Making It Read online

  “Oh.” He liked steak, but it was more of a treat than a regular thing.

  When he looked up, Devan was actually smiling. “You never did get the French accent thing right.”

  “You’d think after living in Montreal for a while I would have picked it up.” The second the words left his mouth, Eli regretted them. No sense hiding from what he’d done. “The Quebec fighters made fun of my accent all the time.”

  Devan’s smile faltered. “Why did you go there? I mean, to train?”

  “It’s the best facility in Canada. One of the best in the world, actually.” There were two ways Eli could handle this: he could pretend that him being an utter asshole and leaving Devan hadn’t happened, or he could face up to what he’d done. Despite everything, Eli still cared about Devan and knew he owed him the truth. “Would you like to hear about it, or talk about something else?”

  It was clear Devan didn’t know how to go forward any better than he did. Setting his menu down, he finally met Eli’s gaze. “Yeah, I think I would.”

  The muscles in his neck and back relaxed. “I’ll be sure to leave out the gory bits.”

  “I work with blood on a daily basis. I laugh in the face of gory bits. Hahahahaha.” The fake laugh brought a small smile to Eli’s face.

  The tension bled from the air around them as Eli shared some of the pieces of his life in Montreal. He paused only long enough for them to order drinks and their meals: steak frites for him and sweet potato lasagna for Devan.

  Devan asked the occasional question here and there, but mostly let Eli talk. That was the one thing about him Eli had always been amazed by. Devan was one of the few people he’d ever met who could get him talking. There’d never been any pressure to be anyone other than who he was, unlike with the guys at the gym, or with his fans. He wasn’t Eli McGovern, in-the-closet MMA fighter, potential champion. He didn’t need to know how to say steak frites properly, or worry about making sure his socks matched.

  He could simply be Eli, fatherless guy whose mom had never quite accepted he was gay.

  It was weird how he hadn’t realized how hard it had been on him to keep up the tough-guy persona.

  “So they took me to a strip club on Saint Catherine Street for my birthday, a female strip club. The guys were pooling their money and got me this crazy lap dance in a private room.” Eli shook his head as Devan laughed loudly. “I’m in this scummy little room with this sweet girl, and I had to tell her that I was gay. Instead of getting her vagina in my face, we talked about the university program she was taking at McGill.”

  Devan had tears in his eyes he was laughing so hard. “Oh my God, I can totally picture that. Was she upset?”

  “Not even a little. Apparently, they don’t get a lot of breaks, so she appreciated the rest.”

  “I can’t believe that happened to you.”

  “The problem of not being officially out.” That had been the one thing he’d always hated about being a fighter. Stephan had insisted, made continuous comments about it, that if Eli were gay—and I’m not saying that you are, but if it’s the case—to not mention it.

  By the time their food arrived, Eli realized he’d been doing the majority of the talking. “So what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  From the flash of guilt on Devan’s face, Eli realized he’d been keeping him talking so he wouldn’t have to share anything. Eli deserved that treatment, but it wouldn’t sate his curiosity. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about Matthew?”

  It was the one thing he’d wanted to know, but he’d been more than a little scared that Devan would get up and walk away rather than give him the answers he hoped for.

  Devan stopped eating and began to push the food around his plate. It was one of his nervous ticks, something Eli hadn’t seen since the early days of their relationship. “I don’t know what you want to know.”

  This was the part of their relationship that he’d always sucked at. Eli wasn’t good with people, never had been. He’d come to rely on Devan to help with small talk, the right questions to ask to make someone feel important, special. So Eli asked the one question that had been turning over in his mind since he’d first laid eyes on Matthew. “Tell me about the day he was born.”

  For a moment, he wasn’t sure Devan was going to give him that, to grant him the privilege of peeking into the life that he could have had. He had no right to push, no matter how desperately he wanted to. But as Eli took his next bite of food, Devan put down his fork and picked up his wineglass.

  “It was raining.”

  Eli swallowed, put his own fork down and did his best to hear everything Devan said, spoken or otherwise.

  “Meg was past due, and we’d planned to have her induced the next day. It was a pretty warm day for December, and she’d been having a hard time doing anything. Matthew thought it would be fun to give up the wait at the worst possible time.” Devan chuckled and sipped his wine. “Meg and Josh were at the movies. I don’t know what they’d gone to see, something bad, knowing their preferences. She’d been craving movie theatre popcorn, and Josh had learned pretty early on not to argue with her when a craving hit. Her water broke right in the middle of the film.”

  Knowing Meg, she’d probably laughed at the irony of the situation. She was pretty awesome like that. “I hope she got to finish her popcorn?”

  “Took it with her into the maternity room.” Devan laughed. “So I got a call from them at ten thirty at night telling me to get my ass to the hospital. I was so freaked out that I nearly forgot the baby bag. By the time I caught a cab and made it to the hospital, she was well into labor. I had to sit and wait with Josh.”

  Eli hadn’t known Meg’s husband very long before he’d left. They’d only been married a short time, and Josh wasn’t exactly the type of guy Eli would hang out with. “He must have thought the whole thing was weird.”

  “Not really. Well, Josh really isn’t into kids. I think he saw this as a win-win for him. Meg got to be a part of a child’s life, but they didn’t have any of the responsibility. Well, unless I die. They will get Matthew if anything happens to me.”

  The air seemed to escape Eli’s lungs. “What if he’s mine? Don’t I get a say in this?”

  Devan blinked. “No. You don’t. You didn’t want anything to do with me or a baby. You left. Why would I think you’d want anything to do with him, let alone think you would be an ideal father for my son?” Devan sat back and fingered the edge of the plate. “Honestly, I think this was a mistake. You should sign the divorce papers so I can go.”

  Eli’s heart pounded so hard he thought for a moment it would crack through his chest. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  This was it, his one and only opportunity to say the right words. “I should never have walked out on you the way that I did.”

  “No shit.” Devan cleared his throat.

  “I . . . I never told you that Mom had another minor stroke. A few days before the miscarriage.”

  Devan’s eyes grew wide. “What? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because you’d been so focused on Meg and the baby, and I knew work was stressing you out. Mom wasn’t going to get any better, and you didn’t need yet another thing on your plate.”

  “Jesus, Eli.”

  “I spoke to Stephan, and he suggested I come train in Montreal full-time. I didn’t know what to do. Then when Meg . . . I should have talked to you about how I’d been feeling long before that night. I don’t do emotions very well. I let them control me rather than face them. The excuses don’t matter. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t know if he deserved Devan’s forgiveness, but he was going to damn well make the effort. Eli got up and came around to Devan’s side of the booth. Rather than say anything, he reached into the duffel bag and fished out the divorce papers. “Do you have a pen?”

  “I haven’t left yet.” Devan’s voice shook. “You haven’t even read them.”

/>   “I know. But this is one more thing that should have been handled long ago. I don’t know why Stephan never told me you were trying to get in touch, and I hate that he did that. He had no fucking right to take your choice to be free of me away from you.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a pen, quickly finding all the spots that required his signature. He slid the papers into the envelope before returning them. “There. It’s now your decision. If you want to finalize the divorce, you can send those to your lawyer, and it’s done.”

  He should have immediately gotten back up and returned to his side of the table. But this was only the second time in years that he’d been this close to Devan, legs and arms touching, hands close enough to caress. Eli was selfish enough to want to take advantage of this small moment. It wasn’t until he saw the waiter heading over that he knew he needed to move.

  “What time did you say you needed to be back home?”

  Devan looked at his phone as the table was cleared. “Oh shit. It’s after seven.”

  Eli didn’t know the rules for having a babysitter, but being late was a pretty obvious no-no. “Can I get the bill please? We have to jet.”

  “I better call and let Sandy know I’m on my way. Shit, this is . . . Hi, Sandy.” Devan was up and moving toward the washrooms.

  Eli didn’t bother waiting, got up, and went to the front to pay for the meal. He’d barely finished when Devan came racing over, eyes wide and panicked. “I have to get a cab. Sandy said Matthew was fussing terribly in the last half hour.”

  “I’ll drive you.” Eli pulled his jacket on.

  “It’s probably him teething. She got worried but didn’t want to interrupt my date.” He took out his phone and hit a taxi app.

  “I said I’d drive you.” When Devan started to protest, Eli reached out and covered his phone. “I’m here and free. I know where you live, so it’s not a secret. Please, let me do this.”

  Devan’s mental battle was plain as day on his face. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

  With a nod to the hostess, he pressed his hand to Devan’s back as they walked outside. The car was parked in a lot down the street, but they didn’t do much in the way of talking. Devan continued to look down at his phone, and Eli was far too unsure of what to say in the current situation.

  The ride to Devan’s apartment was quiet as he texted with his sitter. As Eli pulled into the visitor parking spot, Devan turned to say something before his mouth snapped shut. Yeah, Eli wasn’t going to let that go. Leaning in, he placed a soft kiss to Devan’s cheek.

  “I’ll be training down at Ringside for the next several weeks. Seems I have a last-minute match that’s come up in the beginning of December. I don’t want to keep you, but if you need me for anything, call me. Or text.”

  Devan’s eyes were wide, and a blush covered his cheeks. “Thank you.”

  “I hope your son is doing okay.”

  “Thank you for dinner.” Devan hesitated before opening the door and getting out.

  Eli watched Devan race across the parking lot to the apartment building. Despite him signing the papers, despite every which way he’d screwed up with Devan, tonight hadn’t seemed like an ending.

  No, for the first time in forever, it felt as though he’d done something exactly right.

  Devan paid Sandy extra for keeping Matthew later than intended, and quickly scooped his son into his arms. Matthew’s gums were swollen and he was drooling up a storm, confirming what he’d suspected about this being a teething episode.

  He got onto the couch, Matthew resting on his chest with his ear over Devan’s heart, and tried to relax. Today had been such a whirlwind of emotions, he knew he was going to need time to process everything. Like the fact that he was divorced.

  Well, he would be as soon as he sent in those papers.

  Matthew began sucking his thumb as Devan’s gaze drifted over to his duffel bag and the papers inside. When Eli had slid over and retrieved them, Devan hadn’t known what to think. Sure, Stephan had kept Eli in the dark, but he’d still been away long enough to realize something like this had happened. He should have reached out to Devan long before now.

  But from the moment they’d sat down for supper, Devan had seen a difference in Eli. Before he’d left, Eli had always been closed off and reserved. Eli tonight had been contrite, talkative. Eli had said more about his mom and his dreams in the hour and a half they’d been eating than he had in an entire month prior to their split. Devan didn’t know if it was Eli’s leaving that had changed him, or his coming home.

  “What the hell am I going to do?” He stroked Matthew’s soft hair, needing the baby scent to soothe his soul.

  There was still the fact that Matthew could very well be Eli’s. Devan hadn’t let his brain go to that possibility too much over the past year and a half. Until now, it hadn’t really mattered if he was the biological father or not. Eli wasn’t in the picture and had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with kids.

  But the Eli he’d seen tonight was a different man than the one he’d been married to.

  Curiosity about what Eli had gone through recently finally got to him. He’d made it a point of blocking out all things MMA the moment Eli had left him, so he wasn’t sure when his last fight had been.

  Careful not to wake Matthew, he pulled out his phone and hit the microphone. “Okay Google, when did Eli McGovern last fight?”

  “Eli McGovern’s last MMA fight was on August 25, 2016. His opponent was Jay ‘The Dragon’ Caulfield, who he defeated at two minutes and twenty-three seconds of the second round.”

  There was a bunch of other information, pre- and post-interview bravado, interviews with managers, blah, blah, blah. From what was listed here, Caulfield sounded like a complete asshole. He’d find his opponent’s weakness and would exploit it in both the media and in the ring. No wonder Eli had to be careful when it came to his sexuality. If a guy like Caulfield got wind of it, he’d turn Eli’s career into a sideshow.

  And this was the same asshole who Eli was going to fight in December? Why the hell would he agree to something like that? Probably Stephan’s brilliant idea or something. For such a tough-ass man, Eli could be a complete pushover when it came to some things.

  With a few quick swipes, he brought up Eli’s number and stared at it. Eli had given a large portion of his life to his fighting career, and when they’d been together, Devan hadn’t taken much interest in it beyond knowing when Eli was training. Devan had been so focused on Eli’s faults that he’d never taken much stock in his own shortcomings. What harm could it do to talk to Eli about the fight? Especially after how well supper had gone. He was only reaching out as an interested friend.

  Yeah, that was all this was.

  Swiping, he brought up the text app. Hey. I was a bit upset and didn’t thank you for bringing me home.

  He waited, hoping that Eli was still awake. Time ticked on, and Devan started to nod off. When his phone buzzed, he jerked awake, which caused Matthew to squirm.

  Just saw this. I was working on fixing the master bedroom at mom’s. You did thank me. But you’re still welcome. There was a pause before another message popped up. How’s he doing?

  Excitement made his nerves tingle as he thumbed out a response. He’s fine. Teething as I’d suspected. I should probably put him in the crib soon.

  Where r you now?

  Couch. He likes it out here when he’s upset.

  I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.

  Devan kissed the top of Matthew’s head. I’ve been reading up on you.

  Oh?

  Got curious. Devan felt his face flush. “God, you’re such a kid.”

  There was a slightly longer pause before Eli responded. I could have told you. Only have to ask.

  Much like he’d been at supper, Devan found himself at an unexpected loss for words. Sure, they hadn’t spoken to one another in three years, but this was still Eli. Devan tapped his thumb on the edge of his phone before finally typing. Is th
at Caulfield guy as bad as the internet says?

  Eventually Eli responded. Yeah, he’s an ass. But Stephan has worked things out for this rematch. Big opportunity.

  Matthew squirmed against him, and for a moment Devan thought they were about to go through another round of crying. Eventually, he would have to move Matthew to his crib, and it was better to do that when he was mostly asleep.

  I have to put M in bed. Promise to look after yourself.

  Tossing his phone onto the coffee table, Devan carefully got up and moved Matthew to bed. Twenty minutes and some expected fussing later, Devan was exhausted. He needed to plug his phone in, then head to bed himself. Nothing said I’m rocking the single parent thing like going to bed at nine o’clock.

  The message light was flashing when he picked it up. Eli had sent a final message, one that Devan didn’t know quite what to make of.

  I’m training at Ringside. 5 days a wk. In case u need anything.

  An invitation? Devan walked to his bedroom, trying to figure out what to do with this particular piece of information. He set his phone on his nightstand, plugged it in but didn’t respond. Meg would kick his ass for even considering doing anything with Eli. Dinner tonight had served a purpose, and now he was free. Finally, he could go out on dates and not feel guilty about being technically married. Not that he actually went on dates, but he totally could. And if they wanted to come back to his place and get intimate, he could do that without wondering if he was technically cheating on a man who’d walked away from him without a backward glance.

  Not that he did that either.

  After getting naked, he turned off his lamp, slid beneath his cool sheets, and closed his eyes. The temperature change did him a world of good, helping slow his mind down. As screwed up as it was, he still had feelings for Eli. He probably always would. The real question was, did he want to put his heart back out there, available for Eli to hurt him once again?

  God, what’s the matter with me? Date Eli again after what he did?

  He needed to leave Eli in the past and get on with his life.

  Closing his eyes, Devan reached down and wrapped his hand around his soft cock. Nothing like a good jerk to clear his head and help him sleep. A few tugs was all it took to get the blood flowing, his shaft slowly filling out in his grasp. Devan had a go-to fantasy that always did the trick in a timely fashion. He relaxed into the mental picture as he began to stroke.