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Sam blinked. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Just a feeling.”

One that wouldn’t go away.

“I’d better go.” Sam opened the door. “Call me?”

“Sure.” Mark forced a smile as Sam got behind the wheel. He watched as Sam pulled out and got into the line of cars waiting to exit the park.

Mark’s senses told him Sam had just told a lie.

His instinct was to go over to Sam’s car and ask him if he wanted to talk.

Except he already knew what the answer would be.

Stop this.

Stop crushing on a straight guy.

You know what you need to do this weekend? Go to the mainland. To a gay bar. Get laid.

It was a solution, one he’d resorted to plenty of times.

Mark wasn’t sure it would solve anything.

I don’t need a quick fuck.

I need more than that.

Sam went into his flat and closed the door. His phone had buzzed about four times on the way home, and he knew he’d have to face the music some time.

He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on for a final cup of decaf tea. Then he removed his phone from his pocket.

One text from Dad, asking how far he’d got with the latest job. That was okay. Sam could talk to him in the morning.

There were four texts from Rebecca.

Sam took a deep breath and clickedCall. Before he could get a word out, she launched.

“Where have you been?”

“Out.” That was all she was getting.

“You didn’t call me today.”

He frowned. “Was I supposed to? I don’t remember that being part of the bargain.” He regretted the words as soon as he’d uttered them. Being bold was one thing.

Being reckless could steer him into dangerous waters.

Rebecca’s silence set his stomach roiling, and cold fingers inched their way over his skin.

“You’d better remember this.” Her voice was ice. “I know your secret, Sam. And if you want it to stay a secret, you’ll play your part.”

“For how long?” he blurted.

When she didn’t answer, his heart sank.

“Rebecca… I think we can call it a day. Your Dad?—”