![]() He’d never told anyone that they were dating. He’d never held Will’s hand in public, kissed him where people could see. Twenty-five years later, he still wasn’t as comfortable in his skin as Will was, but he’d make it up to him if he got the chance. It had been that, but it had also been more, and if he hadn’t been so terrified of people finding out, he’d have realized that he loved Will. He’d give it a real chance instead of treating their relationship as an experimental summer fling. And if it didn’t work out this time, they could at least say they’d given it a proper try. What he wanted was a second chance with Will-a proper second chance without gods and demons and everyone else sticking their noses in. He didn’t want to be with anyone who had to be compelled to be with him. Love couldn’t be written into a contract. “Love,” the voice whispered, silken in his ear. ![]() He didn’t want what was being offered, so he smiled. What would he do with fame? That was nothing but an ego stroke. ![]()
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