Bonded: Book One in the Liminal Space Series

Chapter Thirty-One

*Wyl*

"He must have been held up," Leesie said softly.

"What?"

"In the meeting," she clarified. "Otherwise he'd be here. He did tell you he'd meet you for lunch, right?"

"Yeah," Wyl muttered distractedly, pulling on a flyaway lock of hair. By now he should have been starving. At first he had waited to eat until Robbie joined them, but as time passed anxiety wore away his appetite. What was taking so long?

"It's fine," Jane said around a mouthful of biscuit. She swallowed quickly. "Running late doesn't mean things aren't going well. They knew each other from before, after all, maybe they're just catching up."

"Knew who?" Wyl asked.

"The guy that's overseeing his conduct review," Jane replied. "It's General...fuck, I just can't pronounce that fucking name, but it's his ex's father."

"Whoa." Wyl was taken aback. "I didn't know the guy was a general."

"Robbie's never talked about him to you?" Jane asked. "Weird."

"It's hardly the sort of thing he'd want to discuss at this point," Leesie pointed out placatingly. "He and Garrett stopped seeing each other. There's no reason to bring him or his father up."

Jane grinned. "I know, but I'm a digger. I always want to know everything about the person I'm sleeping with, including their best previous fuck, so I can outdo it. How was Garrett in bed?"

"Jane." Leesie shook her head disparagingly. "You delight in being naughty."

"I'm a foil to your nice," Jane replied. "And this chowder is fucking amazing, by the way, your husband is a genius." She glanced around. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Still in the kitchen, I imagine, overseeing preparations." Leesie glanced at Wyl. "Did the sous chef arrive?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago." Wyl wasn't really concentrating on what was being said. He felt...strange. It was stupid, there was no reason for him to feel strange, but the circumstances of Robbie's review were making him worry.

"So you're off, then," Leesie encouraged. "Why not go and wait for Robbie back at your apartment? It's probably the first place he'll go once he finally gets out, since he's pretty much missed lunch. Come back for the opening, though, we'll hold a table for you two for dinner. Besides, you and T will only irritate each other right now if you stuck around, given how preoccupied you both are." She rolled her eyes a little. "Taylor is an absolute bear when he gets nervous. He wants this restaurant to work out so badly."

"There's no chance it won't," Jane reassured her as she reached for another biscuit. "There's only one other decent place to eat in this entire station, and they don't do spicy. Everything else is room order, and we've all eaten that stuff a million times, they never change the damn menu. It'll be a hit."

Wyl left his friends talking about the opening that evening. He and Robbie were supposed to attend, but it might be better to spend some time alone. He wished he knew what was going on, but he wouldn't call Robbie right now. Technically his lover was on duty, which meant he couldn't take personal calls.

Wyl walked slowly down the hall towards their apartment, thinking about Robbie, worrying about how he was, contemplating what he could do to make him comfortable once he got home. He stopped a few feet away from the door, frowning. Voices? Robbie was already home? Why hadn't he come to meet him?

Curiosity got the better of common sense. He didn't want to intrude if it was the general, but...Wyl crouched down outside the door, very happy that most of the people who lived in this section of the station were working and wouldn't see him acting like a nut job. Wyl's hearing, so much better than a normal person's, stripped away the soundproofing and relayed the conversation inside with perfect clarity.

"—not such a big deal," a languid, relaxed voice was saying. Where had he heard that voice before?

"It matters because he put me on the spot," Robbie replied, sounding annoyed.

"You like being on the spot," the voice teased. "You thrive under pressure, admit it. That's why he wants you for the job, you'd be perfect at it."

"Gare—" Robbie sighed, and Wyl missed the second part of his sentence as a sudden memory swept over him.

Six months ago, while he'd been lying in bed and Robbie had been in the living room, Robbie had called Garrett. Garrett was his ex. That was why the voice was faintly familiar to him. Why the fuck was Robbie talking to him?

"Yes, I reminded him about you," Garrett was saying. "There's no harm in doing you a favor, is there? Don't go all strange and petulant on me just for trying to help you. He did need to be out there anyway, and it could only help his cause to meet with you in person. My father is used to getting what he wants."

Robbie snorted softly with laughter. "You both are. I appreciate the thought. It's just...damn awkward timing, that's all."

"Why? I'd have thought you'd be glad to see this phase of your life pass, especially when you could get back into military operations."

"It isn't that easy. Wyl's going to be here for the next six months at least."

"And you don't want little Wyl to be all on his lonesome?" There was heavy sarcasm in Garrett's voice. "He's not a child, Robbie. If he really loves you, if he wants what's best for you, then he won't begrudge you the chance of a lifetime to get your career back on track. You're not meant to be a marshal, no matter how well you do the grunt work. You're meant to command. I realized it when we were together, and I never tried to stop you from doing what you love.

"So it didn't work out between us in the end." Wyl could almost hear his shrug. "From all you've said, your new man is quite a bit less spoiled than I am. He doesn't need you to hover over him like an anxious mother hen; he can take care of himself for six months. Then bring him to live with you. Simple solution."

There was a long, painful silence. Wyl suddenly pulled back from the door, jerking to his feet like he'd been burned. He became aware that he was panting, flushed and grinding his teeth painfully, leaving his whole jaw clenched. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!