She was desperately unhappy. Otherwise, this brief show of normal wouldn’t offer such a frickin’ contrast.
Sure enough, she happened to glance over at him, and instantly, she dropped the victory song and dance, her mask of cold, hard competence slamming down over her features. Turning her back on him, she went over to where Paradise was sitting and fished through a duffel, grabbing a water bottle.
But she didn’t drink. She took out her phone and frowned at the screen.
When John Matthew came over and tapped her on the shoulder, she jumped and fumbled with the cell.
The Brotherhood had recently improved reception in the underground facility, so texts and calls now went through with greater reliability. And that was a blessing and a curse. Sometimes it was good to just be in the zone.
With a shake of the head to John Matthew, she disengaged and headed for the equipment room/PT suite, disappearing behind closed doors.
As the next game was organized and got started, Peyton watched Xhex and Payne go up against Butch and V. But not for long. After about five minutes of play, he got to his feet and started down the opposite flank of the gym…following in Novo’s wake.
—
Saxton barely made it through dessert, and as soon as the parfaits and fruit started to be cleared, he folded his napkin and placed it next to his untouched sweet. After saying good day to those on either side of him, he pushed his chair back and retreated from the table along with a couple of stragglers who were likewise peeling off early: The Brotherhood usually lingered after the final meal of the night, relaxing and talking over coffee, wine, or aperitifs.
Which would feel like two lifetimes and a second-degree burn all over his body at this point—
“Are you really going home in this storm?”
Saxton looked over his shoulder and tried to hide his true reaction. Blay had come up behind him, napkin still in hand, as if the male had hurried from his seat.
Well…damn. It was so hard not to notice how beautiful he was, how kind, how smart and loving, how considerate.
“I shall be fine,” Sax said roughly.
It was hard to put any faith in that, though, especially standing so close to the source of his pain. What he wanted to say? I miss you. I want to hold you. I want to feel that wholeness again, that sense of purpose and—
“The weather is really bad out there.”
Saxton took a deep breath. “It’s the work of a moment to get back downtown.”
Blay frowned. “Downtown? Why would you—sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“I moved about three months ago.”
“Wait, I thought you were at your Frank Lloyd Wright?”
“No. I sold it and bought Rehv’s penthouse at the Commodore.”
Red eyebrows rose high. “And what happened to your Victorian?”
“I sold it, too.”
“You loved that house.”
“And I love my new place.”
“Wow.” Blay smiled after a moment. “Well, you’re moving up in the world.”
“To a higher elevation, certainly.” There was a pause. And then Saxton felt compelled to say, “Your young are doing well.”
Blay glanced back at Qhuinn and the two bouncy chairs that had been brought in from the kitchen. “They’re so much fun. It’s also a lot of work, but between the four of us, we cover it.” The male crossed his arms over his chest, but it was in a relaxed way. “God, I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever.”
