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“No, you weren’t. And you know what, Beau? I get it.” Archie’s voice shook. “I didn’t understand what you were going through. I didn’t appreciate how difficult everything was for you. You said you were fine and I went with that. I wanted to believe it. I should have been there for you. I should have realized— But for Christ’s sake, I was a kid, too. It’s not like I had any experience. I didn’t have my mom and dad. I couldn’t talk to John about us. You wouldn’t have wanted me to talk to John. You know who I talked to? You. You were the person I turned to. Talked to. About everything. And you weren’t talking to me anymore!”

Beau heard him out in startled silence. His face twisted and he reached for Archie, pulling him into a rough hug. “Jesus, A. I was teasing you, that’s all.”

Archie, rigid with anger and hurt, resisted, almost lost his balance, but then, abruptly, he gave up, gave into what he’d secretly longed for. For so long he’d wanted this, wanted Beau. Beau and nobody else.

Beau’s arms locked around him, and Archie leaned into him, instinctively adjusting to that particular body, that particular embrace. Ten years and it was uncannily, excruciatingly familiar. It made his eyes sting, and his breath shudder in his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Beau’s breath was warm against Archie’s ear.

Archie didn’t move. Didn’t speak. It had been a lifetime since he had hugged another person like this. Shared this cradle of arms and shoulders and chest; heartbeats and breathing finding quiet rhythm in togetherness. Beau smelled comfortingly familiar, the same shampoo, the same aftershave, the same laundry detergent—though now there was the underlying scent of gun oil and leather.

Neither said anything; the night sounds filled in the silence. A car passed by. A dog barked a couple of streets over.

Beau’s arms tightened and then relaxed. He said softly, “Listen. I did blame you.” He drew in a hard, sharp breath. “For things you couldn’t change. Things you couldn’t even know. Things I didn’t understand. It wasn’t fair. I was having a hard time and I wanted you to prove… I wanted proof that I mattered. To you.”

“Beau. Christ.” Archie could feel the hard raised edges of Beau’s badge through the soft cotton of his T-shirt. Feel Beau’s holstered sidearm against his hip. The softness of Beau’s hair brushed his face.

“Let me say this.” Beau’s voice was muffled. “I should have said it a long time ago. You were always honest about what you wanted and what your plans were. It was practically the first thing I knew about you: you were leaving Twinkleton and joining the FBI. But because you…became important to me, I just assumed it was the same for you. And that your plans would change.”

Archie raised his head. Stared into Beau’s long-lashed eyes. “It was the same for me,” he protested. “But it wasn’t fair to expect me to give up everything I was working for. And you never asked.”

“How the hell could I ask that? Even back then I knew it wasn’t right.”

No, it wouldn’t have been right. Or fair. It would have been a terrible thing to do. But even so, Archie felt guilty that he hadn’t been able to make that sacrifice.

He said with painful honesty, “I didn’t think I’d have to. I thought we’d figure it out together.”

Beau’s eyes were dark with regret. “I don’t know, maybe if we’d been older? And a hell of a lot wiser. Maybe we’d have managed. What I do know and what I’ve known for a long time, is…” He drew a breath. “I wasn’t fair to you. And afterwards, I wasn’t honest with myself. Because I didn’t want to face the fact that I did blow it all up. Me. I ended it. I was so angry, so afraid…that I ended up causing the exact thing I was afraid of.”

Archie closed his eyes. He’d waited so long for this, for some explanation, apology, acknowledgement that he had not been the only one responsible for everything that happened between them, that he also had been wronged.

“I…got used to blaming you.” Beau’s voice resonated; Archie could feel those halting words in his own chest. “It was easier, more comfortable than admitting I’d fucked up. Me.” Beau sighed. “And then when I finally got around to facing the fact you weren’t the reason everything went wrong between us, I got outraged all over again because you didn’t pick up the minute I got around to phoning you.”

Archie shook his head.

The first time Beau had phoned, John had already warned him that Beau was getting married. It had been hard enough to hear from John. No way could Archie bear to hear it from Beau. The second time Beau phoned had been before their class reunion, and Archie had assumed Beau, already married and a father, wanted to know what his plans were so he could prepare for an unwelcome visit from his past. Again, not something Archie had felt up to hearing. Not from Beau.

What would have—could have—happened if he’d had the guts to pick up the phone?

Neither spoke. They held each other, breathing quietly, heart-to-heart.

“I’m sorry,” Beau whispered again.

Archie answered, equally quiet, “Me too.”

This did mean something. Understanding what had happened, and why, was important. Validation was important. Having the opportunity to explain, express regret, even forgive, it was all important. But it didn’t change the fact that Archie had lost someone he loved with all his heart, lost one of the most significant relationships in his life—along with everything that could have been. That until this moment he had felt unable to move on.

And honestly? He still wasn’t sure he could ever—

It was just so fucking sad.

He shook his head, started to step back, but Beau’s hands clenched on fistfuls of his T-shirt, and instead of turning away, Archie’s fingers dug into Beau’s muscular shoulders. They pulled each other into a rough and clumsy kiss.

Not gentle. Not tender. Not elegant.

Hot and desperate. Water to a man dying of thirst, fire to a man dying of cold.

They bumped noses before their mouths landed, slightly off mark, bumped foreheads, too, as they adjusted instinctively. Beau laughed unsteadily, muttered, “I’ve got the old map,” pressed his mouth insistently, urgently to Archie’s, and Archie opened to that kiss, meeting heat with heat, hunger with hunger. His lips tingled, stung a little.