along his cheek with a sound of scraping stubble. “And that won’t hide it from Nick.”
Barrett pressed the tape down hard. He didn’t look at Daniel.
“And it’s possible…” Daniel started.
“People are different. Not that different. Even I know soulmarks start at the same time. The universal tick, isn’t that what it’s called? Like a clock that’s counted down to zero.”
“People are different,” Daniel insisted. “Nothing you two have done has been by the book so far.”
“I won’t get my hopes up!” Barrett snapped. He held up a hand, palm out, to ward Daniel off. “I won’t look. I won’t . I can’t even think about it. Because if I dare to hope, and I’m wrong…”
Daniel subsided into silence. “You might not be.”
Barrett shook his head in despair. His body had gone rigid and chilly with dread. They wouldn’t even have time to pretend, now. Daniel was right. Nick would see, and he would know, and the life they’d built together was as good as over.
He left the bandage in place. There was no way to stop Nick from noticing, but if he could talk Nick into leaving it alone, they could pretend it wasn’t there for just a little longer. Let us have one more night at least, for fuck’s sake. Just one! That’s not too much to ask .
Daniel glanced through the narrow window panel set into the top of the door. “I don’t hear Nick anymore. He’s probably on his way in.”
Barrett nodded, rough and jerky. He found himself reaching for the bandage again, smoothing it down.
Daniel sighed. “They say, to thine own self be true,” he said. “And they say you can’t fight fate. I don’t think love makes any sense. I don’t think soulmarks make any sense at all. But it’s how we were made.”
Barrett huffed softly. “Even if it’s fucking unfair?”
“I don’t think fair has much to do with anything.” Daniel said. “All we can do is play the hand we’re dealt and hope for the best. Me and you both. Talk to him, Barrett. He should know.”
“As if there’s a choice?”
Daniel raised one shoulder in agreement and empathy. He stepped aside, then, just in time to avoid a collision with the door when Nick opened it.
“Daniel,” Nick said, surprised and not hiding it. And awkward. “I owe you an apology.”
“Not really.” Daniel stepped backward, through the open door, and lifted his chin to Barrett. “It’s not over until it’s over.”
Nick frowned at the door as it closed. “What did he mean by that? I—”
He saw it, then. Not like Barrett had a chance to hide. Not that Barrett tried. He shook his head, helpless and afraid, and bent his neck to show the neat white bandage.
Nick covered his mouth for a long beat. “Fuck,” he said from behind the barrier of his fingers. “Well, fuck me. Have you seen the pattern?”
“No. God, no. I couldn’t make myself look.” Barrett gazed up at him, woebegone. “Can you?”
He watched Nick swallow hard. “I know I should, but…” He shook his head. “I don’t think I can.”
“Nor me.” Barrett spread his hands. “What do we do?” When the only choice open to us is an unbearable one?
He knew the answer to that question. All they could hope for was to be together for as long as possible, for as long as they had left. Barrett wasn’t sure who reached for whom first. Only that they did, both of them, and they didn’t move from the spot for a long, long time. Not before late afternoon had faded into dusk.
Not even after that.
Chapter Six
Nick popped the cork on a bottle of red on his way back to the couch. Barrett had already curled up on the far left cushion with his feet tucked beneath him. Comfort food had nothing on comfort cozying.
They didn’t have long. He could feel that. It would be soon. But it wasn’t now , not yet, and be damned if he’d waste a second of the time they had left.
Barrett’s ears pricked up at the sound of glasses clinking together. “Half a glass for