Maksim: Look what I found.

Marshall: Is that a coffee mug?

Maksim: Yes. As soon as I saw your name on the back of the little football jersey, I knew I had to have it. I didn’t realize it was a mug until I paid for it.

Marshall: That’s awesome. Now I can be on your lips even when I’m not around.

Maksim: Exactly so.

* * *

Marshall: Any luck getting Herschel signed with Ontario?

Maksim: You have no idea how diva-like some of these people are.

Marshall: Lol. Is that a yes or a no?

Maksim: I’m still not sure. It looks like I’ll be here at least one more night.

Marshall: okay.

Maksim: I’m sorry. I know we had plans.

Marshall: Don’t worry over me. You’ve never made me any promises.

* * *

Maksim: I have a meeting with Kieran Steele next Tuesday.

Marshall: Do you need a place to stay while in town?

Maksim: What I need is to see you.

Marshall: Done.

* * *

Maksim: Do you remember that Kentucky guy from a few months back?

Marshall: The big-headed Winger? How could I forget?

Maksim: You were right. New York signed him and he’s already out for the season with a leg injury.

Marshall: Maybe I should go with you more often to check out these players.

Maksim: I like this plan. You. Me. A hotel room with a jacuzzi.

Marshall: Let’s make it happen.

* * *

New Year’s Eve…

Marshall: What are you doing right now?

Maksim: Sitting here with a cup of hot cocoa and waiting for the fireworks over Park Slope.

Marshall: Sounds nice.

Maksim: It’s cold as fuck. What are you doing?

Marshall: Sitting downstairs, enjoying the silence.

Maksim: Sounds lonely.

Marshall: It’s not so bad.

Maksim: Can I call?

Marshall: I’d like that.

* * *

There was something about the tone of Marshall’s texts that had Maksim needing to hear the man’s voice. Marshall answered on the first ring—like he was excited to hear from Maksim. The idea warmed Maksim’s insides quicker than any amount of cocoa.

“Hey,” Marshall said, sounding breathless.

“Hey, sexy. What are you wearing?”

A soft chuckle caressed Maksim’s ear. He buried the lower half of his face inside his scarf to hide his huge grin. “Workout shorts. I just got home from the gym ten minutes ago.”

“Is that it? Just workout shorts?”

“Is that the only reason you called?” Marshall asked. “To find out what I’m wearing? If so, you should’ve FaceTimed me. I could’ve given you a real show.”

Maksim had never been more thankful for his thick coat, hiding his instant erection. Even the cold couldn’t douse his desire for Marshall. “I have faith you could talk me through the process.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know. You’re in the park with cocoa. That sounds like some wholesome shit where you can’t touch yourself.”

Maksim was having the time of his life. “True, but I enjoy having my mind fucked too.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Marshall said. His voice turned sultry. “The shorts are coming off. Don’t scar anyone’s kids. You still have time to change your mind.”

“I’m all in, baby. Let me have it.”

Marshall’s dark chuckle had Maksim bracing himself. “I’ve been thinking about you all night.”

“Have you?”

“Yep,” Marshall said, sounding the same as when Maksim fucked him. Jesus. This was torture. “Every place I look, I see a spot where you could fuck me.”

“Maksim?”

Maksim jumped at the man’s sudden appearance over his shoulder. He’d been so engrossed in his conversation with Marshall he’d forgotten he was in public. He turned to find Kentucky, hopping on crutches and smiling like they were old friends.

“Hi,” Maksim said, sounding nervous even to his ears. It felt like he’d just gotten busted fucking Marshall in the park.

“Who is that?” Marshall asked. All hint of lust had disappeared from the man’s voice.

“Kentucky.”

“You haven’t forgotten me,” Kentucky said, as if Maksim had been speaking to him.

“Kentucky? Are you being serious?” Marshall asked. His irritation sounded loud and clear through the line.

“Unfortunately,” Maksim said. He couldn’t help the dry tone. This was bad.

“Wow,” Kentucky said. “I wasn’t expecting that greeting.”

Maksim felt like a complete ass. “No,” he rushed to explain. Maksim motioned toward the phone. “I’m having two conversations at once,” Maksim explained. “That wasn’t about you.”

Marshall’s sexy chuckle had Maksim ready to groan. “Liar.”

“Oh,” Kentucky said, brightening. “I didn’t realize you were busy. I’ll leave you to your call.”

“It’s okay, Mak. Go chat with the guy. He’s probably down about being out for the season.”

Maksim bit back a growl. “Hold on a second, baby.” He moved the phone away from his mouth and focused on Kentucky. “Let me finish my call and I’ll catch up with you in a few, okay?”

Kentucky’s smile let Maksim know Marshall was probably right. The thing was, Maksim didn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve with a guy he barely knew. He wanted to be with Marshall. Plus, the last thing Maksim needed was for Marshall to think he was interested in anyone other than him. Sometimes he thought he might be winning the man’s heart. Maksim didn’t want to lose ground.

“That’s cool,” Kentucky said, motioning toward a spot nearby. “I’m hanging out over there with a few of my teammates.”

Maksim flashed him a smile. “Be there in a few.” He watched the man hop away before returning to his phone call. “So, are those shorts still off?”

“Sounds like you’ve got more men than you can handle tonight.” Marshall didn’t sound upset, merely resigned.

Maksim stared at his feet as he toed the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Marshall rushed to reassure him. “I know I’m not the only...” Marshall stopped and didn’t say anything else for a full five seconds, making Maksim want to scream. Finally, he sighed. “It’s okay, gorgeous. Go. It’s New Year’s Eve. Have fun.”

Maksim didn’t know how to fix this, so he bailed. “Okay. I guess I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Sure,” Marshall said, sounding like he didn’t believe it.

Fuck. “Goodnight, babe.”

“Goodnight,” Marshall said, disconnecting their call.

Maksim stared at the night sky as he stuffed his phone inside his jacket. All he cared about was in New Orleans. He was stuck in New York.

Kentucky appeared at his side, startling him a second time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt a call with your man. How long have you been seeing each other?”

Maksim flashed him a quick smile. “It’s okay. We’ve only been together a few months. It’s long distance, so nights like this aren’t easy.”

Kentucky looked more solemn than Maksim ever imagined the man could be. “When you travel as much as we do, it doesn’t matter where you live; everything is long distance. Sometimes you meet someone worth it, though.”

Despite the way the night had gone to hell, Maksim’s lips turned up in the corners. “He’s worth it.”

“Then why are you here?” Kentucky asked. Curiosity dripped from each word.

Maksim shrugged. “By the time I got there, I’d have to head to Chicago the next day.”

“So,” Kentucky said, staring off into the distance. “That’s twenty-four hours with someone worthwhile. That’s more than some people get.”

Maksim shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He kept his gaze locked on the sky. No doubt he could see the stars in New Orleans. Not here. “I guess I should try to grab a flight.”

Kentucky slapped him across the back. “Off with you. Tell Marshall I said hi.”

Maksim’s head whipped around at Kentucky’s words. The man was already hopping away, stealing Maksim’s chance to ask how he’d known. Fuck. All he could do was hope the man kept his correct assumptions to himself. Marshall would never forgive Maksim otherwise.

* * *

With his arms crossed over his chest, hoping to protect his heart, Marshall stared at his phone. Thirteen hundred miles away, Maksim was with Kentucky. Now that Kentucky played for New York, he lived in the same town as Maksim. He could be in Maksim’s bed every night. The dude was out for the season. His life could revolve around Maksim. Marshall rubbed his chest. His heart hurt. Kentucky was sexy, arrogant, and secure in his sexuality. The man was everything Maksim deserved. Marshall didn’t stand a chance.

He had no idea how much time passed while he stared at nothing and ached. Marshall sighed and stood. Maksim was single. Marshall couldn’t stop him from fucking anyone else. He would take a shower and go to bed. Maybe tomorrow he wouldn’t still feel sick at the thought of Maksim’s name. Marshall let the water scald his skin. He stood under the stream until it turned cold. After turning off the water, Marshall didn’t bother getting dressed. That was one of the perks of having no one love him. There was no one there to tell him to put on pants. He ran through the nightly routine of brushing his teeth and locking doors. Still, he didn’t go to bed. Instead, Marshall paced the floor. Was Kentucky beneath Maksim yet? It was an hour ahead in New York. The fireworks would’ve flown, the ball dropped, and Kentucky had taken his place.

When a loud succession of knocking rang out, Marshall’s gaze flew to the door. “Who in the hell?”

The knocks came again. Marshall checked the peephole. He bit his lip, trying to temper his smile. Maksim stood on the other side. Marshall opened the door, keeping his nudity hidden behind the wooden barrier. “You’re here,” Marshall pointed out unnecessarily.

Maksim’s violet eyes shone bright with mischief. “I hopped the first flight I could—” Maksim’s words died a swift death as Marshall closed the door. “Do you always answer the door in the buff?”

“Only for sexy talent scouts.”

Humor filled Maksim’s gaze. “That narrows it down a bit.” Maksim’s palm slid across Marshall’s hip. “Damn. You’re an amazing sight for starving eyes.”

Marshall’s cheeks ached. Happiness owned him. He couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re here,” Marshall said again. There was no way Maksim could know how he’d appeared at just the right time, saving Marshall’s sanity.

Maksim shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside. “I couldn’t stay away,” Maksim confessed as he shuffled closer. His hands found Marshall’s hips, towing him against his body. “I was standing there, staring at the light-polluted sky, waiting for fireworks I didn’t care to see with Kentucky talking my ear off, and it hit me. I missed you, and there’s no one else I’d rather be with tonight.”

Marshall didn’t want to be moved. He was scared to read too much into Maksim’s claim. “I’m glad you’re here,” Marshall said, choosing to live in the moment. They were evenly matched in height. Marshall didn’t have to move far to steal a kiss. He thought to be quick and move away. Then their lips met, and all bets were off. The uncertainty of where he stood with Maksim was always a stone in his gut. The only time the pressure eased was when Maksim touched him.

“I feel overdressed,” Maksim said as he changed angles, coming at Marshall from a different direction.

Marshall went for the button of Maksim’s jeans. “We should fix that.”

With both of them tearing at Maksim’s clothes, he was nude in no time. When their bare skin touched, Marshall sucked in a hiss. Maksim was cold to the touch from being outside, but he still set Marshall on fire. Maksim’s kiss softened. The move punched Marshall in the heart. It was almost sickening how badly he wanted to call Maksim his. There was a hint of bitterness mixed with his longing because he knew it would never happen.

Marshall’s lips moved to Maksim’s jaw and then to his neck. Maksim palmed Marshall’s hard cock. “Let’s take this to my bedroom.”

“I want to bend you over the couch,” Maksim said, offering Marshall an alternative he couldn’t resist.

“Oh, god,” he breathed against Maksim’s throat.

As if Marshall’s desperation was the cue he’d been waiting for, Marshall found himself staring at the dark couch cushions with no clue how it happened. Maksim massaged Marshall’s ass, teasing him. He heard Maksim rip into a condom. Marshall bit back a whimper. There was something about Maksim. The man possessed something no one else did. He made Marshall want to submit to his every desire. As Maksim pushed his way inside, making Marshall beg for release, Marshall realized something about himself. For the right person, he’d ruin his life. If Maksim ever decided he wanted to be that person, Marshall would give him the world.

* * *

For the fifth time, Marshall buried his face in the crook of Maksim’s neck and inhaled. Each time it happened, Maksim couldn’t hold back his chuckle. He adored moments like this—when Marshall let Maksim hold him.

“Why do you smell different?” Marshall asked, explaining the constant sniffing.

“A salesman shot me with cologne earlier before I could get away.” He tightened his hold on Marshall. “I can’t tell you what it does to me, knowing you can tell the difference—like you’ve memorized my scent.”

Marshall’s lips lightly brushed Maksim’s neck. “You could blindfold me, and I could pick you from a crowd.” Before Maksim had time to pull something stupid—like confess he was falling for Marshall, Marshall changed the subject. “What kind of place sprays innocent people?”

Shopping reminded him of something important. “A high-end department store near my apartment, which reminds me, I’ll be right back,” he said, climbing from the bed. Maksim found his pants in the living room and dashed out to the car. He was back with his bag in hand in a matter of minutes. After returning to the bedroom, Maksim stripped again before unzipping his suitcase. “I didn’t get to see you at Christmas like I hoped.” He pulled a red-wrapped box from his bag and held it out to Marshall. “I didn’t get to give you your gift.”

Marshall sat up and eyed the box. He didn’t reach for it. “You bought me a present?”

Maksim shook the gift at him. “Yes. Open it.”

After another heartbeat, Marshall finally accepted. He pulled the ribbon loose on top, gingerly unwrapping the present as if not wanting to disturb the paper. When he finally opened the box, Maksim held his breath. Marshall’s expression was everything. The man had never looked more shocked.

“Holy shit. Is this really Nate Dyer’s championship ring?”

“Yes,” Maksim said, trying to hold back his smile. He loved making Marshall happy. “He sold it to a pawnshop some years back when he fell on hard times. Since I know he’s your idol, I thought you should have it.”

“Holy shit,” Marshall repeated while still staring at the open box. “Now I’m scared to give you your gift. You’ve blown me away.”

Maksim had thought his night couldn’t get better after witnessing Marshall’s reaction. He was wrong. Learning Marshall had gotten him a present too took his breath away. “You got me a gift?”

Marshall nodded and climbed from the bed. Maksim watched him cross the room with hunger in his gut. After setting the ring on his dresser, Marshall headed for the closet and came out with a gift bag. Marshall handed it over, looking nervous. “It’s not a championship ring.”

“I don’t care if it’s a tin of popcorn. You thought of me. That means more than you’ll ever know.” Maksim dug through the tissue paper. His fingers closed around something hard. Maksim lifted it from the bag. “It’s a hockey puck.” When he looked closer, he realized it was signed. “Wow. Is that Noah Cote’s signature?”

Marshall nodded. “I know someone who knows someone.”

“You must be joking. Noah rarely signs anything. Well, for adults. He signs shit for kids all time. His agent keeps tight tabs on him. This is amazing.”

“Kieran can be a hard ass, but he’s looking out for his clients’ best interests. Like I said, I have a connection. Now you have another autograph to add to your collection.”

Maksim stared at the puck, moved. “How did you know Noah was the only Phoenix autograph I was missing?”

“You mentioned it in passing once.”

Maksim shook his head. He couldn’t believe how amazing Marshall was. That was such a small thing to remember. Sometimes, Marshall made him feel important. Maksim slipped the puck back into the bag and set the bag on the floor before focusing on Marshall once more. “Thank you. That’s easily the best gift I’ve ever received.”

Marshall shifted to his knees and crawled toward Maksim, tumbling Maksim onto his back. He covered Maksim’s body with his. “Let’s see if I can improve on that gift while thanking you for mine,” Marshall taunted. He kissed a path down Maksim’s chest. Maksim closed his eyes and let his emotions take over. Soon, he’d be off to Chicago, leaving Marshall behind once more. This time hurt more than the other times he’d left. In fact, it hurt a little worse every time. Maksim feared that one day in the near future, he wouldn’t have the strength to leave again. What would happen then? Marshall would never publicly claim Maksim, and Maksim couldn’t be a secret forever. One day soon, this would have to end. The problem was, Maksim wasn’t so sure he’d survive the loss.

* * *

May...

Maksim: Can I stop by?

Marshall: You’re in town?

Maksim: Yes, and I’d love to come over.

Marshall: The door’s unlocked.

* * *

Every time Marshall set eyes on Maksim, it was the same. The pressure on his chest, the way his breath caught, and the need to touch him always overwhelmed Marshall. The instant Maksim stepped through the door, Marshall overcame him. Their lips touched without as much as a friendly greeting. They were always immediate passion, burning hot and bright. Once Marshall’s initial burst of possessiveness was assuaged, his kiss lightened, turning sweet. Maksim was really here. Marshall could touch him again. It had only been three days, but it felt closer to a year since the last time he’d seen him.

“Damn,” Marshall cursed when he came up for air. “I’ve missed that.”

Maksim stole another kiss before responding. “Me too. What’s it been? A year? A decade?”

“Close,” Marshall said with a laugh as he backed away, giving Maksim space. “Three days.”

“You lie,” Maksim said, sounding hot as his feet ate up the distance Marshall put between them. He claimed Marshall’s mouth again. There was nothing sweet about Maksim’s kiss. Marshall had no complaints. With one last nip at Marshall’s bottom lip, Maksim finally set him free. Maksim pressed his hand to Marshall’s chest and took a step back, as if forcing himself away. “I’m here on business.”

“Business? Have you decided to start charging for your sexual favors?” Marshall asked, laughing. “The first seven months of free tasting is over, huh? How much are you going to cost me now?”

Maksim’s smile made Marshall’s ridiculousness worthwhile. “It’s nothing like that. If anything, I should be paying you.” Maksim’s expression turned heated once more. “How much do you want? I’d pay any price you asked.”

It was on the tip of Marshall’s tongue to demand exclusiveness from Maksim as his price. He barely stopped himself from allowing the words to fall. Maksim would never meet that price. Instead, Marshall chose to keep his pride. “We can come up with a mutually beneficial deal later. Now,” he said, clapping once. “What business errand are you on?”

“Gavin,” Maksim answered like ripping off a bandage. “New York wants him. They have for a while, and they’re getting desperate. With desperation comes generosity and big bonuses.”

Marshall didn’t hesitate. “No.”

Maksim didn’t let up. “I’ve already spoken with Gavin on three separate occasions, making him offers, but he won’t bite. I need your help.”

“No,” Marshall repeated. “Ask me for anything else that doesn’t involve taking my brother away, and it’s yours.”

“I live in New York, and look at us,” Maksim argued. “It wouldn’t be stealing your brother.”

Marshall knew Maksim really didn’t want Marshall’s opinion about looking at them. They fucked. Maksim had made that abundantly clear. They weren’t a real relationship. Michael was real. Maksim couldn’t have him. Michael was all Marshall had in the world. “He’s more than a brother. Michael is my twin. That’s something you can’t understand unless you’ve had one. I won’t ask him to move away.”

Maksim’s shoulders rose and fell as he sucked in a deep breath. His gaze never wavered from Marshall. “Okay. I’m not saying I’m giving up, but I won’t ask for your help with this again. It’s obvious you’re set against it.”

Now that Marshall had gotten his way, he felt like shit. He knew Maksim was just doing his job, but fuck. It was Michael. “It’s not that I’m against Gavin getting a once-in-a-lifetime deal. I’m against losing the only family I have.”

Maksim’s open confusion made Marshall realize how little Maksim understood about Marshall’s life. “You have more than Michael.”

“Did I hear my name?” Michael asked, appearing in the kitchen doorway. He smiled when he spotted Maksim. “Maksim. It’s good to see you.”

“You as well,” Maksim said, accepting Michael’s hug.

“I feel like I’m seeing a lot of you lately,” Michael said, as if digging for info.

“He’s here to try to enlist my help in luring Gavin to New York,” Marshall said without an ounce of guilt for throwing Maksim under the bus. Plus, he was still pissed over the man trying to steal his brother away.

“I hope you told him to go fuck himself,” Michael said, making Marshall proud. “No offense,” Michael added, flashing Maksim an apologetic smile. “My brother and my job are here in New Orleans. Gavin and I have a life here. That’s why Gavin has already politely declined your offers.”

Maksim held his hands up, showing his defeat. “Apologies. I’m just handling the tasks assigned to me.”

For a moment, Michael eyed Maksim, as if assessing his earnestness. “It’s okay. Anyhow,” Michael said, switching his attention Marshall’s way. “I’m here to grab that stuff from you. The memorabilia that you need Mara to sign for that charity auction,” he clarified. “Mara plans to sign everything today, and then I’ll bring it back by. She sends her apologies that she hasn’t gotten to it sooner. The boys have kept her hopping.”

“No problem. It’s downstairs.” Marshall headed for the stairs. Michael followed, but Maksim didn’t budge. Marshall motioned for him to join them. “You coming?”

Maksim looked unsure of his welcome, but he joined them. Marshall found the box of donations for Michael while Maksim moved to the bookcase and inspected all the pictures lining the shelves.

“I cannot believe how alike you were,” Maksim said, pointing out a picture of Michael and Marshall from their freshman year in high school.

Michael carried the box to the stairs. He eyed the framed picture as he passed. “Yep. Those were the days. If we didn’t open our mouths, no one could tell us apart.”

“Except Gavin,” Marshall tacked on.

Maksim set the photo down. “I forgot he also grew up with you.”

Marshall nodded. “We were inseparable when we were kids. Of course, I realize now he only hung around to be near Michael.”

“I doubt that was the only reason he came around,” Maksim said without looking his way. “Especially if you were as fun back then as you are now.”

Michael laughed. “Marshall hasn’t grown up much, if that’s what you mean.” Without waiting for a response, Michael focused on Marshall. “I’ll back in a little while.”

Marshall tossed his brother a wink. “I’ll be here.” Marshall waited until Michael was out of sight and earshot before focusing on Maksim once more. “So you think I haven’t grown,” he said, pushing up his shirt sleeves and flexing.

Maksim shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Marshall dropped his arms and shrugged. “Probably, but you still keep coming back. So there’s that.”

“Of course I do,” Maksim said, leaning closer to a different framed photo. “As I said, you’re extremely fun. To fuck,” he added, stabbing Marshall through the heart. He turned away before Maksim saw the hurt in his eyes.

“Who are these two extremely upstanding-looking people?” Maksim asked, drawing Marshall’s attention to the framed photo on the bookshelf he’d been inspecting.

Marshall moved to Maksim’s side, but he barely spared the picture a glance. “Those are my parents—Eugene and Helena Frost.”

Maksim toyed with the frame, peering closer at the image. “They look… proper,” he finally said, as if incapable of finding a better term.

Marshall bit back a laugh. He’d seen that photo a million times. Marshall knew there wasn’t a speck of fuzz on their thirty-thousand-dollar suits or a hair out of place. They’d smiled on cue and they were smiles they’d paid thousands to keep perfect. In fact, they’d probably practiced in front of the mirror every day. Proper was the most fitting description he’d ever heard of his parents. “There aren’t two more flawless citizens on the planet.”

“Why do you say that with such disdain?” Maksim asked. He crossed the room and stole a quick kiss before Marshall could answer.

Marshall shrugged. “They’re closer to being proper citizens of the world than they are to being parents.”

“You’ve never said anything, and I’m realizing now I haven’t asked. Are they not accepting of Michael and you?”

A snort escaped Marshall. He didn’t mean for it to come out sounding as derisive as it did, but there was no calling the sound back. “They’d have to see us to be unaccepting of anything. Michael and I are trophy kids.”

Maksim’s eyebrows drew together. “Trophy kids,” he repeated, as if unfamiliar with the term.

Sometimes Marshall forgot Maksim wasn’t always familiar with every American euphemism. “Yeah. You know, you get married, move to suburbia, and have two perfect kids. And we were the most perfect kids of all—twins. Our mom didn’t have to do pregnancy twice. She did her duty, got her tubes tied, and went back to work. Michael and I got the best nanny money could buy until we were twelve and proved we were fine alone.”

“I have a hard time believing your parents don’t love you. You seem too well adjusted for that.”

Marshall shook his head. “I didn’t say they don’t love us. They absolutely adore pulling out pictures of their perfect family to show their colleagues and potential clients. Growing up, I was the accomplished athlete while Michael was on track to be Ivy league—their future lawyer and business partner. Oh, and then Michael turned out gay. Fucking perfection,” Marshall said, kissing the tips of his fingers for maximum obnoxiousness. “That gave them an in with a whole new community of folks. Look at our gay son; we’ll fight for you too.”

“So you don’t see them at all?” Maksim looked confused.

Marshall shrugged. “They send us a card along with a huge check for every major holiday. Michael and I send them an expensive gift via a delivery service on Mother’s day and Father’s day. They get to show everyone their gifts and brag about their attentive and loving sons. We can say we have extremely supportive parents. A win for everyone.”

“How big of a check are we talking?”

A sardonic smile tugged at Marshall’s lips. “My parents aren’t the sole supplier of energy to five major cities, like yours, but I could quit playing football right now and live a comfortable life. If I’m not extravagant and buy an R8, that is.” Marshall honestly wasn’t trying to bash Maksim having a family that drowned him in money. It was all the talk of his absentee parents making him obnoxious. Some things bit deep and turned bitter over time.

“Whoa. I know some lawyers make decent money, but wow.”

Marshall waved off Maksim’s claim. “Oh, my parents aren’t just any lawyers. They own the law practice of the south. Everyone who is anyone uses Frost & Frost. They’re on track to hold office someday. That’s as long as their sons stay the adept and enduring soldiers they’re paid to be. You know: no murders, drugs, or equally embarrassing incidents on our part. We have to stay who we are.”

“The gay son and the athlete?”

“Exactly,” Marshall said, flashing Maksim a bright smile for being the winner of the chicken dinner. “I smile for the cameras. Michael works for the top actress of the day. Oh, and he took home top prize for marrying an openly gay hockey star. We couldn’t be more accomplished if they’d created us from clay, except we’re not flawless, of course.”

Maksim shook his head, as if he couldn’t fathom the life Marshall described. Marshall didn’t know how else to explain the life he led, and he’d already given Maksim more of himself than he’d given anyone else in his life. Sheesh, it was like the man didn’t realize at all that Marshall loved him.

* * *

Maksim stared at Marshall in awe. He couldn’t believe how blasé the man was about being forced into a box that didn’t suit him. The need to push and force Marshall to feel the rage Maksim felt on his behalf wouldn’t subside. Maksim couldn’t stop wanting Marshall to be real for him. “So, you’re what? Throwing yourself on the straight grenade so Michael can be the gay twin?”

Marshall’s nose scrunched up in the adorable way that always hit Maksim in the gut. “What? No. Michael is gay because he’s gay. He doesn’t need my permission or help.”

All the irritation Maksim kept buried bubbled to the surface. “You just said you were trophy children and your parents might run for office—like you each played a role and you were forced into one that doesn’t fit for your parents’ sake.”

Another ugly-sounding snort escaped Marshall. “I doubt they know anything about me beyond what I do for a living. Worrying over my sexuality is a form of concern. They don’t do concern. And, what does my sexuality have to do with anything? You asked about my parents and I answered.”

Maksim shook his head. He didn’t understand why Marshall was so fucking blind. “Then why do you play at being someone you’re not?”

Marshall’s sweet smile almost made Maksim wish he could let this go. Then Marshall opened his mouth. “For the love of the game, of course. I’ve bled football for as long as I can remember. Why would I ruin a dream so few people have come true for five minutes of some dude’s time, especially for some guy who doesn’t do strings?”

Maksim chose to ignore Marshall’s air quotes and obvious jab at him. “There are several openly gay hockey players. We’re talking badass men who no one would dare pick a fight with on the street. It’s not been an issue for them. It wouldn’t be an issue for you.”

An aggravated-sounding growl escaped Marshall. His eyes flashed with irritation. “That’s hockey. Hockey has always prided itself on leading the pack when it comes to inclusion. I don’t play hockey and football isn’t the same. How many openly gay pro-football players do you know?”

Since this was important to Maksim, he took their conversation seriously and answered honestly. “I can think of three off the top of my head.”

Marshall nodded. “Out of those three, how many are starting quarterbacks? Scratch that,” Marshall said with a dismissive wave. “How many of those are starting quarterbacks who only have the position because they held down the sidelines as a second string until the starter got put out for the season? In fact, how many of those players are starters of any kind?”

A sad smile pulled at Maksim‘s lips. With every word Marshall spoke, he knew Marshall would never openly claim him. “I see your point. I guess, I just thought...” Maksim shook his head and didn’t bother finishing. It was pointless.

Marshall’s entire demeanor changed. His face hardened. “We can’t all be you, Mak. Not everyone has a job that tosses us every semi-sexually confused up-and-coming athlete in the business that we can—literally—blow our way through. The rest of us are just trying to get through life with a little something to be proud of. I didn’t change the rules here. You’re the one who said you didn’t do strings, and you didn’t care who I lied to as long as I didn’t lie to you. I’m not lying to you.”

Maksim took a breath. He had changed the rules. Marshall had some right to his anger. “Okay, setting aside the fact that you may as well have called me a whore just then, I’m not asking… fuck.” Maksim ran his fingers through his hair. Honestly, he didn’t know what he was asking. He just didn’t like the way Marshall made him feel sometimes. “I guess I didn’t realize I would feel anything when you pretended for the hundredth time I was here on business when Michael stopped by. It’s Michael, for God’s sake. I didn’t think I’d be a secret to everyone, including your brother.”

Something dark passed over Marshall’s features before his expression turned sad. Maksim wanted to kiss him and make his life easier. “I don’t think you’re a whore,” Marshall said, sounding as sad as he looked. “You have options and freedom. There’s nothing wrong with that. Plus, it’s not like you made me any promises. But I can’t bet my life and reputation on you. I can’t put my heart and career on the line for someone who’s made it clear I’m just a fun time. It was never my intention to hurt you or make you feel invisible. I don’t want to hurt you. Maybe…” Marshall paused and cleared his throat. His face screwed up as if he was in pain. “I think, maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

“You think? Maybe?” Maksim needed more than that from Marshall.

Marshall held his stare. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Maksim drew back. He could beg, but he didn’t know for what. He had been the one to say no strings. He’d been the one who acted like they didn’t matter. Maksim could hardly expect more now. Their conversation had started out so innocently. All Maksim had wanted was to know a little more about Marshall’s life. He’d never intended to make this about his unspoken feelings. In truth, he had no clue how things had gotten to this point.

He nodded while searching for something powerful to say. Something that would take them back to where they’d been before Maksim’s feelings had gotten in the way. Nothing came to mind. “Of course. I mean, I never wanted to...” Maksim had nothing to say that wasn’t a lie. He took a deep breath and pasted on a fake smile. It wasn’t Marshall’s fault he’d gotten attached. “Have a nice life, Marshall Frost. I hope you see your every dream fulfilled.” Without looking back, Maksim headed for the door. He’d known things would end like this. The night he’d met Marshall, he shouldn’t have looked back when the man chased after him. He would’ve looked like a dick, but at least his heart would be intact. Now he’d have to relearn how to be a cold and heartless bastard. He’d have to relearn how to live without Marshall.

* * *

The moment Marshall heard the door close behind Maksim, he lost his shit. Nothing he possessed or could ever own mattered as much as what he’d just lost. His skin itched, crawling with self-hatred. Rage coated his vision. He’d never met a soul he’d been willing to lose everything for before Maksim, but what he’d said was true. Maksim didn’t want strings and Marshall wouldn’t settle for that.

Marshall’s chest heaved, as if he’d run for miles even though he hadn’t moved from the spot where Maksim left him. Anger boiled in his gut, making bile rise in his throat. His arm shot out, connecting with the glass enclosing his trophies. It shattered around him, biting into his skin. With the first blow and damage done, there was no going back. Marshall smashed everything in sight. This was all he had to show for his years on earth. Glass, plastic, and wood. Empty, cold awards. Trophies, just like him. He wanted them all gone. Marshall needed to be a clean slate. A slate someone might actually love.

When there was nothing left to destroy, Marshall calmly sat. He felt... empty. Marshall didn’t kid himself. He loved Maksim. It happened when he wasn’t looking. He hadn’t meant to fall in love. Maksim had told him he didn’t do attachments. Marshall had known from the beginning they’d never be a real couple. They had fun. From their first night together, it had been more to Marshall. He should’ve sent Maksim away a long time ago—saved himself. Saved Maksim. He hated his weak nature. Maksim was proud of the life he’d built. Fuck people’s opinions. He made Marshall want to be the same. But Marshall couldn’t make Maksim love him. He didn’t know how.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew Marshall’s gaze. Michael appeared. He froze halfway down. His gaze swept the room. “Holy shit.” He focused on Marshall. His eyes were huge. “Oh my god, Marsh. What have you done? You’re bleeding,” he gasped, racing down the stairs to hover. He fussed over the open wounds and oozing blood Marshall hadn’t noticed. Physical pain meant nothing. Marshall was numb to it all.

“I cleaned,” Marshall said with a shrug while biting back a burst of hysterical laughter.

Michael’s expression screamed he thought Marshall had snapped.

“Jesus Christ,” Michael muttered, inspecting Marshall’s cuts. He ran back upstairs, returning with a towel. Michael wrapped the material around Marshall’s arm while Marshall stared at his brother’s pinched expression. Michael tried pulling him to his feet. “Let’s go. You need stitches.”

Marshall’s lips twisted. “Nah. Just leave it.”

Michael struck without warning. His palm collided with the side of Marshall’s head. “Stupid fuck. Get up. We’re going to the ER. I don’t know what the fuck happened, and you don’t have to tell me, but you are getting off your ass and into my car. Let’s go.”

Marshall dutifully stood. It’s not like it mattered where he went. Everything was gone. Maksim was gone. The knowledge rocked him on his feet, and he swayed. Michael reached out, steadying him. Marshall focused on his twin for the first time, really seeing him and his concern. Marshall’s eyes filled with tears. Bending at the waist, Marshall set his hands on his knees and sucked air. His head spun. Maksim was really gone. Marshall had sent him away.

“Tell me what to do,” Michael said, rubbing his back and sounding panicked. “Should I call an ambulance?”

“I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. Why did I do that?”

“Who?” Michael asked, justifiably sounding confused.

“Maksim,” Marshall choked out. Even saying the man’s name was like knives in his throat. “Why did I do that?”

Michael kept rubbing his back, as if that was the answer to everything. “Because you’re a man, and a Frost. We fuck things up when our hearts are on the line.” Michael bent and craned his neck, forcing Marshall to meet his stare. “You need stitches. So let’s go get them. Then you’ll find Maksim and fix whatever you’ve done.”

Marshall straightened. “He’s not looking for a relationship.”

Michael led him to the stairs. “Well, he has one whether he wanted it or not. Get your stitches, and then get your man.” Michael stopped at the front door and faced him. “And then you hang on, Marsh. No matter what you think people will say or do. No matter what you think our parents want. You hang on, because you deserve to be happy.” He opened the door and paused. Michael glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, and for God’s sake, stop fucking lying to everyone, including yourself. If you love this guy enough to do this to yourself, then step the fuck up and own it.”

Despite everything raging inside Marshall’s head, a smile tugged at his lips. “I love you, twin.”

“Yeah, well,” Michael said, throwing the door wide, proving how angry he was over Marshall’s stupidity. “I’m not so sure how I feel about you right now.”

Marshall’s smile brightened as he followed Michael to his company car. Since Marshall worked out nonstop, and Michael was a small guy, they didn’t look as much alike any longer, except for their faces. Those would always be identical. Marshall wondered if Michael had figured out that was why Marshall always called him twin. Michael was the person Marshall loved most in the world. He never wanted to lose their connection. If anyone had to see him at his worst, Marshall was glad it was Michael.