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said. ā€œNone that will claim him. Bo doesnā€™t really have anyone.ā€

ā€œNot having family ainā€™t always a bad thing,ā€ Max said, shocking himself with that slip of personal opinion. He tried not to let anyone ever see anything more than his laid-back persona and the hard work he did. Still, it was already done. ā€œYouā€™re bringing him here, ainā€™t you?ā€

Chance was silent for a solid minute during which Max tried not to beg. ā€œHeā€™s being released in a couple of days, and heā€™s going to need some friends, and some help, too. Rory and I already went to his place and packed up as much as we could fit in Boā€™s SUV and our truck. Is it okay with you if we bring him home?ā€

Max nearly rolled his eyes. ā€œChance, youā€™re the boss, you can bring home whoever you want to.ā€

ā€œThat doesnā€™t mean I have to be an ass, though. I just wanted to check, I thought you and Bo got along fine, butā€¦ā€

But WHAT? Max wanted to shout it. He wished Chance would just say whatever it was he wanted to say and be done with it already so Max could shower and collapse into bed. His body ached like a bitch and heā€™d been through the emotional wringer twice today, at least.

ā€œBut what?ā€ He finally asked when Chance didnā€™t seem inclined to continue.

ā€œI guessā€¦ā€ Chance sighed, the sound whooshing into Maxā€™s ear with the force of a small tornado. ā€œYou seem all right with me and Rory. I guess I just wanted to make sure you wouldnā€™t have a problem sharing the bunkhouse with a gay man if Bo decides to stay once heā€™s healed. Weā€™re going to try to talk him into it, if you and Annabelle are okay with that.ā€

Oh God! Maxā€™s dick hardened so fast he felt light-headed. Having Bo here would be hell, but not for any reason other than the fact Max felt things for the man he just hadnā€™t felt for anyone.

ā€œMax?ā€ Chanceā€™s voice sounded a little louder, a little harder. ā€œIs that going to be a problem?ā€

ā€œNo, you know I ainā€™t one of those bigots,ā€ Max snapped, then cringed when he

realised what heā€™d done, but damn it, Chance should know him better. ā€œAnd I ainā€™t one of MILES TO GO

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those dumbasses who thinks every gay man is out to take my ass, either, so you can quit painting me with that homophobic brush!ā€ Fuck, he was going to get fired if he didnā€™t get his mouth under control!

ā€œYouā€™re right,ā€ Chance surprised him by saying. ā€œYouā€™ve never done or said anything to make me think youā€™re like that, and I apologise.ā€

Max liked the fact Chance didnā€™t make any excuses, no ā€˜I apologise, itā€™s just been a shit day and the stress got to me, blah blah blahā€™. A straight-out apology had always meant more to Max than one followed by excuses.

ā€œApology accepted, and Iā€™m sorry for snapping and talking to youā€”ā€

Chance cut him off with a sharp, ā€œDonā€™t even.ā€ Max heard Chance exhale and waited, felling sure there was more to be said. There was, but not on the subject of Max mouthing off.

ā€œCan you and Annabelle handle things there if Rory and I stay in San Antonio? Weā€™d like for Bo to have someone here at least.ā€

Max wanted to be there himself, but he couldnā€™t say that without Chance asking him questions he didnā€™t really want to answer. ā€œYeah, we got everything under control.ā€ He told Chance about the tree and repairing the fence and assured him once again everything was fine before they finally ended the call. Afterwards, Max sat on the side of the bathtub and rubbed his temples. He was so confused. These feelings for Bo were just so alien to him. If he were normal like everyone else, he wouldnā€™t be experiencing what he suspected was his first crush at the ripe old age of forty-three.

For all of his adult life, heā€™d kept people away, afraid to let anyone to close lest they find out what a mess he was. And he had feared for years heā€™d turn out like his parents and siblings. Even though he hadnā€™t so far, and he didnā€™t truly believe he ever would, sometimes the doubts would creep in, especially when he got angry.

Max groaned and rubbed his temples so hard he got light-headed. He wished he could scrub all those memories away. What he wouldnā€™t give to be able to go back in timeā€”

ā€œIdiot.ā€ Stupid to even think like that. Heā€™d learned a long time ago that imagining a happy childhood only made the reality of his abusive one hurt worse. A sound in the hall alerted him just before there was another knock on the door.

ā€œJust a minute,ā€ he called out as he stood up. ā€œAlmost done.ā€ Annabelle grumbled something he couldnā€™t quite hear clearly as he walked over to the sink. He turned the water on and cupped his hands under it. A couple of splashes and he finally dared to look in the MILES TO GO

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mirror. Other than dripping wet, he looked the same as always. Max tried smiling, relieved when it didnā€™t appear strained. As long as he could keep that smile in place, Annabelle shouldnā€™t be able to tell his insides were churning almost as much as his mind was.

As Max laid in bed staring at the ceiling an hour later, he tried to imagine what it was going to be like having Bo around, possibly even right here in the bunkhouse. His dick had been hard since firming up in the bathroom earlier, and Max was beginning to ache with the need to come. It infuriated him that he still felt too inhibited to masturbate most of the time.

Twenty-six years heā€™d been gone from his parentsā€™ house, and his head was still fucked

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