Page 88 of Declan

Chapter 21

Kyler

“Hey,” I said to Royal. “I’m gonna go home.”

“What?” Royal asked, swaying. It’d been a while since I’d seen him drunk. “No. We just got here.”

Actually, we’d been there for about four hours.

The guy Royal was with kissed his neck and gripped his hips.

“I’m tired.” Mentally, at least. The text from Declan had somehow thrown me out of my drunken haze and sobered my ass up. Cleared my head. “You and B can stay. I’ll call for a ride.”

“You sure?” he asked before biting his bottom lip as the guy’s mouth found his earlobe.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later.”

Music thumped in my chest as I weaved through the dancing bodies. I ignored the hands stroking me and the ass grabs. My mind wasn’t in it anymore. That damn Spartan had ruined my good night.

I saw Brysen in one corner as the guy he’d been into earlier licked up and down his neck. The dude was between his legs, grinding his hips forward, and Brysen leaned his head against the wall, smiling as he kneaded the guy’s broad shoulders.

I remembered grabbing Declan’s shoulders. Remembered him kissing my neck as he pumped into my ass.

I need to get out of here.

Everything was suddenly so freaking loud, and it was hard to breathe. Tears stung my eyes. Love was a bitch.

I called an Uber and waited for the driver. The girl showed up about five minutes later, since she’d been in the neighborhood when I put in the order.

“Good night I reckon?” she asked as we rode in her car. It was a fifteen minute drive to the apartment complex.

“I guess.”

I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Once arriving at my apartment, I got out of the car and stumbled to my front door.

I hadn’t responded to Declan’s last text. I didn’t know how to. As hard as we’d worked to keep things casual with us, we’d both been sucker punched by our feelings. I understood he was nervous. Before I’d come out, I’d hated myself, too, and had worried about what people would think of me.

Ironic that the man who’d helped me come to terms with my sexuality was struggling so hard with his.

The apartment was so quiet. Lonely.

I grabbed some Tylenol from the kitchen cabinet and took some for the ache starting in my temple. As I walked down the short hallway, I stripped out of my shirt that reeked of cigarette smoke and tossed it in the dirty clothes hamper before flinging myself on my bed. I was still drunk, but my mind was clear enough to feel the pain I’d tried to drown with alcohol that night.

No matter how many drinks I’d consumed, the ache in my chest had remained.

Grabbing my phone, I read Declan’s last text over and over again.

He cared about me enough to be jealous I was partying with other guys, but he didn’t care enough to do something about it. What an asshole. He was the only guy I wanted to be with, but he was walled off from the idea. All because he felt like being gay was wrong, that it made him disgusting.

If he ever wanted to be happy, he had some major shit to work out with himself. I just hated that he’d dragged me into it. Because now I was in love with him.

As my eyes watered and my chest felt like it was being ripped open, I replied to him.

Me:I fucking hate u.

He didn’t respond.