Page 25 of Boy Issues

“That’s really what you think?” Silver shook his head. “I can’t imagine why such a successful and handsome man, especially one who comes off so full of himself, would truly believe that.”

Silver was sinking deeper into the clutches of his curiosity about Donovan, the trap of hoping something honest and lovable lurking beneath the surface of such a shallow man. The answer had to be in his childhood or related to his family somehow. But was he a lost cause?

Silver’s gut clenched. He didn’t need to know, didn’t need to entertain the idea of caring for such a broken man.

But isn’t that the point?

To be the one who helped guide and care for a boy was what he’d been searching for since he’d been of an age to understand his true nature. His first lover had needed him that way and Silver had reveled in the dynamic between them. After Danny had moved away, Silver had learned the truth of what being a Papi meant when he’d stumbled into a BDSM club one night. The ensuing revelation that had unfolded once he’d might the right people to guide him, had forever changed his life.

But Donovan couldn’t be that boy. He wasn’t at all like Silver had imagined his dream boy would be. The age wasn’t the issue, but Donovan’s character was.

Unless there’s much more beneath his carefully constructed façade.

Donovan still hadn’t responded to him, but had remained still with his head hung low. Silver bit the inside of his cheek. He had a feeling he might regret what he was considering doing.

Silver continued to take care of Donovan’s cuts while pondering how to proceed. “Tell me what happened. Was this the result of what I warned you about?”

Donovan glanced up, his expression somewhat dazed as if he’d been lost in melancholy thoughts. “This is a genuine question, Silver. I promise. What did you warn me about exactly?”

For once, Silver didn’t find Donovan’s response annoying. He detected the sincerity.

“About approaching straight men?” He arched his eyebrows.

“Oh!” Donovan shook his head then winced, his fingertips skimming over the haphazard bandage on his forehead that Silver hadn’t gotten tot. “No, it wasn’t that. I crashed my car, uh, not the Benz of course. I was at the track racing.”

“You what?” Silver let out an angry growl. “I don’t know enough about your skills as a driver to comment, so I’ll let that go since I understand the desire to race. And I hope to God there wasn’t any liquor involved. But which track did you come from? No matter where you were, you would’ve had to travel at least eighty miles to get here. I doubt the Speedway was letting you tear around.” He waved a hand at Donovan. “And in that condition.”

Donovan regarded him with a hangdog expression. “Willow Springs.”

Silver scrubbed his face with one hand as he willed himself to calm down. “Never again, Donovan. Don’t ever do that again.”

“You’re very bossy.”

Donovan’s mouth quirked in a smile, and Silver found himself being drawn further in to the spiderweb of Donovan’s world.

Silver grunted. “You don’t know the half of it.”

As he readied to work on the next wound, Donovan spoke up.

“I’d like to know more. That is, if you give me the chance.”

Silver darted his eyes to Donovan’s as he removed the bandage on Donovan’s forehead. Donovan regarded Silver with a hopeful expression. The snark he associated with Donovan still hadn’t resurfaced, either. Now Silver truly was intrigued.

“We’ll see.”

Donovan hissed as Silver swiped an antiseptic pad over the larger of the two injuries. The cut probably could’ve used a stitch or two, but the blood had already clotted. Silver determined a butterfly bandage would be a better choice than the one he’d originally selected.

“Ow, dammit!” Donovan jerked back his head. “A warning would’ve been good.”

Silver beckoned him closer with one hand. “All right then. That hurt and so will this.”

Donovan rolled his eyes and Silver narrowed his.

Without further comment, Donovan presented his brow again. “How bad is it?”

“Well…” Silver finished with the wipe then opened a butterfly bandage. “Whoever patched you up did a shitty job.”

“In keeping with your opinion of me, the shittiness was of my doing.”

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