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Wincing, I set off for the stairs to his office. I’m a big enough person to admit I’m jealous. With floor-to-ceiling slanted windows on both sides, and views over the pool and the gym, it’s cool as hell. The door is shut, and I realize he might not even be in. I raise my hand to knock but pause as a sound reaches me.

Frowning, I lean into the door, listening, and after a few seconds, I hear it again. A sob, followed by a sniffle.Fuck.Is he crying in there? Surely not. Doug McMann doesn’t feel human emotions other than rage and douchebaggery. Okay, not an emotion. But still.

Another sob sounds and I close my eyes with a sigh. Every ounce of common sense I have tells me to creep back down the stairs and pretend I didn’t hear a thing. But I never claimed to be clever. In fact, as I try the handle and the door opens, I decide I’m the biggest idiot to ever walk the face of the planet.

The office is dark, with the blinds drawn over both massive windows and Doug’s desk is empty. Maybe I imagined it.

“McMann?” I call out softly.

“Get the fuck out!”

I wince at the harsh shout amidst the darkness. “Are you okay?”

“Get. The. Fuck. Out!”

Ignoring the hammering in my chest, I step into the office, closing the door behind me, cementing my place as the world’s biggest idiot. I inch around the huge desk to find Doug sitting on the floor against one of the legs, his knees pulled up to his chest.

“Hey,” I say. “Are you okay?”

It’s a stupid ass question because he’s obviously not, and he turns and glares at me, his light eyes glinting even in the near dark.

“I told you to get out. How fucking stupid are you?”

Very. Apparently. “I’m not just going to leave you. You’re clearly upset.”

Doug scoffs, swiping at his nose with the back of his hand. “So what? Like you give a shit.”

I take another wary step closer. “Of course, I do.”

“Why?” he all but snarls.

“I don’t know,” I snap. “Because I’m a nice fucking person?”

Doug snorts, burying his face in his arms.

I stand there in his dimly lit office, sure I should turn and leave him to whatever he’s going through, but I don’t. Before I can think better of it, I slump down beside him, keeping an arm’s distance between us. “What happened?”

“None of your fucking business,” he growls into his arms. “Just leave me alone.”

I huff, resting my arms on my knees. “I’m trying to be a nice guy, here.”

“That’s just it, isn’t it?” He turns and scowls at me. “You’re such a nice guy. That’s why everyone fucking likes you. Nice guy Lane who makes out with students in gay bars and stalks his high school sweetheart. You might look like a fucking angel but you’re really just a piece of shit like me. The only difference is, I don’t try and hide it.”

My answering grin is near painful, showing far too many teeth, but I won’t let him see how deep his words have burrowed under my skin. “Aww. You think I look like an angel?”

Doug’s lip curls as he sneers at me. “I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” I chuckle softly. “You just hate that you can’t get to me. I’ve got your number, McMann. You only let people in that can hurt you. Your entire existence is built on self-harm.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, reaching out and grabbing a handful of my polo shirt with such force, I fall sideways and have to put out my hand out to stop myself from smashing into his shoulder. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about me.”

His breath is hot against my face, the only evidence of his tears the slight redness of his eyes. “Yeah, well it’s not for lack of trying. What are you afraid of, McMann? If you let someone in, they’ll see the real you and run screaming?”

His hand pulls the material tighter, pulling me closer, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Who the hell do you think you are? Shut the fuck up.”

“What are you going to do, Doug?” I grit out, our noses bumping. “Punch me again?”

His fingers tighten their grip on my shirt and the material digs into my neck and shoulders; then he hauls me to his mouth.

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