Page 43 of The Swap After Hours

But it was more than that. My feelings for Donovan went well beyond that of a colleague. I cared about what made him happy or what was bothering him. I cared if he was working himself too hard and if he was taking the time to eat. I cared about his mom and the relationship they shared. I cared about Donovan Marshall as a whole, not just my boss or the man who could make me come multiple times in one night. And I was pretty sure he felt the same way about me.

“How was Paris, man?” I practically jumped out of my skin at the sound of Doug’s voice. I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t heard him come out of his bedroom.

“Jesus! You scared me.”

“Sorry. Must be my ninja-like movements.”

“Yeah, you’re real stealthy,” I deadpanned. He gave me a playful shove as we both laughed. My best friend was many things, but graceful wasn’t one of them.

“Seriously, how was your trip? I didn’t even hear you come in last night.”

“Yeah, it was pretty late. That’s why I’m still here. We agreed not to go in until ten to give us more time to sleep. The trip was amazing though and we managed to close the deal on the first day.”

Doug grinned. “That’s awesome. Congratulations! So, what did you do the rest of the time if you finished up that quick?”

“Oh, we did a bit of touring. Saw the Mona Lisa and the Eiffel Tower,” I answered vaguely.

Doug’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Why are you being weird?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You’re just acting strange, and I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.” He grinned suddenly. “Oh my God! You met a French girl, didn’t you? Did you two hook up?”

I looked down as a riot of nerves tumbled around in my belly. It was crazy really. I mean, this was Doug. He was my best friend. He wasn’t going to judge me, and besides, he was gay, so it wasn’t like he would have a problem with me being with a man. Still, the moment felt monumental. It was the first time I would say the words out loud to someone other than Donovan.

Trying to figure out what to say, I fiddled with the tab on my can of soda until it broke off. I tossed it onto the counter then set the can down too, and looked up at him. “Let’s sit down so we can talk.”

I led him over to the living area and sat down on one end of the couch. Doug sat on the other as he chuckled nervously. “Okay, you’re starting to worry me now.” His eyes widened comically. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with her…or she’s pregnant. Oh, shit! You fell in love with a French girl, got her pregnant, and now you’re going to move all the way to Paris and marry her and raise little French babies whose first words will be ‘oui.’ How do you even say uncle in French because that’s what they’ll call me?”

I stared at him in shock, my mouth hanging open. “Um, what the hell? Where did all that come from?”

He shrugged. “You said you wanted to talk.”

“And from that you thought I was going to move away and be a father?” I shrieked.

“Well, what else was I supposed to think?” he asked defensively, folding his arms in front of his chest.

I waved my hands wildly in the air. “Anything! Literally anything else!”

“So, you’re not in love with a French girl?”

“No!”

He had the nerve to look disappointed. “Too bad. That would have been exciting though.”

“This conversation is starting to give me a headache,” I complained, rubbing my fingers over my temples.

“Okay, if it’s not a girl, then what did you want to talk about?”

I lowered my hands and breathed out a sigh. “I’m not sure exactly where to start.”

Doug leaned forward and put a hand on my leg, suddenly very serious. “Hey, it’s me. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know, it’s just that…this is kind of big and might be a bit of a shock.”

His lips quirked. “Maybe it would be easier to rip the Band-Aid off then, just say whatever it is and get it out there.”

I nodded. He was right. “Okay, here goes. I’m not straight.”

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