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He slid his key in, swung the door open. He heard voices. “Riley?”
No response. He moved farther in, glancing toward the bedroom. The door was open. Riley and Marc stood by the mirror, all cozy in nothing but sexy briefs. Riley’s hands were around Marc’s neck, holding something, a tie, or a scarf. They erupted into giggles, and Riley buried his face in the crook of Marc’s neck.
Thorne thought he might throw up. No fucking wonder Riley hadn’t texted him back. He’d been too busy.
Anger rushed in, pushing the nausea and pain aside for now. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Riley turned and smiled at him, fucking smiled. “Oh, hi, Thorne. We didn’t hear you.”
“Did I miss this announcement when we decided it was fine to screw around?”
Riley looked at him like he was crazy.
He had a lot of fucking nerve. “How long has this been going on?”
“I don’t—”
“Always? So we’re exclusive, but not from Marc. I guess since he’s fucked us both that makes it okay.”
“What the fuck?” Marc stepped in front of Riley.
Thorne had never wanted to punch someone so badly.
He swung.
Marc blocked him.
“What the hell is wrong, Thorne?” Riley sounded terrified. But the impact of that didn’t sink into Thorne’s brain. He was dead inside except for rage and pain that threatened to tear him apart.
“Stop!” Marc yelled.
The sound was so loud, so vehement, that Thorne stepped back.
“You’re way out of line,” Marc said.
“Me out of line? You’ve been fucking my fiancé in my bed while I was out of town, and I’m out of line?”
Marc looked at him like he was insane. “Thorne, we went shopping. We were trying on clothes.”
“Mostly naked, all cuddled up?”
Marc kept giving him his you’re-insane look. “You have to get mostly naked to try on clothes.”
Thorne didn’t really hear Marc’s words. Blood was pounding too hard in his ears. He kept seeing Riley, laughing and nuzzling Marc, so happy, so carefree, not at all like he’d been with Thorne for the last few weeks.
Riley didn’t say a word. He just stared at Thorne like he’d never seen him before.
“I want you both out by the time I’m back.” Thorne turned around and left, messenger bag still on his shoulder. He didn’t even bother to close the door, much less slam it; his anger had turned suddenly cold.
He had no memory of entering or exiting the elevator, and he couldn’t feel a fucking thing as he slid into his car. Maybe he shouldn’t drive. But then he’d have to wait for a driver.
Fuck, no! He needed to get out of there now.
He pulled out of the garage into the hell of afternoon traffic. Where was he going? It didn’t matter, did it? He drove and drove until he ended up at Kathryn’s, sitting in her driveway, head on the steering wheel, tears rolling down his face.
He jumped when someone knocked on his window. It was Kathryn. “Are you okay?” she yelled through the glass.
He fumbled for the handle to open the door. “No.”
“God, Thorne, you look awful. Nina said you’d just been sitting here for a while.”
Great. Now he’d probably scared his niece.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Kathryn demanded.
“I…” The words wouldn’t come.
“Thorne, is Riley okay?”
“Ask Marc.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Thorne, what the fuck happened?”
“I got home, and he and Marc… Right there. They’d been… I mean Marc said they weren’t, but I saw them. Riley had his arms around Marc, and they were naked and so fucking happy.”
“What? You’re telling me Riley was fucking Marc at your apartment when he knew you were on the way home?”
“Yes.” His voice broke on the word.
Kathryn shook her head. “That doesn’t sound right.”
He dropped his head back onto the steering wheel. “I saw them.”
“You saw them fucking?”
“I…”
“Naked?”
“In underwear.”
Kathryn knelt at the side of the car. “Thorne, look at me.”
“You don’t understand. They were laughing and cuddling and—”
“They’re friends, Thorne. They’ve always been touchy.”
Thorne wiped at his watery eyes. “No, this wasn’t like that.”
“Come in the house, and we’ll see what we can figure out.”
Reluctantly, Thorne followed Kathryn up the steps and through the front door. He flopped onto the couch while she talked to her husband, Derek. “Thorne is having a rough night. Can you take the kids for some ice cream so we can have a little privacy?”
Derek looked over at Thorne.
“Sorry, I’m fucking your night up,” Thorne said.
“Are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“He’ll be fine,” Kathryn said. “He just needs some time.”
Derek studied her for a few seconds and then nodded. “Nina, Caleb, come on. We’re going to get ice cream.”
“Really?” Caleb called.
“Yes, but only if you’re in the car in one minute.”
Caleb ran out of the house so fast he didn’t even notice Thorne. Nina came more slowly; at thirteen she rarely ran anywhere. “Are you okay, Uncle Thorne?”
“I… Don’t worry about me.”
