Page 45 of Out of Control

He huffed.

“Has it been worth it, cutting yourself off from your feelings? Do you like living completely alone? Having no friends who know the real you? How empty a life has that turned out to be?”

Empty?“I have stuff to do with my life. Goals.”

“Great. Your career has blossomed because of your sacrifice. But what aboutyou? I can see the price you’ve paid emotionally. You’ve… dried up inside. You’ve lost some of the spark that made you, well, you.”

Was Drago right? Had he lost a vital piece of himself? He searched inside his heart for an answer. Not that it mattered now. It was, in fact, water under the bridge. He’d lost the past decade of potential relationships, and nothing would bring that time back.

“It feels to me as if part of you has died. I hate seeing you like this, Spencer.”

“I told you. I’m fine.”

“There are degrees of fine. You’re alive, yes. You seem more or less functional. Although it was sloppy of you to leave that hypodermic in your pocket when you fell asleep. Makes me worry about you a little.”

“I’ll say it one more time.I’m. Fine.”

Drago patted him lightly on the cheek, trailing his fingertips down his neck to rest on the pulse at the base of his throat. “You keep telling yourself that, sweet cheeks.”

Dray climbed off him and rose to his feet. His eyes were sad and wise as he stared down. “I’m worried about you.”

Spencer watched Drago retreat into the kitchen and poke his head into the refrigerator. He emerged with a beer, popped the lid off, and tossed it in the plastic trash can beside the stove.

Was Dray right? Was Spencer compromised?

He was willing to admit to being somewhat emotionally deprived. But that didn’t mean he was unfit for operations. He was as good at compartmentalizing his feelings as the next guy.

Yeah, but it was Drago he was talking about here.

Could he compartmentalize all the old feelings for Dray that were bubbling up like hot lava?

He had to find a way. Somehow, he had to find a way. But how in the hell was he supposed to contain a volcano about to blow?

Chapter Nine

DRAGO RETREATEDto the bedroom to take a nap and emerged only after darkness had fallen. Spencer had pulled out more canned food, and an assortment of offerings sat on the kitchen table. Drago scooped up spaghetti and meatballs and shoveled it down, not tasting a bite of it. He was too distracted by Spencer, silent and pensive across the table.

Had he pushed too hard again?

Problem was, Spencer needed a good kick in the pants to reevaluate his life and think about making different choices. Two men from a previous job had just tried to kill him, for crying out loud. It was probably time for him to go into a different line of work.

Of course, if he put it to Spencer that way, the guy would dig in his heels and flatly refuse to leave the military. He would let the job kill him before he would admit defeat.

There had to be another way to lure Spencer away from the SEALs and point him toward something else, if not safer as a career, at least something where he was less likely to be shot in the back.

But damned if Drago knew what it was.

He’d castigated himself long and hard for driving off Spencer the last time, and fear of doing it again made him tense as hell. At least he’d grown up in the past ten years. He knew better than to get carried away now. He was more patient these days, more willing to play the long game.

Whatwashis long game with Spencer, anyway? He knew that he wasn’t looking for a permanent relationship with anyone. Except if Spencer offered that, would he be able to turn it down and walk away?

It wasn’t as if he was going to find another man like Spencer. He knew that for sure. After all, he’d spent the past decade trying. And failing.

“Done eating?” he asked.

A terse nod.

Great.Spencer still wasn’t talking to him.

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