wouldn’t have been fair to ask you to remain faithful to me. I knew I could have no contact with anyone from my real life once I went undercover again. I couldn’t say ‘Devlin, I won’t be able to see or talk to you for anywhere from a two to five year period, and by the way, that’s only if I don’t die during that time and you simply never hear from me again.’ I couldn’t do that. You were a young man just getting the feel for your sexuality. It wouldn’t have been right to put you in a place of limbo.

“I should have ended our relationship right away,” Garrick said, his throat tightening with regret and loss, “but you were this wonderful truth in a new sea of lies I was about to dive into, and I couldn’t make myself cut off the contact with you. For that six months we were together long distance, I was having the tattoos removed and the FBI was also drilling information about this new organization into my head. Almost every second of that six months, I was learning to live in the skin of the new character I was about to play.”

Garrick suddenly surged upright and sank his hand into Devlin’s hair to pull him close. Clinging to the fact that Devlin hadn’t walked away yet, Garrick scraped his mouth across Devlin’s and drowned himself in the honesty and openness in his eyes. “And each day, in secret, I ached for that time we would talk on the phone or when I’d check my e-mail to find something from you. I craved every moment I had with you. But at the same time, each day, I hated myself more and more because I knew what we had couldn’t go on. I would have to break things off with you.” Garrick swallowed the bile wanting to rise inside him. “And I’d have to make it something so shitty you wouldn’t want a damned thing to do with me ever again.”

Devlin withdrew. He untangled Garrick’s hand from his hair but kept their fingers connected against his thigh. “I could feel you pulling away toward the end,” he said, his voice scratchy. “I knew something was wrong. You seemed less and less open, less and less like the person I thought I knew. Then when you told me you were getting back together with a girlfriend and getting married, it all fell into place for me. It made sense.” He looked at their linked hands, and his mouth pulled down at the edges. “Even though I couldn’t picture that self-assured man I knew in San Francisco as a person conflicted about his sexuality, I still believed what you said in that final e-mail. During our time in San Francisco, I never once thought you were deceiving me, yet the second I felt that blow of rejection,” he snapped his fingers, “I discounted everything I believed in my gut and accepted that you were dumping me for a woman.”

Garrick’s gut twisted with nausea. “Hey,” he lifted Devlin’s face and tried to wipe away the harsh lines around his mouth, “you don’t have any reason to feel bad about yourself. You were supposed to believe me. The e-mail was supposed to hurt you and make you angry and make you hate me. It had to. I couldn’t tell you the truth. It’s forbidden. Anything less than you despising me and thinking me the worst kind of coward and liar might have left you with some hope. That would have been worse, at least to me. I didn’t want you thinking ‘what-if’ forever.” Garrick wiped at what he thought might be a tear forming in the corner of Devlin’s eye. “Okay?”

Devlin swiped at Garrick’s arm. Then, with a surprising burst of strength, he shoved Garrick onto his back. He grabbed one of Garrick’s wrists, pinned it to the mattress, and planted his other hand on Garrick’s chest as he crawled on top of him and straddled his waist. Garrick yelped and put up a struggle ... just not much of one. He loved being under Devlin too much to risk actually shoving him off, and his chest swelled with too much love at the laughter he saw lighting Devlin’s pale gaze.

With his thighs squeezing against Garrick’s hips, Devlin looked down with a smile that went all the way up into his eyes. “Ego much, mister?” he asked. “Who says I would have pined for you forever?”

Garrick’s heart beat a furious rhythm under Devlin’s palm, but he didn’t break away from Devlin’s stare. “I already knew I would for you. Maybe I was projecting a hope that you felt the same.” Not an ounce of humor colored his voice.

The twinkle in Devlin’s eyes dimmed. “I did feel the same,” he said, his voice rough again. “That’s why it hurt so much. I hated that my instincts could have been so wrong. I didn’t trust myself for a long time after you.”

Pressure bore down on Garrick’s heart, and he almost couldn’t breathe through the pain. “I am so sorry about that. Not sorry I did it--I had to--but I hated causing you pain.” He reached up and cupped Devlin’s smooth jaw. “My instinct to push you away was right. I was undercover in that job for over four years, and it did almost get me killed.” The memory of the moon reflecting off the barrel of a gun flashed before Garrick’s eyes, and he used his other hand to rub his chest. “Twice.”

Devlin pressed a kiss to the center of Garrick’s palm. “I read Gradyn Connell’s obituary online the other day.” He dropped down on his side beside Garrick and curled his hand under his head. “What happened?”

Garrick wiped a hand over his mouth. Christ, this part still pumped insane amounts of adrenaline through his system ... and then ripped his heart right out of his chest. He turned on his side too, facing Devlin. “I made it inside

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