AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Win’s brow lowered. “Am I—How dare you?” He sounded equal parts incredulous and enraged.
Shit. “Win.” He held out both hands, a placating gesture, but even though Win hadn’t raised his voice, his anger practically had his entire body vibrating. “I just—I need to know how you’re doing.” That quick shit had shifted, and he’d lost the indifference he usually cloaked himself in whenever they were close like this. The nonchalance disappeared, and he desperately wanted to know.
Needed it so much his chest squeezed and he fisted his hands at his sides to keep from touching Win. He only held back because he knew his touch wouldn’t be appreciated.
“My being okay or not isn’t your business anymore,” Win snarled. His eyes shot sparks at Mathieu and from one blink to the next, the rage had been all but suffocated by the heartbreak that bled from Win’s gaze. “Your choice.” His throat worked as he jabbed a finger in Mathieu’s direction. “Yours.” His expression crumpled before he composed himself. That was the most emotion Mathieu had gotten from him in so long, he almost didn’t know how to react to it.
Didn’t know what to do.
How did you console someone as they fell apart from the damage you’d caused?
“You want to know how I’m doing?” Win asked through gritted teeth. “Fine. I’m doing fine.”
Which was a lie.
“It’s okay if you’re not. I—”
Win snorted. “Yeah? Is it? Fuck you, Mathieu.”
“Fout tonè!I’m not trying to argue with you. Despite everything…I haven’t stopped caring about you.”
Win’s eyes flashed a warning. “Then maybe it’s about time you stopped.”
Mathieu rubbed a hand over his head. “It doesn’t work that way and you know it.”
“What I know is that you called me over here on some bullshit, wasting my time. Do you think I just sit around waiting for your call? I have a fucking life and a husband I—”
Mathieu lunged at him, grabbing his throat and inching him backward, until Win’s back was against the wall, hatred glaring up at him from his eyes. He wasn’t afraid because he knew Mathieu would never hurt him physically, but… “No,” Mathieu whispered. His hand trembled where he held on to Win, the smoothness of his skin tripping Mathieu’s pulse, leaving him struggling to think clearly. “He doesn’t exist, not in this house. Not here.”
Win held himself stiffly, but Mathieu felt the way his heart pounded. The reverberations reminded him of those times when an embrace like this was welcomed. Craved.
“He is my husband.” All that spite in Win’s eyes. In his tone.
It sparked something similar inside Mathieu. “And I can make you a widower within the hour.” He leaned down, Win’s scent invading his senses. “Keep talking, Win.” He put his lips to the other man’s ear and growled. “Try me.”
“You would lose me.” Did he sound breathless?
Mathieu drew his head back just enough to peer down into Win’s heavy-lidded eyes. “Would I?” He couldn’t help the drawl or the way his body pressed closer. Win’s pulse sped up under the grip Mathieu maintained on his throat. “Does that mean I still have you?” He released Win, dragging his hand down his throat onto his chest while holding his gaze.
Win’s breath hitched.
Mathieu stopped breathing.
Their words had ceased, but Win’s heart spoke loud and clear. Mathieu swore he heard it, felt it beating through the other man’s chest.
For him.
For Mathieu.
He couldn’t help but remember how it’d been before it all went to shit. He couldn’t help but to ache for that time. Intense longing crossed Win’s features, fleeting but there just the same. He cupped Win’s jaw, fingers trembling, mouth dry. Since everything fell apart, they’d never been this close; Win had made it clear he wasn’t for it, and Mathieu had accepted his wishes.
But now.
This…
“Win.” It was as if the feel of Win’s skin, the scent of him, was pulling it all from Mathieu, all the things he hadn’t acknowledged. Like how badly he wanted them again. “I miss you.” It hurt, just speaking the words, and he watched as Win jerked, lifting lashes that had drifted shut.
They stared at each other and he saw all the emotions drift through the other man’s gaze.
