Thief of Hearts by K. Evan Coles

Author:K. Evan Coles
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Interracial B/W, Kindle Unlimited
Publisher: Wicked Fingers Press
Published: 2019-02-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

As planned, Mark spent Sunday evening with Alistair. They chatted over their cocktails and Cobb salads, and he thought again about how much he’d miss this camaraderie if things with Alistair were to go bad. Their years of friendship made their interactions a well-choreographed dance, sure and strong and lacking the missteps that could occur between less-familiar lovers. From their first cocktail of the evening to Mark’s name on Alistair’s lips as Mark made him come, Mark knew what to expect from the man at his side, and knew that he’d enjoy it.

But sleep eluded Mark as he lay beside a slumbering Alistair in Alistair’s big, expensive bed. Wired like he’d overindulged on coffee, he stared at the ceiling and his mind went in circles about why his otherwise perfect evening had left him feeling the slightest bit hollow. Something had been missing, something vital and vivid with a husky voice and an uneven smile that promised things Mark hadn’t found anywhere else.

Owen.

Mark’s stomach sank as the thought took hold. Owen had left a six-foot-two empty space in Mark’s evening and—not for the first time—Mark wondered what Owen had got up to since leaving in the predawn hours of Saturday morning.

He’d been on Mark’s mind often, even sneaking past his defenses during the date with Alistair. Mark had reached out to Owen a few times over the weekend, but his messages had gone unanswered. Though he knew Owen sometimes forgot to check his phone while working, Mark suspected something else was at play. Owen’s emotional outburst in bed had caught him off guard, as had the vulnerability Owen had shown in its aftermath. Mark still didn’t know what had set Owen off, but he felt something had changed between them. He just wasn’t sure what that something was.

Monday and then Tuesday passed without word from Owen, while Mark wondered what the fuck was going on. By Wednesday morning, he’d started to wonder if Owen hadn’t simply ghosted, a prospect that troubled Mark far more than he’d have expected.

The idea Owen had moved on rankled. Mark didn’t have the first clue where to file his disappointment if it turned out to be true, either. And knowing Lauren would ask what had happened made his stomach twist as he bought his lunch from a food truck parked near the hospital.

Tucking the bag in the crook of his arm, Mark turned and almost dropped it when he caught sight of Owen standing on the sidewalk not far away, his eyes on Mark and his hands wrapped around the nose of his board, which was propped against his knees.

“Owen!” Mark’s grin faded slightly as he got closer, in part because Owen looked dead on his feet, but also because he was eyeing Mark in a wary kind of way, his brow puckered as if he was parsing out a problem.

After a beat, he gave Mark a small smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark stepped up and drew Owen into an easy, one-armed hug around the board between them and breathed in his spicy, woodsy smell.

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