His Secret

27. Adrian

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ADRIAN

I spent all of last night convincing myself that what happened between Matías and I wasn’t even a big deal. It wasn’t cheating, right? We didn’t even touch. I masturbated, and masturbation is not cheating.

Okay, so I had a small audience. Is that cheating?

I came into his mouth. All right, that’s probably crossing a line, but our bodies never touched. Do I get some sort of grace?

Running late, I get out of bed and rush to the shower, confusing thoughts swirling in my head like a tornado, wreaking havoc on my brain.

I know that it’s still wrong, and anybody would be upset to learn their significant other masturbated in front of someone, but it could be worse, right?

God. I’m so screwed. I’m officially one of those douchey men who come up with any sort of excuse to make themselves feel better over what they did.

How can I possibly stay another night in this hotel room with him, when that was the last thing we did? When I want to do it again. When I want more to happen .

Once I’m dressed, I rush out into the living room prepared to apologize for my tardiness, but I don’t see Matías. The suite is quiet. I find a tented piece of paper on the table with my name scrawled across the front. When I open it up, I read his note.

I heard you in the shower, but I had to leave early since I have my panel this morning. I’ll see you later.

Don’t be weird.

I scoff, but there’s a small smile on my lips when I place the note back on the table. Don’t be weird. Please. How can I act like he wasn’t on his knees in front of me, giving me commands, and swallowing my cum?

With a glance at the time, I rush out the door and down into the lobby. I’m only a few minutes late, but luckily nobody notices when I slip inside the conference room while Matías is mid-speech.

He spots me immediately, however—his gaze looking me up and down as he continues to talk.

Unfortunately, I learn nothing from his Q & A because my mind is revisiting the events of last night, and I wonder how I’ll ever move past that.

While someone asks him a question, his eyes find me as I sit in the back at the end of the row. His finger rubs along the underside of his bottom lip, the hint of a smirk on his mouth before he refocuses and answers the question.

There’s no hiding what he was thinking. He and I are both living in the same moment from eight hours ago.

When he’s done, he gets caught up talking to people, so I slip out of the room and head to the next event. It isn’t until eleven o’clock that we see each other again.

“Morning.” His voice is smooth as silk as he comes around from behind me. “Running late this morning?”

“Didn’t sleep well,” I say before clearing my throat, avoiding his gaze.

“Hmm.”

I fill up my paper cup at the water jug in the hall, taking a sip as I chance a glance at him over the rim. “You? How’d you sleep?”

He grins. “Fine.” There’s a brief pause. “Want to get lunch?”

I bring the cup down and nod once. “Yeah. Sure.”

As I follow his lead, he says hi to a handful of people as we walk, smiling and laughing, not a worry or stressful thought in his head. Must be nice.

It isn’t until we’re near the elevators that I snap into the present and start asking questions.

“Where are we eating?”

“In the room,” he says simply, stretching his arm into the elevator to hold the doors for a few people exiting.

He steps inside as I wait in the hall. Crossing one foot over the other while he slips his hands in his pockets, he doesn’t seem to care one way or the other if I join him.

The doors begin to close and I rush in.

Maybe he knew I was coming all along.

“Are you being weird?” he asks without looking at me.

“No.”

He laughs. “Okay.”

It’s silent for a while, then he says, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“My wife might disagree. ”

His jaw tenses but he doesn’t say anything. The doors open, and we walk out and head to the room.

Once inside, he tosses the key on the counter and removes his tie. “I don’t want to talk about your wife anymore.”

“When have we ever?”

“I don’t want to hear it. That word. That title.”

I swallow, taking in his anger. “It’s easy to do when you don’t have one. When you have no one to answer to. No one to hurt.”

He lets out a mocking laugh. “Well, you know all about hurting people. Glad to see you’ve gotten to a point where you actually care. You didn’t used to.”

Matías stands at the window, looking out.

“I did care about hurting you, Matías.”

He spins around. “You did it anyway, and yet now you’re so morally conscious. Afraid to cheat on a wife you’re not even attracted to. A wife you can never love in a way she deserves. However, you didn’t seem to think twice when it came to hurting me—the one and only person to love you for exactly who you are.”

“Marriage is different. There were vows.”

He scoffs. “Don’t even get me started, Adrian. Those vows were tainted the moment you uttered them. Don’t kid yourself.”

“You used to care about obeying the rules and you were always worried about someone’s feelings being hurt.”

“Yeah, look what that got me.”

The words are like an arrow to the heart.

I step closer to him. “I wanted to be with you. I never wanted it to end.”

“But?”

“My father controlled my life. He knew. He confronted me about it on Thanksgiving weekend, threatening that I’d have nothing if he ever found out his son was gay. He was ready to disown me, and I’d have no money or job security. I lived off his wealth through college, not concerned with having to save or work for my own. I was always aware he’d give me a job when I graduated.

“I went back to school trying not to think about it. I still had half a year, and I wanted to spend every second of it with you. I hoped I’d come up with a plan. I hoped it would work its way out one way or another, but the job was in Chicago. I was always going to leave. I spent too much time living in the present that I wasn't thinking about the future. But the present was perfect. The present had you, and that’s all I wanted to think about. I knew you weren’t gonna go to Chicago. You had your own plans.”

He stares at me for a while, exhaling his frustration. “You could’ve told me. We could’ve talked about this and came up with a plan.”

I shake my head. “That’s because you don’t know what happened during Christmas break.”

“What happened?”