Page 88 of Finley

“And if I don’t go? If I stay?”

Something soft flashed in Brantley’s eyes, but then it was gone and they were hard as flint as he reached around him and unlocked the door. When it was open wide, he looked at Daniel and white-knuckled the handle. Then he said the only words that would’ve ever made him leave.

“I don’t want that…”

“You don’t wantme…in other words.”

Brantley’s jaw ticked, but he remained silent while he staggered back as though he’d been shot through the heart. And as Daniel stood there on Brantley’s threshold, he watched him slowly shut the door with a pained look on his face, severing their connection.

Daniel wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring at the closed door, which felt as impenetrable as iron in that moment. But then, as if his brain had finally caught up with what had just happened, he stepped back up to the door and tried to turn the knob. When it wouldn’t budge, he glared at it, balled his fist, and then pounded on it.

“Brantley!”

There was no answer from inside as he called out again and banged louder.

“Brantley! You can’t do this to us!” he shouted as he rested his forehead on the door.

His blood was rushing around his head, and the vein in his temple pulsed as he tried to calm himself. But it was no use, as his heart hammered inside his chest and his breathing became rapid. Anxiety overwhelmed him as he realized exactly what Brantley was doing. He was pushing him away, shutting him out. And Daniel wasn’t going to let him.

Taking a deep inhale, he banged again, determined to get a reaction from the man he somehow knew was just inside the door. “Let me in!” he called out. “I know you can hear me, Brantley. Let me back in! Let me talk to you about this. We need to talk…”

As he waited for some kind of response, the only sounds were his heavy breathing and the way he would sniff back the tears that were threatening. When it was clear Brantley wasn’t about to unlock the door, he flattened his palm on the wood.

“You can’t do this,” he whispered.

The tears streamed down his face as he slid to the ground with the stupid piece of paper in his hand. He clutched it in a stranglehold as if he could kill it, make it vanish, while his heart broke apart in his chest and he curled up against the door.

“I can’t do this without you,” he said, sobbing, putting his hand on the door. “I don’t want to…”

He must’ve stayed there for hours, until the sun set and his entire body hurt from the pain of it splitting in half. When the night sky settled around him, he somehow got to his feet, looked at the door, and ripped the acceptance letter to pieces before dropping it on the front porch he swore he would never set foot on again.

If Brantley Hayes wanted him gone…

Then he would fucking go.

Chapter 25

BRANTLEY WASN’T SURE how long he sat there on the floor in his hall, but thank God for the door behind him, because he would’ve been lying there if it hadn’t been for that.

He still couldn’t believe that Daniel was gone.

Really gone.

Again.

What the hell had just happened? He had no idea, but the emptiness of his house yawned wide ahead of him when he finally got to his feet and walked through it like a soul lost. And, essentially, that’s what he was. One minute, he’d been driving home, ready to spend the best week of his life with Daniel, and the next…he was gone.

Brantley managed to make it into his bedroom and over to the open window, which he slammed shut with more force than it’d needed. He latched it closed and stood there with his hand over the lock and his eyes shut.

A symbol of sorts.

If he kept it shut and secure, then maybe the young man who’d once snuck through it and into his heart would be locked out.

But it was too late. Who was he kidding? Daniel had already slipped inside him all over again, heart, body, and soul. He’d returned and, in only days, reclaimed him in every way—maybe even more, because Brantley sure as hell didn’t remember this hurting so much the first time around.

Then again, the first time had been his decision. This had not. And maybe that was karma at its best.

He faced the neatly made bed in the center of his room, and never had it seemed so large, so empty, and so lonely. He searched around the room for signs that the past few days had actually happened. That he hadn’t dreamed the entire thing up.