Page 49 of Rogue Royal
They sipped in silence until Mav said, “It’s difficult for me to talk about this without being reminded of how I felt then. I suppose I still feel that way sometimes. It’s a tough thing to forget about.”
Douglas slid an arm around his shoulder and guided him to the sofa, sitting with his back to the corner of the sofa and allowing Mav to sink next to him. That way, he didn’t have to look at him while he talked if he didn’t want to.
“I was twenty when I had my first boyfriend. Gareth was the same age but larger than life. Complete extrovert, partying whenever possible, but he always managed to get his work done, too. I was so jealous.” Mav huffed a laugh and shook his head, running his finger around the lip of the glass. “I have no concept of how we fit together, but somehow we did. We were together for several years and ended up living together after uni finished.”
Douglas didn’t enjoy listening to Mav’s past relationships, but he assumed there was at least one man he needed to find and beat the crap out of.
Mav sniffed and cleared his throat. “We’d been together for six years when I came home from work to find him in bed with another guy. The guy ran like his ass was on fire, which left me with Gareth.” He exhaled and carried on in a quieter voice, “I remember his words as if they have just happened. ‘What did you expect me to do? You’ve been dangling a life of love and fun in front of me for years, and I kept giving you time to let go, to find your feet, to love me back. I realised you never would.’I don’t know what I did wrong. I loved him. At least, I thought I did. He obviously wasn’t feeling it.”
Douglas put down the glass that he’d been holding, afraid it would shatter in his grip. He did the same for Mav’s glass before gripping him, refusing to push him into eye contact when Douglas knew he felt vulnerable from exposing his past.
“He was wrong. He was using your feelings of inadequacy to cover how much of an asshole he was. No matter what happened in your relationship, he should have talked to you about it, not jumped into bed with someone else. Don’t allow his words to haunt you. They’re not true.”
“Then why did my next boyfriend say nearly the same thing?” Mav pulled out of his embrace and stood, pacing to the windows. “I met Nico when I was twenty-nine. He swept me off my feet, and I fell hard. The words Gareth had thrown at me were always in the back of my mind. I tried to do better, to show Nico I loved him, to encourage nights out and social visits.” He waved his hand. “We were out one night when someone came up to Nico and kissed him. Nico didn’t push him away, and when they parted, the stranger said, ‘I didn’t realise you were coming tonight, sweetheart. I would’ve waited for you.’”
Douglas fisted his hands, wanting to find these two imbeciles and throw them in the Tower. It was an old punishment, but he thought it would fit. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mav continued, “Nico faced me and said, ‘You need to share yourself, Mav, not throw out pieces of a puzzle for someone else to put together.’ Apparently, I can’t open up to anyone.”
Douglas wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Mav again, but he knew how it felt to be raw and exposed. Being held was the last thing the other man needed, but he stepped over and pressed a kiss to Mav’s temple with a whispered, “They don’t know the real you, Mav.”
He wandered to the kitchen, giving Mav some time to get himself together. Waiting was hell on Douglas, especially as he wanted to hold him and square off with Mav’s battles himself. Instead, he added some chips to the fryer and grated some cheese. Comfort food was not the solution, but it was a bandage that would help for now.
“What are you doing?”
Douglas smiled over his shoulder. “Making some supper.”
Mav raised his eyebrows. “It’s two in the morning.”
Douglas shrugged. “There’s never a bad time for supper.”
“What are you making?”
“Cheesy chips.”
Mav stared at him for so long, Douglas turned away when his cheeks heated. He was a bloody BDSM Master, and he was getting embarrassed because he knew he was making Mav’s favourite comfort food.
He cleared his throat. “Do you want to put some music on?”
Douglas jumped when hands slid around his waist and chest and stood still, not wanting to make the wrong move. Mav’s hands stilled on his stomach and over his heart—intentional or not, he closed his eyes in relief. Mav buried his head in Douglas’s back, and Douglas felt the heat from him. He wiped his hands, then covered Mav’s hands, interlocking their fingers and bowing his head.
He bit back the words that wanted to escape. The words his father had assured him wouldn’t be allowed. The words Mav hadn’t encouraged. The words Douglas hadn’t expected.
He was in deep shit.
Breathing deeply, he stayed with Mav in the embrace for as long as he could. Unfortunately, the chips wouldn’t wait. Douglas lifted one of Mav’s hands to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, and pulled away, lifting the basket from the fryer. When he turned to Mav, the man had already disappeared from the kitchen.
Douglas exhaled and refocused on the food, plating the chips and spreading a generous amount of cheese over the top. He carried them into the living room, finding Mav cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, staring at the fireplace with soft instrumental music floating in the air. Focusing on the plates, he put one in front of Mav, the other where he would sit, and dropped to the floor beside the man who was fast becoming more to Douglas than anyone else ever had.
They didn’t speak as they devoured the warm comfort food. Douglas was enjoying the company without feeling the need to fill the silence. It was something he rarely got in his role as the spare heir. Most people seemed tense and uncomfortable if they were not talking, and he found himself on the end of many rambling recitations of childhood stories and events Douglas would’ve been happy not to know.
With Mav, there was a comfort to the silence, a relaxation of needing to speak, to listen, to watch.
And Douglas hadn’t realised how much he’d needed it.
After they’d finished and cleared up, Douglas led Mav to bed. The silence continued as they undressed each other with slow movements, in no hurry. When Mav was naked, Douglas picked him up, lay him in the middle of the bed and slid in beside him. As he pulled the covers over them, he caught Mav’s creased forehead and hid a smile. He wrapped his arms around Mav, pulling him partially over him to allow Douglas to hold him through the night.
As he held his lips to Mav’s head, he felt a wetness on his neck but said nothing, only tightened his arms, his own tears trickling into his hairline.
He had never said and yet heard so many words in the silence before.
