Less than a month away before Devon and Hunter are here!
Here's a little snippet from YOURS ALL ALONG:
Devon turned onto the mostly deserted city streets and headed toward the on ramp for the highway. Music played low in the background, but Hunter couldn’t focus on anything besides the fact that he was in Dallas in a car with Devon after all this time. How many times had they ridden just like this, laughing about things, giving each other shit, or singing along to the radio? An old ache opened up in his chest—one where friendship and comfort and other warm things used to reside. He rubbed the spot with the heel of his hand.
Devon peered over, expression shuttered. “So, you going to tell me why you’re here?”
“I told you. My fiancée sent me out here to take a vacation.”
“Not why you’re in Dallas, Hunt, why you were in my bar.”
A thousand answers jumped to his lips. Because I needed to see you. Because I’ve missed you. Because I couldn’t not. “I need a best man for my wedding, and Macy thought you’d be a good choice.”
A bitter laugh burst out of Devon at that. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Hunter turned away, staring out the windows as the car picked up speed and merged onto the highway. He imagined the vehicles whizzing by crashing into each other and piling up. He still had nightmares that looked like that.
“You’re serious? The girl you’re marrying wanted you to come find me to be your best man?”
He swallowed past the tightness in his throat. “She heard we were close.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Devon muttered.
“She doesn’t know that stuff.” He shifted in his seat. “No one does.”
“I’m surprised you’re even admitting there was stuff. I figured all of that would’ve been obliterated in that convenient memory loss the accident caused.”
Memory loss? Hunter wished. “I didn’t forget.”
Dev’s jaw twitched. “So you’re telling me you came all the way out here after four years of not speaking to me to ask me to be in your wedding? That’s bullshit. And if it’s not bullshit, then you’re an even bigger asshole than I thought.”
“I don’t want you to be in my goddamned wedding. I just—I was here. I thought I’d come to see you.” He hated the way his voice sounded—seeking, defensive.
Devon’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel, restrained anger evident in each curl of his hand. “Is this like the AA thing where you go say sorry to everyone you pissed off before you move forward? Tie up everything in neat bows before you walk down the aisle and into happily every after?”
“What? No.” He took off his cap and raked a hand through his hair.
“Or maybe you just need one more time with a guy before the big day just to make sure any of those rogue gay urges are fully out of your system.”
He stiffened at the stinging tone and suggestion. “No, I—fuck, never mind.” He slouched in his too small seat, pulling his hat low over his eyes, and glared out the window. “Just get me to the resort. I shouldn’t have shown up tonight. This was a mistake.”
“Heh.” Devon sniffed. “You seem to make those a lot around me. Guess some things haven’t changed.”
Hunter leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, remembering the last time he’d uttered that same phrase. No, some things hadn’t changed.
Everything had. All in one night.
And nothing had been the same since.
Who's ready? :)
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