As soon as they arrived at the clinic, Micah barely made it past the front door before doubling over and throwing up.
The chaos that followed didn't settle until Micah was finally lying on the bed, pale and exhausted. After receiving antacids, fluids, and a shot of benzodiazepine, he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
Darcy sat beside the bed, watching him with an intense look. He replayed everything that had happened from the moment Micah got drunk.
A part of him was happy because, in Micah's eyes, he was handsome, he was special. Even drunk, Micah had been fond of him, treating him with a warmth that made Darcy's chest tighten.
But beneath that fragile happiness, Darcy faced a truth he hadn't let himself acknowledge until now. There was another kind of desire tangled in his heart.
