Vaughn had never been this nervous to talk to a guy before. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of his truck and gently rubbed the sore area beneath the bandage on his chest, just over his heart. He rumbled over the gravel section of the farm road that led back to where Bryant was holed up. Sterling had unofficially given him a heads-up that Bryant had gotten home safe a few hours ago.

While he was disappointed Bryant hadn’t rushed over to share his good news, he didn’t let that deter him from going after what he wanted. What he knew, deep down, was the best for them both.

In his mind, Vaughn heard Jake’s ancient advice to him, from when he’d first kicked around the idea of opening a tattoo shop. “You could waste time waiting for the stars to align or you could get out there and start kicking them into place.”

He only hoped that being assertive wouldn’t scare Bryant off again. Fuck if he didn’t miss the nerd. It made sense since Vaughn had probably spent more time with Bryant than all the other guys he’d slept with in his life. He was officially addicted and not ashamed to admit it.

Even to Bryant’s sister, whom he’d poured his heart out to over coffee yesterday, which was why she’d taken pity on him and tipped him off. He owed her a big fat Christmas present, or maybe another tattoo.

With a six-pack of Bryant’s favorite beer in hand, he ambled up to the door, took a deep breath, then knocked. When there was no answer, he banged again, this time louder. He would not be ignored. If Bryant wanted him to go, fine. But Bryant should at least be mature enough to tell him to his face and explain why. Surely he couldn’t still be upset about missing that tiny rain shower. It wouldn’t have been enough to prime the system even if they’d had time to finish the piping that morning, which they hadn’t.

No, Bryant was running scared again. Damn if Vaughn would let another six years go by before he pulled Bryant’s head out of his ass.

He was about to pound his fist on the door when it jerked open.

Good thing he didn’t punch Bryant in the nose by accident. That probably wouldn’t help his case. Caught by surprise, it took him a second to realize something was off. Really wrong. At barely after noon, Bryant was…drunk? His eyes were bloodshot and he reeked of alcohol. Sure, they sometimes had a drink or two, but Vaughn had never seen him like this—out of control and miserable.

“Bryant? Are you okay?”

“You brought me more beer? Awesome.” He slurred as he lunged for the six-pack in Vaughn’s hand, nearly crashing into the door in the process.

“Holy shit.” Vaughn steadied him, then half-carried him into the cottage’s kitchen. “Are you celebrating by yourself?”

“Celebrating? Fuck no.” Bryant plopped into a chair at the table, tipping it precariously before it clunked into place once more.

“Wait…” Vaughn hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bryant wouldn’t pass with flying colors. “Are you saying—?”

“That they didn’t approve my thesis? Yup. I’m not graduating.”

Vaughn’s insides felt like they’d been flash-frozen. “Ever?”

“Who knows?” Bryant shrugged. “Maybe someday. But definitely not next weekend.”

“Oh shit.” Vaughn reached out to hug Bryant, but the other man flinched instead of leaning into his embrace, so he stopped dead then backed off.

Bryant reached for one of the beers on the table between them and used the edge of Sterling’s table to rip the top off before downing half the contents in a single glug. Whoa.

Vaughn was suddenly even more glad he’d come. Bryant shouldn’t be alone like this.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to wait until it rains and then gather the data you need to show them just how fucking lucky this ranch is to have you and your work.” Vaughn bent down slowly until they were eye-to-eye, Bryant’s mouth within kissing range. “I missed you, you know. I’m happy to distract you. And hey, last time it seemed like we brought the rain when we hooked up. Maybe we can do it again.”

Bryant reared back as if Vaughn had hit him instead of hitting on him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. My dick is a terrible decision maker.” Bryant looked away, as if even he didn’t believe the bullshit he was spouting.

Vaughn tried to chalk it up to his intoxication—dumb shit from the mouth of a drunk man—but he knew it was more than that. Bryant was regressing, falling back into his old habits of blaming himself for shit out of his control. Except this time, Vaughn couldn’t help since he was part of the problem.

“Go home, Vaughn. I’m not what you’re looking for.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, then stared out the window at the ranch with unfocused eyes.

It made Vaughn ache and pissed him off at the same time.

“You know what…you’re right. You’re not the man I thought you were.” Vaughn shook his head and turned toward the door. He’d let Sterling and Viho know that Bryant was out here, drinking himself into a blackout, and needed someone to watch over him. Someone other than Vaughn.

Which stung like a motherfucker.

Bryant sobered up enough to ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a fighter. A person who overcomes. A really fucking sharp guy. Or at least I thought you were all of those things. Yet here you are, wallowing over a temporary setback. Letting it blind you to all the good around you. I’m not going to sit here and join your pity party.”

“Good. You weren’t invited anyway.” Bryant shrugged. The glimmer of regret in his glassy eyes made Vaughn try one last ditch maneuver.

“Sucks that I finally broke down and got my first tattoo and now I’m probably going to have to get it lasered off.” He groaned, not exaggerating his remorse at the thought of erasing it. Okay, so he admitted to himself that whether or not Bryant liked the tattoo, and regardless of what he said in anger, he’d never get rid of it, because it—and what it represented—still mattered to him.

Despite having gone off the rails, Bryant—and the brief affair they’d had—had rocked Vaughn’s world. It had changed him indelibly. So his skin should reflect the irreversible changes inside him. No matter what happened, he would carry Bryant and memories of what they’d shared with him always.

“You got a tattoo?”

Vaughn cleared his throat. “Technically, I gave myself one, yes. Would you like to see it?”

It was a dare. Even drunk, Bryant had to know it. He narrowed his eyes and paused long enough that Vaughn thought Bryant would kick him out before caving to his innate curiosity. But he didn’t. “Sure, what the hell?”

Vaughn yanked the neckline of his black T-shirt down and peeled back the bandage there, exposing the skin above his heart to the man who already owned it.

Bryant didn’t make a peep. Didn’t move. Didn’t do….anything at all.

Was he in shock? Vaughn had to admit he hadn’t imagined himself doing something this reckless and permanent…ever, really. Until Bryant.

He’d given himself a tattoo. Which wasn’t as easy as he’d anticipated, given the location. But even if it meant a slightly squiggly line here or there, he hadn’t wanted anyone else to do it. The most meaningful ink had nothing to do with the prettiest. He should know.

“It’s my name,” Bryant finally whispered.

Vaughn nodded.

“On you.”

He nodded again.

“Forever. I mean, unless you…laser…”

And damn it if Vaughn wasn’t starting to get more annoyed. This was in no way how he imagined his big reveal might go. “Is that a problem? No water was harmed in the making of this tattoo, I promise.”

“It’s just really…real.” Bryant rocked onto the back legs of the kitchen chair. “Wow.”

Vaughn felt like a fool. He should have known he would never be good enough for Bryant Compton. He figured that Bryant might cool off after he went back to school and realized that everything was fine. Instead of elevating them both, Vaughn had ended up dragging Bryant down to his level. He’d been kidding himself.

Showing Bryant his heart meant nothing, because it was only a reminder of moments that had ruined his life. Fuck.

Vaughn had to get out of there. Had to figure out what to do when what he needed most wasn’t what was best for the man he loved.

“Goodbye.” Vaughn hated that even now he waited for the slightest hesitation on Bryant’s part. Maybe he would call Vaughn back. Maybe he would say it was all some terrible joke. Maybe he would decide love mattered more than anything else.

He didn’t. Instead Bryant whispered, “Have a nice life.”