Page 51 of On the Edge

“And that’s your only concern?” I gave him the most pointed look I could muster.

“Well, obviously, I don’t want to get hurt again.” He exhaled hard. I continued to stare him down, waiting. “And obviously, I don’t want to leave you. But I’m a rider. Hell, I’m a star. This is what I was born to do.”

“No one’s denying you’re good at racing.” My tone was just this side of snappish and my French toast was long forgotten. “And I’m glad to know you’ll miss me. I’llobviouslymiss you too.”

“Even if I race the season, that doesn’t have to be the end of us.” Declan’s tone was earnest and, if I were honest, not unexpected. He had a good heart, and for all his flawed logic, he wasn’t an asshole. He might be walking away, but I didn’t doubt he was taking some real feelings with him. “I can visit. Maybe you can get some time off, and we can meet near one of the tracks.”

“Declan. I’m over forty.” I used my most patient voice. “I’ve been out a lot of years now. I’m too old to be someone’s secret sidepiece.”

Frowning, he held up a hand. “I’m not saying I’ll never come out. Give me time.”

“You think you’re the first closeted guy to ask for some indeterminate amount of time?”

“No.” His shoulders slumped, and he rested his elbows on the counter. “And okay, I get why you wouldn’t trust me about coming out eventually. However, I’m not ready to lose you. I…”

My breath caught, waiting to see if he’d say it. But he shook his head.

“You’re my best friend. The best friend I’ve ever had. Don’t take that away from me simply because I have to go back to work.”

God, he made a compelling case, one I was hard-pressed to deny.

“I’m not ready to lose you either. And I’m definitely not ready to watch you be hauled off the track with another injury, knowing I can’t even go to you.”

“It wouldn’t be forever.”

“I know.” And I also knew we meant two different things there.

“And you might not even miss me that much, what with all the hours you’ve been pulling lately.”

“I’ll miss you.” I gave up my attempts to stay detached. His dig hurt because it was true. I’d known since Valentine’s that our time together was growing shorter, yet I’d continued going about my life as if it weren’t about to crumble. “You have no idea how much I’m going to miss you.”

“I don’t like this.” Stubborn tilt to his chin, Declan grabbed my hand. “I don’t want either of us miserable.”

“You have to go.” I squeezed his hand. I could do this. I could be brave for us both.

“I do.” Declan clung to my hand like he was dangling off a cliff. “Look, I know I’m being unfair and selfish by asking for time. Hell, I don’t want to go if this is it, if it costs me you.”

“I’m not going to hold you hostage here, and I’m not going to send you off with an ultimatum that you have to come out.” I might want to. I really, really wanted to. But neither of those options would get me what I truly wanted, which was Declan in my life. “But I am realistic about what this means for us and what the future holds.”

“Do we have to be realistic right this minute?” Declan used our linked hands to pull me closer until our knees brushed. He held my gaze for several long seconds, ample time for me to pull away from the soft, sweet kiss he offered.

“No.” I kissed him back. Next week would come whether I kissed him or not. The way I saw it, I might as well store up all the wonderful things I felt in his presence while I had him.

“Can I come downstairs with you if I set an alarm to be back in my bed before the house wakes up?”

“I’ve told you. I can’t say no to you.” I kissed the top of his head before standing and offering him a hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey. It’s okay. Not your fault you’re so persuasive.” I forced a smile. And it wasn’t his fault. I’d known from the beginningthat this was the only logical outcome, but when it came to Declan, my heart was anything but logical.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Declan

The dry Arizona heat greeted me on the short walk from the circle drive where our team manager, Brian, had dropped me off at the front doors of the medical complex. Neither Brian nor Joey were coming to my appointment. The concussion protocol was serious business, and while the team might have found this specialist, they couldn’t afford any suspicion that they’d influenced her findings.

Thus, I was alone as I made my way through the newer facility, which was large and sunny, with an open waiting area serving multiple specialists. After all the winter months spent with my various mobility aids, I felt practically naked in only sneakers, shorts, and a T-shirt.

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