Page 45 of Toren

Toren huffed. “Same, but I’m here with Donovan. You’re on speaker.”

“Oh.” Andrew cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Donovan said, voice cautious. “Just…if I’m twenty-seven, where do I land in the Covington line of succession?”

A long silence and then Andrew said, “Marshall, Finn and Hunter, me, you, Smith.”

Donovan’s eyes searched the kitchen for any sort of peace. “Okay.”

“You had a test done?”

“Yeah.” Donovan blinked hard. “I have a brother. Stepbrother. Have a…”

“None of that changes,” Andrew promised. “Have you talked to any of them yet?”

“You were the first call,” Toren said when Donovan didn’t make a sound.

“Hunter is a good guy. Very level-headed and a good intermediary. Coming into the family wasn’t easy, but I think they got a test run with me, so if you want to meet them, I’m sure it’ll be easier for you.” Andrew paused. “Do you want to?”

“I don’t know.”

Toren took the phone off speaker and held it up to his ear. “I think he’s in shock a little.”

Andrew made an affirmative noise.

“Can I give him your phone number?”

“Of course. Am I seeing you later?”

Toren looked at his best friend, the vacant look on his face, the glassy shine of his eyes. “Depends.”

“Fair enough. I love you. Call me if you need anything.”

“Love you too,” he said, hanging up and setting the phone back down on the counter. At the confession, Donovan’s eyes went wide and his head snapped up.

“You love him?”

Toren nodded.

“I’ve barely even…not really met him,” Donovan murmured.

Toren came around the counter and took the beer out of Donovan’s hand, tossing it into the sink before walking Donovan to the couch and sitting them both down. He told Donovan to call out of work for the rest of the day, which he did, then he plucked at the laces of Donovan’s shoes and told him to take them off, which he also did. The two of them tucked in against the corner of the couch, and Toren wrapped his arms around Donovan and waited him out. It took almost an hour for Donovan to move, and even then it was only a shrug of his shoulder. Toren let it dislodge himself, and he leaned back to give Donovan some room.

“Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“I’m fine,” he promised.

“They’re…good guys?” Donovan asked.

“I haven’t met Marshall, but Riggs wouldn’t be with someone who wasn’t.”

Donovan scoffed. “You hated him for years.”

“I never hated him. Grief is weird,” Toren said. “That’s all.”

“And he’s with Smith. The youngest one.”

“None of that sounds like a question.”