Page 151 of The Husband Game

But there was no one there. Dustin’s office was dark and when Charlie softly called his name, there was no answer.

Starting to wonder if he’d hallucinated the sound, Charlie opened the garage door to peer in. There was Dustin’s SUV parked in his usual spot but then he remembered Dustin had carpooled with Matty.

Hmm, maybe Dustin had gone down to the lower level to swim some laps or sweat it out in the sauna. Sometimes he did that when he was too restless to sleep.

Charlie walked quietly down the stairs, navigating by the dim moonlight filtering in from the wide widows.

The lights were off down there too, the only other illumination coming from the blue glow of the pool.

Charlie jumped when he spotted a figure on a pool lounger, but it was only Dustin, sitting in the dark, head bowed, silent and still.

Charlie walked over, studying his profile, a silhouette in the gloom.

"Hey, are you okay?” Charlie whispered but it seemed as loud as a shot from a gun, cracking through the room.

Dustin didn’t move. “No.”

“Funny, you look so happy,” Charlie joked, hoping to lighten the mood, but the joke fell flat and Dustin didn’t turn his head.

All he did was let out a heavy sigh still staring at his hands.

“I can’t tonight, Charlie. The game was fucking awful, I’ve had a bit to drink, and some so-called fan was being a dick about how the team is doing when we left the bar. I … can’t right now.”

Charlie winced at how defeated Dustin sounded. “Can't what?”

Dustin gave a vague wave. “Just ... all of it. Our banter is normally fun but right now I don't have it in me.”

“Sorry.” Charlie bit his lip, concerned. “Want me to leave you alone?”

Dustin's laugh was humorless. “No. But I can’t ask you to stay.”

“Why not?”

Dustin looked at him then and his smile was so brittle it went straight to Charlie’s heart. “You didn’t ask to deal with this bullshit.”

“What if I offered?” Charlie stepped forward, close enough his knees brushed the side of Dustin’s thigh.

Dustin tipped his head back, looking up at him, and Charlie wished he could see him better. The watery blue glow made it hard to read his expressions.

Dustin was silent for a few breaths but eventually he held out a hand. “That would be nice.”

Charlie settled onto the lounger beside Dustin, brushing his palm across his chest. He still wore his gameday suit, but he’d taken off the jacket and the polished cotton of his shirt was warm and a little rumpled from hours of wear.

Dustin sighed, the tension in his frame softening a little.

Relieved, Charlie pressed his lips to Dustin’s shoulder. Right where he knew a little constellation of freckles were arrayed.

At this point, Charlie knew Dustin’s body almost as well as his own. Knew the scar on his wrist and the slope of his shoulder blades. His lopsided dimples when he smiled big with pure, unadulterated joy.

In some light, his eyes were a deep, warm chestnut brown and in others, they were a shade of rich olive Charlie had never seen before.

Charlie knew what Dustin’s Adam’s apple felt like against his lips and that Dustin cracked his knuckles when he stretched.

Charlie treasured all of those things. They felt like little secrets between the two of them.

Charlie continued to rub slow, soothing circles as he spoke. “You were here for me when I told you about my mom. Please, will you let me be here for you? I want to help.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

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