“Are we?” Raine was watching each reaction, each of Don’s expressions; Don thought fleetingly about Raine as a lawyer, examining witnesses, dissecting testimony. “I want—you have no idea what I’ve been wanting, with you. And I did go out to a s*x club last night. Trying to not think, even though it didn’t work. And you say we’re okay.”
Don tightened the hand on his neck. Raine’s knees wobbled. His pretty eyes got even wider.
“We are,” Don told him. “We’re okay. I know why you might’ve needed to. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I would have been. I want to be. I’m here now.”
“And I’m here.” Raine swallowed. “With your obnoxious bookshelves.”
“Ah,” Don said. “Okay, then. We can do that. Get on your knees.”
Raine dropped to the floor so fast Don winced on his behalf. “Don’t hurt your knees.”
