How long for a soul to be claimed? How fast could a brain find belonging in a pair of eyes, the melody of one's voice, their natural scent, their silvery laugh?
"To future Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs!"
Three months. That was all it took for Ben to decide he, on second thought, wanted to be caged.
Three months. That was all it took for Samuel to decide he wanted to be free.
With a glass of sparkling wine high in the air, he toasted to love and prosperity. Behind the crystal, Rivers' smile glimmered white and sincere.
Only two weeks before those lips were on him, savoring the moment Samuel's heart had finally found a keeper. In that instant of contentment, all deeper meanings had slotted into place, like suddenly remembering the definition that had held a crossword incomplete.
As the glasses came down, Rivers winked at him, fast and hot as heat lighting. The bolt hit Samuel's core. He smiled.
Since that night at the beach, he'd waited for his perversion to bring his life to a halt, but nothing had happened—the earth was still spinning, the oceans didn't dry up and the moon orbited a safe distance in the sky. All the self hatred he'd forced on himself for the past decade had dissipated with a kiss. Just like in a fairy tale.
But too many strands hung loose to call it a happy ending and Cheryl clutched most of them. Every conversation, every message, every I love you was a knife to the guts. Not that he had any left at this point or he would stop lying. But how could he not?
The outer and inner worlds existed universes apart.
War and peace.
Was that what the book was about? A cover-up love, a platonic relationship and the burning purgatory the situation unleashed on the main character.
Being friends with Rivers was easy; being just friends killed him. Every stolen touch and every smile, the painful awareness Rivers slept behind that thin wall... Some days it was too hard to bear. But Rivers was wiser and smarter for a reason—those same things that made Samuel's new reality so electrifying could have turned his existence into a living hell.
Why would Rivers put his career and reputation on the line for him, anyway? His heart didn't beat the same way, that was clear—keeping the distance seemed so easy for him.
"Hey, Reid. I'm going to meet a friend. You have a good night." How many friends did Rivers have? Nothing made Samuel special. If anything, their friendship didn't come with future-altering implications.
A hole is a hole. Always good to remember that.
Rivers met his gaze from across the table and his brows twitched in a frown as his lips moved to answer someone's else question.
How long had he been staring?
Samuel looked away and gulped down the sparkling wine that scratched his throat.
Leah stood, smoothing her peach summer dress. "Ladies and gents." She clanked a fork against her glass and the Meat Blanket Grill backyard became quiet. "Ladies and gentlemen." All forty guests turned to her. "First of all, thank you to Jeff for stepping up when I took upon myself to organize an engagement party with ten days' notice and a three-hundred-dollar budget." She raised the flute at her boss. "Without this beautiful space and the food he provided, this wouldn't have been possible."
A clap rose in the sunset air and Jeff bowed his dark, curly head.
The place was average, but Leah had done an excellent job. Cheryl would have loved the pastel tablecloths and fresh lavender of the decorations.

YOU ARE READING
Don't Ask, Don't Tell
RomanceSgt. Samuel Reid has it all- good looks, a perfect girlfriend he's going to marry, and a new exciting career as a Drill Instructor in the USMC. But Samuel Reid also has secrets. What Samuel thinks belongs to the past, will come crushing down when h...