Page 19 of Toren

“I wouldn’t have answered if I wanted you to call back,” he said.

“You always answer.”

“Exactly. What’s up? Happy Monday. How was the art show?”

A secret Riggs didn’t know was that Donovan was the reason Toren had even found out about Riggs opening the shop in the first place. Donovan, who collected friends like stray cats, was very close with none other than Holden Walker, one of the guys who worked at Ink and Ember. Donovan was the first one to say Riggs’s name out loud. He was the one to set Toren on his ridiculous path.

Donovan liked to know everyone’s business while not getting involved with it. He would share information but never meddle. He’d never once, as far as Toren knew, mentioned Toren’s name to Holden. He’d only brought the shop up to Toren because he hadn’t seen another option. Toren had been backsliding into his grief, and Donovan’s hands were tied.

“He’s a good artist,” Toren answered, speaking of Merrick’s handle on color theory. “Ask me how the night ended, though.”

Donovan made a pleased sound. “Did you finally get laid?”

“I did.”

From the other end of the phone came a laugh and the sound of Donovan clapping his hands. Toren could picture him leaning back and kicking his heels gleefully at Toren’s news.

“Please tell me everything.”

“He’s Smith’s brother.” Toren didn’t need to tell Donovan who Smith was, nor did he need to preface anything with a request for privacy. Donovan held everyone’s confidence close to his chest.

“Which one?”

“Andrew.”

Donovan hummed. “Not a Covington.”

“Calavert.”

“Interesting.” Another name undoubtedly into the repository. “Does he live in LA?”

“No. He lives here, actually.”

“Oh my.”

Toren chuckled. “You’re telling me.”

“So, the two of you had a passionate night of strings-free sex at a hotel in Hollywood and then called it a night? That doesn’t sound anything like you.”

His cheeks burned under Donovan’s scrutiny. “I saw him last night.”

“That sounds more like you.”

“I haven’t dated anyone the entire time I’ve known you. How do you know what sounds like me and what’s out of character?” Irritated, Toren yanked a file folder off the top of his stack and opened it, covering his phone even though it would do nothing to muffle Donovan’s voice coming out of the speaker.

“You don’t do many things by half. Can’t imagine you’d start with a man.”

He flipped off his phone.

“What’s the problem, then?” Donovan asked.

“He has a boyfriend.”

The other end of the phone went silent.

“They’re breaking up.”

“And you fell for that?”