Chapter forty-seven

On a shuddering breath, Roy stared at his reflection in the mirror and then at the door, and then at the faint love bite on his neck, the tiles but the image that burned in his mind and made him ache was Bryan’s stark, haunted features in his room two nights ago.

He saw Bryan’s wild black hair falling uncombed over his perfectly arched brow and gleaming green eyes. Saw his sensual mouth compressed in pain. Saw the shadows of exhaustion between his empty eyes. Saw new lines carved deeper into his brown flesh. Saw the slight slump of his broad proud shoulders.

Remembered the agony in his eyes when he’d said, “Whatever happens Roy, please don’t let go.”

Why couldn’t he hate Bryan for abandoning him?

He should take off the stupid black obsidian ring from his finger and flush it down the drain.

When then did he fall to his knees and curl his fingers against the grey tie on his neck that’d belonged to Bryan? He buried his face in the soft material, inhaling his scent that was still faintly