Even now he cringed when he thought about how he’d cleaned up, come back to the couch and picked up the television remote. He’d sat naked on the couch, saying nothing as Ty collected his clothes, dressed and left. Pain had been written all over his best friend’s face, yet Donovan had been unable to do anything about it. How could he when he barely understood the thoughts and emotions flying through his own head? The best he could offer was coming back unashamed of being naked with Ty. And he wasn’t ashamed. All those things Ty had said—he knew they were true. Ty was in love with him and that thought sent warm, happy, panicky thoughts colliding through Donovan. That it made him happy was enough to shove them as far out of his mind as possible! And panic? As far as Donovan was concerned, that was natural. What straight guy jacked off with his friend’s cock, shot his load and wanted the guy to fall for him? No matter how he twisted his rationale, he came to the same conclusion.
