Personal Entanglement (Thorne and Dash 2)

Neither could Thorne. He’d fucked everything up by leaving the paperwork out. Still, he hadn’t expected this level of hostility from Riley. He should have listened to Susan.

Riley should be thankful instead of being an ass. That voice was insidious. The same voice had been telling him things were off between them for weeks, ever since Riley moved in.

“You could have asked me,” Riley said.

“Marc told me you loved the place. He said it was perfect, and Susan agreed.” Riley’s look of shock made Thorne regret the words as soon as he said them.

“Am I the only one you didn’t consult?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

The look on Riley’s face was so vicious Thorne nearly took a step back. “You wanted to choose for me like I’m some fucking kid.”

“Riley, you know I’ve never thought of you as a kid.”

“Really? Because apparently you expect to dictate where my business will be. What’s next, you telling me how to run it?”

Thorne squeezed his fists. Riley was way out of line. “This was supposed to be a gift. I was also going to offer to help with a business plan. I guess that’s out. Even the arrogant-as-fuck CEOs that come to my office don’t whine like babies because I dare to offer suggestions.”

This time Riley was the one who stepped back. “Don’t compare me to your fucking clients, Thorne. We’re supposed to be partners.”

“Yeah, we are. And partners do things for each other. They share what they’re good at, and that sharing goes both ways. They don’t push each other away every fucking time they’re offered a gift.”

“And they don’t make decisions for each other or take over—”

“Riley, have I done that? Really? When you asked about school, did I tell you what to do?”

Riley shook his head. But Thorne could tell how reluctant he was to admit it.

“Have I told you how to handle the catering even when it was for an event I was in charge of?”

“No, but—”

“But fucking nothing.” Thorne had to get out of there. If he didn’t, he was going to say something he regretted or break down and humiliate himself. He shoved his feet into the shoes he’d left by the door. They didn’t go with his current outfit, but he didn’t give a damn.

“Where are you going?” Riley sounded worried, like he actually cared, but Thorne wasn’t swayed by that. He was too angry. Angry and hurt.

Thorne didn’t look at him as he pulled his jacket on and grabbed his briefcase. “I’m going to the office to do the work I’ve ignored while researching the fucking building.”

“Wait, Thorne, I—”

“I’ll see you later.” Thorne slammed the door, reveling in the echoing bang.

***

Riley stared at the door.

Go after him. Now.

His feet were glued to the floor. All he could do was sink down until he was sitting on the floor in the dining room. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he wiped them away. The fuck he was going to cry over Thorne when he’d…

What? Dared to buy him an expensive gift?

Expensive? It’s a fucking building.

The building with the most perfect bakery space in the city.

He wiped his eyes so he could see the screen of his phone and called Marc. “I screwed up,” he said when Marc answered.

“Oh, fuck, what did you do now?”

“Thorne tried to… And I… Oh, fuck.” The enormity of how horrible he’d been to Thorne hit him.

“Where are you?”

“Home.” Though it might not be his home for long.

“Is Thorne there?”

“He left.”

“Riley?”

He could hear the horror in Marc’s voice. “We’re not… I mean, I don’t think we… He’ll be back. It’s his apartment. He said he was going to the office, but he’s so pissed. I was awful.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? Just stay put.”

Riley did manage to move to the couch after getting a bottle of tequila from the cabinet. By the time Marc got there, he and old Jose Cuervo had gotten quite friendly.

“Ah, shit,” Marc said as he pushed the door closed behind him. “If you’re drinking tequila, then it’s really bad.”

Riley nodded.

“Tequila’s for breakups. Please tell me it’s not that dire.”

Riley shrugged. “I don’t know what it is.”

“What did you do?”

“He’s not blameless, you know.” Riley gestured with his glass, making some of the liquid slosh over the sides.

“If you didn’t blame yourself, you’d be ranting about Thorne and swigging from the bottle. You look more sad than angry, and you have a glass.”

“How the fuck do you know things like that?”

Marc smiled. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

Riley held the bottle out to Marc. “Want some?”

Marc shook his head. “I think I’d better concentrate on taking care of you.”

“Suit yourself.” He clunked the bottle down.

“So what happened?” Marc asked.

“Thorne bought the building.”

“What building?”

“The one by Darius’s shop. The one I wanted to rent a space in.”