It had called his name.
It all seemed so real. He ached, his feet hurt—though not as much as they had—and he was starving. The fruit and nuts Fenna had handed him a few hours ago had helped, but now he was ravenous.
He took another deep breath and faced reality. His imagination had never been this good.
Danny had been the writer. He’d always had a great—
No.
Kansas hadn’t thought about him in years and he had no desire to start now.
But the floodgates had been opened. Something about Lenard, the youthful beauty, the eagerness to please reminded Kansas of the past he’d spent the last five years trying to bury.
Danny.
He was the last in a long line of relationship mistakes. At the time, Kansas had believed he was finally the one. That he’d found someone who would never leave. Someone who wanted him, needed him for himself.
He’d known Danny was young, only in his mid-twenties, but he’d seemed so perfect for him when they’d first met. Someone he could make a life with.
Kansas had always had a tendency to be the dominant partner, the older father figure. Uncle Emerson had called him the fixer. He liked to be needed, liked to take care of the people he loved. Unfortunately that usually translated into a babysitter or, Kansas shuddered, a sugar daddy.
Danny wasn’t the type to need anything like that. He was creative, passionate and full of laughter, but responsible as well. He’d put himself through school, was an editor for a well-known publisher and wrote fantasy fiction in his spare time.
The sex between them had been fantastic. Danny was eager and willing to experiment with role-play. But even better, for Kansas anyway, he’d said he wanted to be an equal partner in his life. To make their own family. Something Kansas had always longed for.
He wanted that magic he’d been told his parents had before they’d disappeared, leaving his uncle as his guardian.
For a while, it looked like he was going to get it. But he wasn’t enough.
A handful of forgiven “slips” with other men, a drained bank account and countless empty apologies later, Kansas finally understood he’d been played. The last straw came when he caught Danny in their bed with a stranger, laughing about how generous and gullible his rich boyfriend was. How he let him get away with anything.
How the mediocre sex was worth it, for that alone.
Despite his pain, he’d been generous at the end too. He’d left Danny the apartment and the convertible he’d given him for his birthday. He hadn’t needed anything to remind him what a fool he’d been. It wasn’t a lesson he planned on forgetting.
His inheritance and investments ensured Kansas would never have to work another day in his life, so he just stopped. He’d packed up his broken heart and headed to the family homestead in Iowa, where he’d been born.
A few years of renovating the farmhouse and filling it with everything a modern day hermit would need insured his isolation and self-sufficiency. He was grateful for time alone to heal.
And then, as it has a tendency to do, time passed.
Five years had slipped away so quickly. All spent alone because Kansas couldn’t trust himself not to make another mistake. Couldn’t allow himself to hope again.
The kind of love he used to dream of didn’t exist for him. There was no mate for his soul, no perfect match. No magic.
Not everyone got the happy ending. His uncle hadn’t. His best friend didn’t believe in it. Now, neither did he.
Ahhhh. Soooo saaad. Shhhh. It’sss okaaay.
“Wha—” He slid beneath the water in shock, coming up sputtering and gasping for air as he whipped his head around, searching for the voice. “Who’s there? Lenard?”
A watery chuckle bubbled around his arms. He looked down. “Please don’t tell me the water just spoke to me.”
Nooo feeear. We know youuu. Why doooo we knoooow you?
“This isn’t happening and you definitely don’t know me.”
We dooo. Let usss make youuu haaappy.