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Then it hit him.
Race wasn’t singing.
Racealwayssang in the shower. It was an immutable law of nature, right up there with night following day, and red wine gravitating toward a cream-colored rug. A ribbon of unease unfurled in Butch’s belly, and all pleasurable traces of what they’d just done dissolved into nothingness. He got off the bed and went to the doorway. What met his gaze was enough to send cold spreading out from his core.
Race stood in the shower, elbows locked, hands braced against the tiles, head bowed, the water cascading off him and hitting the glass panels.
Something’s wrong.
Butch waited, leaning against the door frame.
Come on, Race. Don’t keep it bottled up. Let it out.
At last Race flipped the water off, jumping when he turned and saw Butch.
“Hey. You want a shower too?”
Butch shook his head. “Not right this minute.”
Race opened the door and stepped out onto the white mat, reaching for a towel from the handrail. He wrapped it around his hips and tucked the end in.
That skin-crawling feeling of something being badly out of whack wouldn’t go away.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
Race blinked. “Isn’t that my line?” he quipped.
“I’m being serious. Something’s wrong. So what is it?”
Silence.
Then Butch got it. “Oh. We’re not doing this anymore, is that it?” Race stared at him, standing so still, and Butch’s stomach roiled. “Hey, that’s fine. It’s not as if we didn’t know going in that this wasn’t a permanent arrangement.”
But itwasn’tfine.
Everything had been great, so what the fuck had changed?
Race sat on the edge of the tub. “You’re right—but for the wrong reasons.”
“So enlighten me.” Then Race smiled, and the sight felt so incongruous. “What’s tickled you?”
Race chuckled. “It’s a little difficult being serious when you’re standing in front of me buck naked, your dick already twitching ’cause it wants round two.”
Butch turned and walked out of the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” Race hollered after him.
“To put my jeans on. Then maybe we can have that serious conversation.” He grabbed them from where they’d fallen, squirmed into them and hoisted them up over his hips, taking care with the zipper.
If the guys back at the ranch had ever learned how he’d gotten his dick caught in the zipper’s teeth one time, he’d never have lived it down. And that was a pain he didn’t want to experience again as long as he lived.
Race came into the bedroom. “I should’ve said something before we fucked, but I knew it would change things. Call me sentimental, but I wanted our last time to be good.”
“What should you have said?” God, this felt so freaking ominous.
Last time? What the fuck?
Race sat at the foot of the bed. “I’ve been transferred. I’m going to Atlanta.” Before Butch could react, Race scowled. “Except that’s not true. I owe it to you to be honest.” He sighed. “I asked for the transfer. Not because of you,” he hastened to add. “You did nothing wrong, okay?”
