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“No. That’s where I went wrong to start with. Listening to you, believing you, not so much what you said, but what you didn’t say, what you… Oh fuck.” He slammed his fist against the top of Thorne’s dresser. “I actually thought you were going to ask me to stay because you wanted me for me.”

“I do.”

“No, you want to own me,” Dash snarled.

“That’s not—”

“You want me to work for you.”

Was this about him not being out? “Dash, I don’t know if I can give you what you want, but at least talk to me about it.”

“You could give me everything, but you won’t.”

Could he? What did Dash want? “I… Let me explain.”

“No, I’m done being an idiot.”

“You know I care for you. That I’ve never—”

Dash pushed Thorne out of his way and headed toward the door. “I don’t want to hear anymore. I don’t just care for you. I love you, or at least I did.”

“You…what?” Thorne couldn’t believe it. His head spun. Dash…loved him? Oh, fuck. He’d ruined everything.

Dash turned to face him. “I love you. Are you happy? Does it make your heart sing that you conquered me, that you succeeded in owning one more thing?”

Tears burned behind Thorne’s eyes. If he’d had any idea Dash’s feelings went that deep, that he truly… “Dash, I never—”

“Right, that’s why you just offered to keep me here as your trophy.”

“No, that’s not it. I thought if you didn’t need to work for Sheila, then we could have a chance to be togeth—”

“Together? Seriously? What bullshit. If I worked for you, there would be no together, just business.”

“Then what the fuck has been going on for the last few months?”

Dash shook his head. “I thought I’d figured that out, but you just made it very clear that I was wrong.”

Dash walked out then, slamming the door behind him.

Thorne almost chased after him, but what would be the point? Dash hated him. What chance did he have now?

You knew better. You son of a bitch, you knew better. Hiring him? What did you think he’d say?

I should have phrased it differently, made it more clear what I was actually asking him to do.

You didn’t want him enough to do that.

I did. I wanted him more than anything.

Thorne sank onto the couch and buried his head in his hands. Sobs wracked his body until he couldn’t cry anymore. Then he lay down and covered himself with a blanket, hoping he could sleep forever.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Thorne heard something outside his door. The doorman hadn’t alerted him that he had a guest. The locking mechanism lit up green, and the knob turned. Dash? Had he come back? He still had Thorne’s key, though he never used it.

Thorne’s sister, Kathryn, opened the door and stepped in, closing it firmly behind her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

“You haven’t been answering your phone. Yesterday you left Lauren a cryptic message about being sick, and today you just didn’t show up. She was worried.”

Was it Tuesday already? “I screwed up everything.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Thorne, what are you talking about? Something at work?”

He shook his head. “Not work.”

She frowned. “But work is your everything.”

“Yeah, that’s part of the problem.”

Kathryn studied him, looking as worried as he’d ever seen her. How bad did he look?

“Jesus, Thorne, what happened to you?”

Pretty damn bad, apparently. He gestured to the half-empty decanter of bourbon on the coffee table. “You might want a drink before I explain. You can refill mine while you’re at it.”

She took the glass he held out. “You do realize it’s ten in the morning, right?”

“I don’t fucking care.”

Probably knowing it was pointless to argue with him in this state, she got herself a glass from the sideboard and poured a heavy measure of bourbon for each of them.

After Thorne downed most of his in one go, he leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. “I’m gay.”

Kathryn sputtered and sat her glass down. “What?”

“You heard me.”

She tossed back about half the liquid in her glass. “Wow. When you said I should sit down…”

“I really meant it.”

She took another sip, a smaller one, and set her glass down. “How long have you known?”

“That I liked men?”

She nodded.

“Since college.”

“No one at work knows?”

He nodded to confirm and then polished off the rest of his drink. He needed fortification after his confession. At least she wasn’t ranting at him.

“And this…” She waved her hand to indicate the blanket, the bourbon, his unkempt appearance.

“A complete breakdown.”

“If you’re admitting to it, then it’s worse than I thought. What the fuck happened?” His sister rarely cussed. He must have seriously shocked her.

“I fell in love.”

“With a man?”

“With a man I hired.”

“Hired? For…?”

He gave her a withering look.

“Ah.” She studied him for a few seconds. “The drink seems to have done you some good. You look more like yourself now.”

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