Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 82187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
It felt like the world had tilted beneath his feet.
“Vasquez?” Day rasped. “You’re fuckin’ with me, right?”
God looked like he wanted to disappear. “He…he showed me a video, Leo. Of you and that man hugging and shit before you got in his car.”
Day blinked rapidly, trying to keep tears from spilling. “Vasquez.”
God lifted tortured eyes to meet his.
“Am I not supposed to believe what I saw with my own eyes? I saw you… I saw him touching you, kissing you…” His voice broke on the last words, rough as gravel. “Like you needed him…and you were giving him what you weren’t giving me.”
Day’s own anger faltered under the hopelessness in God’s eyes.
“You dumb, stubborn, dumbass.” Day gritted. “Do you honestly think I’d cheat on you? After everything we’ve been through?”
God shook his head, as if defeated.
“You’ve ignored me for months, and you have the balls to break and enter into another man’s house, cause thousands worth of property damage, and then what? Were you going to assault him…commit manslaughter, I mean, what?”
“I wasn’t thinking, Leo. I just—”
“It’s a true saying. ‘You don’t notice what you had until you’ve lost it.’”
God’s eyes widened. “Please…don’t leave me. Fuck, Leo. I’ll do anything. I’ll fuckin turn in my badge tomorrow if that’s what it takes.”
Day’s heart cracked at the vulnerability in those words. He moved closer, kneeling between God’s legs, gripping the arms of the chair.
“You can never lose me,” Day said fiercely. “But you can lose my happiness. And you have been, little by little, every day that you’ve ignored me. I’ve been trying to get you to hear me, and you just keep burying yourself in your work, like I ain’t enough anymore. You act as if my love isn’t enough. Like you can’t be happy unless you’re fighting and shooting.”
God made a sound like a wounded animal, guttural and broken. “That’s not true.”
Day surged forward, straddling God’s lap, gripping his face in both hands.
“Cash, I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting to be seen by my own husband. I’m tired of sharing you with the entire fuckin’ city. Tired of chasing people, tackling men twice my size and getting trapped in burning vehicles. I’m tired of falling down flights of stairs and crashing through windows. Tired of fighting period,” he whispered. “I’m not twenty-five anymore, Cash.”
“I hear you, Leo.”
“Do you? Do you really hear what I’m saying?”
“I think I do.” God wrapped his big arms around his waist. “I’ll do anything you need me to do…anything.”
“I want to believe you.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, you know that. And you’re right…maybe…it is time to scale back.” God scrubbed his hand over his beard. “It’s just, sometimes I feel like, if I’m not getting these drug dealers off the street and protecting this city, then who will?”
Day scoffed. “Maybe the five hundred other sworn narcotics officers in this city, and the two thousand DEA agents.”
God flushed as if he was embarrassed.
Day kissed him.
It started gentle—a light press of his lips, soft and searching. But the taste of salt and bourbon, the sheer relief of feeling God’s mouth against his again, made him groan deep in his chest.
God made a low, helpless sound and kissed him back.
He pulled back just enough to pant against God’s lips. “I’ve missed you so fuckin’ much.”
God buried his face in Day’s neck. “I’m sorry, babe. Fuck. I—”
“Shut up,” Day breathed, grabbing two fistfuls of God’s T-shirt and yanking him closer.
God stood, hauling Day up with him. He locked his legs around God’s waist, his husband’s arms clamping tight around him. He was almost crushing his ribs as he carried him through the house.
Day buried his face in God’s throat, inhaling his familiar scent of a hard day’s work and the last traces of his cologne.
It felt like coming home after months at war.
Upstairs, they fell into the bathroom, clawing at each other’s clothes.
Day peeled off God’s shirt, baring the tattoos and scars he loved so much.
God’s big hands were everywhere as he pushed Day’s jacket off his shoulders, then fumbled with the hem of his shirt.
He caught God’s hands, pressing his forehead to his. “Breathe.”
God choked out a laugh that sounded close to a sob. “Don’t tell me to breathe when I’m feelin’ like this.”
They stumbled into the shower with the water still cold, too impatient to wait for it to heat up.
God crowded him against the tiles, sliding his palms up and down his chest, across his shoulders, and down his back.
Day dropped his head back with a gasp as God washed him. His hands were both rough and gentle. It was as if his husband was trying to scrub the touch of another man’s hands from his skin.
God dragged his tongue over his neck, licking at the flow of water that ran down the column of his throat.