Chapter Ten
Bryan’s phone rang. Again. He ignored it. Again. He went to the radio and turned it up, then got back under the car he was working on, losing himself in the work. He ignored the pain in his belly, and the one in his heart, and threw himself into work.
The first time it had rung, his boss had given him the evil eye. It wasn’t even like he wanted to talk to Deke. He was still mad. He didn’t know if he was ever going to stop being mad. He certainly wasn’t letting that crazy fucker back in.
The boss’s head appeared suddenly, down next to him in the pit, Bryan’s phone in his hand. “You take a week off, come back looking like hell and your phone is ringing nonstop. Get your fucking act together, or you know where the door is.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He held down the button to turn the phone off, and told himself off. This wasn’t professional. “It’ll stay off during work hours.”
“See that it does.” The boss glared for another moment before heading back to the paper-laden desk in the back.
Bryan knew the guy was trying to run his business. He was right, too. Bryan had to get his act together and get over Deke already. It would have been easier if he wasn’t so angry and confused about their break-up.
Still, he put his head down and did his job, trying to push everything out of his mind except for the beat of the music and the engine in front of him.
* * *
Deke knew he was in trouble when a successful rescue his second morning back couldn’t lift him out of the doldrums. When the ocean wasn’t enough, that was a huge sign.
Bryan wouldn’t take his calls. What if he never did? Deke wasn’t sure either of them could survive that. Okay, so he had resorted to hyperbole. Of course they would survive it. Final steps had not been taken, yadda yadda yadda. So how come it hurt so much?
He reminded himself that Mark had survived when his soul mate had been stolen from him. Deke couldn’t imagine how much that still hurt, given how hard this was and all he’d done was meet his.
He had to make it through two more days before his appointment with the brass to talk about taking his overtime as soon as possible. It took everything he had not to storm in there and demand they hear—and grant—his request now.
His fellow sailors were all giving him a wide berth, which was for the best—he didn’t think he could find it in him to be civil right now. He went out to the ocean and sat on the sand, staring out at the water.
* * *
Bryan stumbled between work and his bed, waving Shae off with an “I’m fine, go back to your man” whenever he saw him.
It was getting harder to get up out of bed to go to work. And he was making all sorts of mistakes once he was there, his focus shot, his thoughts continuously returning back to Deke. He’d blocked the man’s number so he couldn’t see the texts or missed calls, so he wouldn’t be tempted to read them or listen to the voicemails. Deke was crazy and he was better off without him.
The boss was increasingly impatient with him, the stupid mistakes, the dropped tools, the botched fixes. They were building into a pattern of incompetence and he should be worried he was going to lose his job, but somehow, no matter how important he told himself it was, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. He felt like he was putting in time.
He had to convince his heart to stop hurting, that Deke was immanently get-overable. Then he’d be fine.
* * *
Deke stormed out of the commander’s office and headed for the water, stomping all the way. They weren’t going to grant him his leave and had laid on the guilt when he’d told them the alternative was his resignation. They claimed they couldn’t afford to have him gone, so while they were happy to issue him a check for the overtime, they wouldn’t let him have the time off. They’d refused the resignation, telling him to sit on it for a few weeks before making that decision.
He stripped, leaving his clothes on the shore, and dove into the water, swimming out. As soon as he’d gone far enough, he took on his dragon and flew into the water, sinking into its depths.
It didn’t make this any easier. There was a hole inside him. A Bryan-shaped hole, and he knew the only thing that would fix it was being with Bryan. Crazy as it was, they were already this close, this needful of each other. It surprised him they were already so wound up in each other. After all, he hadn’t started the bonding, hadn’t left his seed inside Bryan’s body.
Then it hit him. Goddess, he had. How many times had Bryan sucked him off and swallowed him down? He was an idiot, but it had never occurred to him that might trigger things the same as leaving his seed inside Bryan when they made love would. He’d initiated the bond without even realizing it. What an idiot he’d been.
He would have to go and try to make Bryan understand that he wasn’t an asshole, that the things he’d said were the truth, that they needed each other. He was a dragon, Bryan was his mate. That was all that mattered.
He’d officially put his resignation in tomorrow and it didn’t matter what they said; he and Bryan both needed this. For now he flew through the water, buoyed by the knowledge that the bond was already forming. As much pain as it was giving him now, it was still a good thing.
* * *
Bryan finished the plate of pork chops he’d found on his kitchen table when he got back from work. He didn’t even warm them up, just wolfed them down like he hadn’t eaten in days. Maybe because he hadn’t. Wait—there’d been a plate on his kitchen table every night that he’d come home from work this week. Steaks, a whole chicken, pig like tonight.
Every night he thought about texting Shae and telling Shae that it wasn’t necessary. He wasn’t hungry and his stomach hurt. But every night he’d sit down and eat whatever was on the plate before crawling off to bed to try to jack off.
He was so fucking horny, but he couldn’t get off, no matter what he tried. It was crazy. He didn’t even feel good, but his cock was still hard, his balls desperate for him to come.
It was no use tonight, either, and he turned over, curling up around his poor cock, refusing to admit that there might be tears leaking from his eyes.