Reaching back, Somers cupped Hazard’s flushed cheek, felt the heat of it like pins and needles in his hand. “Ree, sweetheart, you are such a dummy sometimes.”

Hazard’s arms tightened until Somers grunted.

“Don’t be a brat,” Hazard growled in his ear.

Laughing, Somers twisted around until he was kneeling astride Hazard’s lap. “I mean, why didn’t you just tell me? We talked about this. You have to take the time to find the right person to help you. Madeleine wasn’t the right person. No big deal. But you can’t just give up. And you certainly cannot lie to me. Not about this. Not anymore. Is that clear?”

Hazard gave a jerky nod; his eyes cut away.

“I’m right here,” Somers said.

After a moment, his eyes shot up to Somers. The next nod was barely a movement at all, but it was there.

“What happened today?”

Hazard told him.

When he’d finished, Somers loosed a low whistle. “Jesus, no wonder you were grumpy. Your body was already totally worn out, and then you went into overdrive again.”

“That’s still not an excuse. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. When . . . when that happens, I can’t even really think. I’m just reacting, and the anger is just like this oil slick on top of the fear.”

Somers considered this; then, leaning forward, he kissed Hazard. “We’ll start looking tomorrow. You want someone who does CBT; from the research I’ve looked at, that’s the only data-driven therapy that helps with PTSD.”

When Somers tried to get up, though, Hazard’s arms tightened until Somers grunted again.

“Hey, let go, I’m—oh.”

The first kiss was on his neck, followed by the scrape and burn of Hazard’s stubble. Then another kiss, higher. Then Hazard’s mouth on his. And Hazard hard under him, rocking up slightly.

“I made you—” Somers fumbled the words between kisses. “I made you a salad.”

Growling, Hazard rolled so that Somers was pinned beneath him, and then he began working Somers’s fly. “I’ve never heard you talk like that before.”

“Oh yeah? You liked that?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

Somers arched his back, hiking up his shirt, letting his hands play over the swirls of ink on his belly. “You like me taking charge? Telling you what to do?”

Hazard yanked, and Somers’s trousers shot down to his ankles. Then Hazard snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Now say that stuff again. The part about research. And data-driven. Definitely say data-driven again.”

CHAPTER SIX

JULY 2

TUESDAY

1:06 AM

HAZARD WOKE TO A buzz-buzz-buzz.

“John,” he mumbled, poking his fiancé in the ribs. “Phone.”

Somers made a noise that sounded like gargherrrr and rolled away. Hazard poked him again, and this time, Somers shot upright. His face was blank, his blond hair wilder than usual. He stared out into the darkness and said, “Stay away from that calendar, Emery Hazard.”

Groaning, Hazard shoved Somers toward the nightstand and burrowed under the pillow.

After a few more buzzes, Somers answered the phone with a groggy, “Somers. Yes, Ehlers. This is Somers. That’s why I answered the phone by saying Somers. For fuck’s sake. For fuck’s sake, why the fuck didn’t you say something?”