sigh, leaning against him, letting Donovan take care of me. When we arrive, he doesn’t let go of my hand, pulling me into the emergency department of the hospital where he works.
“Donovan. What are you doing here?” the triage nurse asks.
“My husband, Eric. He got hit and needs stiches.”
I smile.
“Why are you smiling?” Donovan asks.
“I like hearing you call me your husband.”
His cheeks flush.
“We’re not too busy, and there’s nothing emergent. Come on. I’ll take you guys straight back,” the nurse says.
I sit on the bed in a room, while Donovan tells them all the information and passes over our insurance card. The nurse does her assessment before slipping out of the room and leaving us alone.
“Funny that we’re here. This whole marriage started because of insurance, and now—”
“You shouldn’t have fought him. Not for me.”
I frown. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my husband. My best friend. What’s worth it other than you?”
“Why?” he asks, and I hate to admit, I’m totally confused. Where is this question coming from?
“The reasons I just said, and because I love you and—”
“Jesus, Eric. You’re killing me here. You love me. You’ve always loved me, and I’ve always loved you, but it’s different now. At least for me. Is it different for you too?”
Because of the sex? But then, I know he wouldn’t be talking about the sex.
The pain, the fear in his voice, in his eyes, points to more than that.
“Because I love you and…” But he’s right.
I have always loved him, and it is different now.
It’s more and perfect and everything I didn’t know I wanted or needed.
It’s not something I thought myself capable of feeling before now…
before him. “And…and I’m in love with you. ”
I don’t just love him. I’m in love with Donovan. Maybe that should have been obvious, and maybe I should have realized it by now. Or hell, maybe I didn’t realize it because it’s just so natural, so instinctive, that it felt the same. Have I always been in love with Donovan and just didn’t see it?
“I’m in love with you,” I say again. “I’ve maybe always been in love with you, and that’s why it could never work with anyone else.
It never felt real because they weren’t you.
I didn’t think I could feel this way, D.
I thought this part of me was missing—wanting more, feeling romantic love—but it’s there. It’s always been there. For you.”
Donovan’s brown eyes well with tears, and his chin wobbles.
“Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.” It might kill me, but I love him too much not to respect him. “It doesn’t have to change anything. I just don’t want to lose you. We can—”
“I’m in love with you too. I’m so fucking in love with you, Eric. You’ve held my heart since the first moment I met you, I was just too afraid to let myself see it.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “I think I felt the same.”
“You’re really in love with me?” he asks, the question breaking my heart.
“I will always love you. You’re my person. Don’t you know that by now?”
He nods.
“Come here, D.”
Donovan comes easily. He sits on the side of the bed, grabbing my face and kissing me—lips, cheeks, forehead, and around my injury.
Everything settles into place, this truth that was always there making itself known to me.
Donovan and I are in love.
He’s my person in more ways than I thought.
That spark I never felt for anyone…it’s because he’s my spark.
I kiss him again and wince when pain throbs in my eye.
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
He pulls back as a deep voice clears from the entryway. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” a doctor says. “Hey, Donovan. You’re not supposed to be here when you’re off.” He shakes Donovan’s hand.
“No offense, but I wish I wasn’t. My…my husband had a little accident.”
“I didn’t know you got married. Congrats. We’ll take good care of him.” He smiles at us.
“Thank you.” Donovan pulls up a chair and sits beside my bed, holding my hand. We have a lot to talk about, but in this moment, nothing else matters but the man by my side, the one I’m totally, stupidly in love with.