Page 60 of Blindsided

To that, Easton actually laughed, though I could hear the pain in it. “We were young. I want to believe that we could have weathered that storm, but even if we had, would we have weathered everything else life would have thrown at us after that?”

The mood had become heavy and I didn’t want to ruin such a perfect evening, so I changed the subject. “Like your prince?” It wasn’t hard to smile while asking the question. The story Trevor had told me a few days before had been too unbelievable for me to actually be upset by it.

Easton’s head left my cheek and he angled his neck awkwardly to look around my head. “How do you know about that?”

I lifted a shoulder, trying to portray a casual shrug. “Trevor.”

He shook his head. “Brax, that traitor.”

“Wait, did you really date a prince?” I twisted to look at Easton, trying to figure out what parts of the story were true and which were fiction.

“I don’t know if you could really call it dating as much as hooking up when time allowed. We both had very, very different lives that took us to very different places. He couldn’t come out. I didn’t want to live forever in the closet. But it worked at the time.”

My mouth hung open as he spoke. “Holy shit. Which prince?”

Easton squeezed my side. “I wish I could tell you. Even if I could, the odds are you’d have never heard of him. As far as royal families are concerned, his is pretty low on the list. But old traditions die hard and his family would not have taken the news well.”

I wanted to press to figure out who it was. Really, really wanted to press. Except I also understood privacy and not being able to say things. Even if there wasn’t a signed document barring Easton from talking about it, there was the real possibility that he was keeping the name to himself to keep his former fling safe.

“That sucks about his family. I hope he finds happiness someday.”

Easton nodded slowly, his lips turning up in a sad smile. “Yeah. I do too.”

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, my mind drifting lazily from memories of college to the last few months with no real order or direction. Our chance meeting on campus faded to the scene we’d just had. That memory jumped to a frat party we’d attended in college—the only time in my life I’d been blackout drunk. I’d woken up to Easton holding me propped on my side on a bed with a bucket below my head in a dorm room that reeked of stale alcohol and vomit.

He’d loved me through everything, shown me it every day, and I’d left him. Until he’d walked into my office, I hadn’t known what a big part of me I’d lost in the process. He was the only person who had ever been willing to help with the doubt, frustration, and sometimes the pain in my life while making me feel nothing but loved and protected. There was no use trying not to think about the events that had eventually led us to this night. The memories were forcing their way back in, no matter how much I tried to ignore them.

I’d found love on a college campus with a guy from a totally different world than mine. Feelings had become too real and too deep and I’d run in fear, certain nothing in my life could stay perfect. Approaching a decade later, I’d yet to forgive myself for the pain I’d caused us both. For weeks, if not longer, Easton had been not only telling me that he’d forgiven me, he’d also been showing me. Now I had to work on forgiving myself because I still loved the man holding me.

“I love you.”

I startled, wondering for a moment if the words had come from me. When I turned in his arms, I saw Easton’s eyes and the flush in his cheeks and knew I hadn’t been the one who had spoken. A smile spread across my face and I leaned forward to press my lips against his. “I love you too. Never stopped, if I’m being honest.”

Easton placed featherlight kisses on my jaw and lips. “Same.”

“I was sitting here remembering our past and realizing that I might have left you, but I left a part of me in the process too.”

His hum was understanding enough and he didn’t need to elaborate for me. “Have you found yourself yet?”

I chuckled. “I think I’m starting to, at least. It feels a bit foreign at the moment, but it’s coming back.”

“Good.” He nipped my lower lip, sucking longer than necessary and making my still-spent cock twitch. There was a good chance I moaned because when Easton pulled back, he was smiling. “Don’t get any ideas. Our time is almost up in here and we still need to get dressed.”

I looked down where my quilt had fallen over my lap and wondered how I hadn’t noticed I’d been naked all this time. Even Easton had stripped down, the clothes he’d arrived in folded neatly on a table across from the bed.

“Probably a good idea. I think I have to pee anyway.”

“Always the romantic, you are.” With a bit of gentle encouragement, I rolled onto my stomach so Easton could rub cream over my tender backside before finally letting me up and helping me dress in soft sweats I didn’t remember owning and a baggy sweatshirt that smelled like Easton and felt like a warm hug.

He dressed next, throwing clothes on with far less care than when he’d helped me dress, then began packing the bag back up. The last things he placed in it were my quilt and the bag containing the flogger. “Okay, let’s go to the bathroom then get you home before you pass out.”

My body defied me by allowing a large yawn to escape. “By home, you mean your place, right?” Both our homes were sparsely furnished, but Easton’s still felt more like home than mine did.

“Go to your place and fight traffic to get home tomorrow, or go to my place and sleep in and not worry about it? I don’t know, that might be a hard choice.”

I pushed at his shoulder, both of us laughing. “Don’t be an ass.”

He reached over and grabbed a handful of my butt through my pants. “Don’t push it.”

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