Page 135 of King of Pain

My fingers trail over one of my favorites; the one of him sitting on our old couch, Guinness curled up in his lap, his head tilted back in laughter. I painted it from the image burned into my brain like a permanent tattoo.

I take a step back, letting my eyes sweep over the couple dozen variations of his face staring back at me. Maybe one day, I’ll work up the courage to show him.

Needing a distraction and deciding I’m hungry, I head to the kitchen and pull out a steak, letting it come to room temperature while I prep the rest. I heat a cast-iron skillet, adding a drizzle of oil, then season the steak generously with salt and pepper.

While it sears, I toss some broccoli in a separate pan with garlic, olive oil, and a pinch of red pepper flakes. I flip the steak, watching the crust form, then lower the heat and add a pat of butter, some fresh thyme, and a smashed garlic clove. Tilting the pan, I baste the steak in the melted butter, letting the aroma fill the kitchen.

Yeah, I picked up a thing or two watching Ant in the kitchen for months. How could Inotwatch him?

It turns out perfect—medium rare, just how I like it. I plate everything and pour myself a glass of wine.

But it’s missing something.

If Ant were here, he’d be in his element—probably making some kind of wild mushroom sauce for the steak, plating it likewe were at a five-star restaurant. Instead of broccoli, he’d have made his risotto he knows I love.

The thought makes me ache.

I miss him so fucking much.

I grab my phone and look at his text from earlier today. He sent it five minutes after I had dropped him my address for tomorrow.

Ant:Right next to my office? Really? You’re going to explain yourself tomorrow, Sullivan.

I chuckle to myself, shaking my head.

He’s bringing Little G by tomorrow.

I’m a bundle of nervous energy, my excitement barely contained. After three years apart, I’ll finally get to spend time with both of them. The thought makes it impossible to sit still. Every nerve in my body is buzzing, anticipation thrumming under my skin like a live wire.

I already know I’m going to need to hit the gym first thing in the morning, if only to burn off some of this energy and keep myself from pacing a hole in the damn floor. Maybe if I exhaust myself enough, time won’t feel like it’s dragging.

But let’s be real—there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to think about anything else.

After cleaning up the kitchen, I settle onto the couch and flip onVision Quest.

The second it starts, my mind drifts to that night—Ant’s excitement, his insistence, the way hewatched me while I experienced it for the first time.

I don’t even make it halfway before the wine kicks in and sleep claims me, thoughts of Ant woven through my dreams.

The rhythmic slap of my sneakers against the pavement keeps me steady as I push through the final city block of my run home from the gym. The morning air is crisp, cooling the sweat slicking my skin as I near my building. My mind should be blank, focused on my breathing—but it’s not. It’s focused onhim.

He’ll be here soon. In my space. I’m done with parking lot conversations.

I’m so wound up I could barely focus at the gym. I powered through a brutal leg workout, did a zillion burpees, and still, it wasn’t enough to shake the nerves rattling in my chest.

I reach my condo building, bypassing the elevator entirely and opting for the stairs instead. I take the stairs two at a time, needing to work off the last bit of jitters before I see them.

Inside, I head straight for the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water and downing half of it in one go. The bottle sweats against my palm as I take a breath, rolling my shoulders.

This shouldn’t feel like the biggest moment of my life.

But it does.

I sigh, peeling off my shirt and tossing it onto a bar stool as I head toward my bedroom. I need a shower before they get—

A knock at the door stops me mid-step.

I frown, grabbing my phone off the counter.10:33 a.m.