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“Put your head between your knees.” He laid his hand on the back of Riley’s neck and coaxed him.
“H-he told us to leave.”
Marc should’ve punched Thorne when he had the chance. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. This is your home.”
“But—”
“Riley, he’s being an idiot.” As much as he wanted to make Thorne pay, Marc knew Thorne loved Riley. Something was going on, but he wasn’t going to get any details out of Riley right then.
Like he’s not going to get the full story about me and Darius. He’d told Riley he wanted more from Darius, but not that he was in love with him. Wait, what? I’m not in love with Darius. Am I?
Now Marc was the one in danger of passing out.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Riley sounded so fucking small. Marc needed to focus on him, not the shit his mind was trying to convince him of.
“No, but the way we are with each other… I thought Thorne was used to it. Obviously I was wrong.”
A short while later, Marc’s phone started ringing. He grabbed it and looked at the screen. “It’s Kathryn.”
He stepped onto the balcony to take the call because he doubted Riley would like what he intended to say. As he’d guessed, Thorne was at Kathryn’s.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Marc asked. He would never have said that to Kathryn a few weeks earlier, but he’d gotten to know her a lot better since Darius had encouraged him to meet with her. She was nowhere near as straight-laced as she appeared.
The only answer either of them had for Thorne’s reaction was the stress of the wedding. Apparently, they were both on edge from trying to please each other, while holding back from saying what they really wanted.
Then Marc remembered that Riley had rented a cabin for the weekend, and he began to formulate a wicked plan to trap Riley and Thorne together and force them to talk through their issues.
Kathryn loved his idea. They made the necessary plans. Then Marc went back inside and began the difficult task of convincing Riley to go to the cabin.
“He thinks I cheated,” Riley said.
Marc tried to comfort him by rubbing his back. “I’m not sure he still does.”
“He sure as fuck hasn’t called to apologize, has he?”
When had Thorne ever had the balls to simply apologize? “It’s Thorne. Do you really think he’s going to?”
“Hell no. He always has to be right, but this time he’s fucking wrong, and I deserve an apology.”
“You do, but—”
Riley turned to him, his expression cold with anger. “Why the fuck are you defending him?”
“Because you love him.” And love was always worth defending.
And worth fighting for? Taking a risk for?
“Do I?”
“Don’t you dare say you don’t, not when you’re angry like this.”
How could Riley doubt how he felt? Didn’t he see that Thorne worshipped him? The man never took his eyes off Riley when they were together.
“How could he think I’d…?”
“Riley, it really would’ve looked like we were about to fuck to someone who didn’t know how we are with each other.”
“But Thorne does know, and he trusts me. At least I thought he did.”
Marc had thought that too. Was he wrong to trick Riley? To essentially pave the way for Thorne to get him back?
No, he was more certain of their love for each other than anything else in his life.
I’m such a fucking romantic.
He remembered Darius teasing him about that when they’d watched Dirty Dancing. He’d tried to deny it, but…
A romantic like him deserved what Riley had. So I should quit working for Darius? Move on so I can find what I need? Or should I stay and have the courage to go after what I really want? A costume shop of his own and Darius as his devoted boyfriend. Yeah, right.
Yet Riley had a bakery and Thorne, so…
Focus on Riley. “Take a day to think about what you want to say. That’s all I’m asking.” He almost caved and admitted what he was actually getting Riley into, but the lost look was back in Riley’s eyes. He needed Thorne.
“I guess I do need to get out of the city. At least at the cabin I can bake and try to not think about everything, and Thorne won’t be anywhere around.”
At least part of that was true. Marc took Riley’s hands and pulled him to his feet. “Go pack.”
“Have you seen my phone?” Riley asked. “I thought I left it in here.”
Marc looked around the apartment, but neither of them had any luck. Once Riley found his iPad, he used it to ping his phone, but the apartment remained silent until Marc’s phone sang out.
It was Darius.
“Hello.”
“Holy Christ, you tosser. Turn that goddamn noise off, or Riley will never see his phone again.”
“It’s there?”
“Of course it’s fucking here. Why else would I call you?”
