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I desperately try to steady my breathing. “They all look great. If you hadn’t said anything, I’d never have figured it out.”
The change of his facial expression tickles me. “The tattoo artist is awesome, too. I have no idea if she realized what I’m trying to hide.”
Leaning forward slightly, I kiss his shoulder and end up on the puck.
“The P stands for . . . ”
“For Puck,” I interrupt him.
Evan smiles again. I can’t see his face, but I feel it on me. “Mhm. Kind of. It stands for Puckling.”
His old pet name for me pierces my heart like an arrow. I can’t speak.
He wraps his arms tighter around me. “Or for Parker. But that answer would have raised too many questions. So I say Puck.” He rolls onto his stomach and slides between my legs, rubbing his nose against my cock. “Next, I’m going to get a tattoo of your cock, and I’ll blame it on the tattoo artist, who doesn’t even know what a hockey stick looks like.”
“Evan.” I waver between outrage and laughter, wanting him to stay serious, and can’t believe what he’s telling me. I pull his head toward me forcefully. Reluctantly, he comes toward me. He can barely hold my gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing. You don’t have to say anything. That’s not why I told you about them. I don’t regret the time, but sometimes I think I’ve somehow wasted it, too. I realize we would never have made it through those eight years together. But that way, I still had everything that matters to me with me.”
I don’t know what to do or say. I never would have dreamed he’d open up to me this way. My bewilderment is clouding my thoughts.
Instead of making some pointless, empty promises, I kiss him.
And Evan kisses me. As if we could make up for what that damn sport robbed us of.
Hours later, I’m lying wide awake next to Evan, who’s sleeping peacefully. I can’t bring myself to let him go.
Knowing how much he’s suffered doesn’t help me at all.
In theory, I know all these things about the clients we work with. I empathize with them, too. But never on this level. Of course, I need that professional distance, which I’ve lacked with Evan from the very beginning.
That’s the first thing I have to do. We can’t go on like this. I need to draw a clear line between my job and my personal life if this is going to work out somehow. Not just because the company requires this distance between employees and clients, but because it’s the right thing to do. This isn’t a onetime slip-up that I can turn a blind eye to. If I want to move forward with my life, with my job, with Evan, and with clarity for myself, I have to set boundaries now.
I open the message thread with Carly.
Hey, I’ll send the official email to Simon tomorrow, just so you’re forewarned: Effective immediately, you’ll be taking over full management of Evan’s case. I have to hand over all responsibility officially. I’ll pitch the excellent interim results to Derek. You’re fully prepared and can handle this without any problems. This time, for real. This isn’t just talk. I seriously need to step back from this.
That should be enough to meet the requirements of my employment contract. And as long as Evan doesn’t come out to anyone beyond his inner circle, I won’t talk to Simon about it either. I’ll happily take that risk for Evan.
It doesn’t take even a full minute before I get a reply.
Is it serious?
I roll my eyes. It’s almost two in the morning. Why aren’t you sleeping?
I was working. Why aren’t you sleeping? ;)
Jerk. At least I’ve written you a message now.
She doesn’t keep me waiting long. All right. But there’s still the matter of the blackmail payment.
Yeah, I guess so. The lawyers are on it. They’ll take care of it. Other than that, we’re wrapping things up. Valentina has to head back to LA soon, too. The deal will be officially over by that time, anyway.
Officially. Since the two of them are apparently friends, that makes things a lot simpler for us.
Carly’s right. It’s not always this easy for us. But everything else with Evan is complicated.
Those are just formalities now. But even if there’s another fuss, you’ve got it under control.
