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Patrick’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m scared I don’t deserve it.”
“Patrick.” Fal’ran pulled Patrick into his chest. Ridiculous fucking man. “Of course you deserve it. Do you think we’re all idiots? Blindly following some new asshole?”
“No, of course not.” Patrick pushed out of Fal’ran’s arms. “But I’m already proving my point, aren’t I?” He gestured to the far wall, toward the hangar. “You’re all choosing me over what’s clearly the right decision, and I’m letting you. I’m leading you into an extremely dangerous situation that you shouldn’t be in, all for…” Patrick’s scent filled with that acrid shame Fal’ran hated so much. “…myself? Because I can’t bring myself to step down?”
Despite Fal’ran’s efforts, a snort of laughter escaped his lips. “Do you hear yourself? The four of us had to strong arm you into staying and you’re worried you couldn’t bring yourself to step down?”
Patrick dropped his face into his hands. “I just—” He groaned. “I’m so scared I’ll let you all down. That I already have. That I’ve made a mistake.”
Fal’ran pulled Patrick’s hands away. “I believe in you.”
Patrick’s eyes widened, and Fal’ran’s heart wrenched.
“You said that to me and changed everything.” Fal’ran rubbed his thumbs over Patrick’s wrists. “Did anyone ever say it to you?”
Patrick licked his lips, and Fal’ran fought down a pulse of arousal. “No.”
Not even Mal’ik? Had no one realized Patrick needed to hear it? Had no one bothered? Had anyone ever looked, really looked, at the man?
Fal’ran pressed their foreheads together, the horns on his brows indenting Patrick’s skin. “I believe in you.”
I love you.
The words hung on the tip of Fal’ran’s tongue. He’d never thought those words before. He’d certainly never said them. He didn’t say them now, but they soaked into his soul, and he knew they were true. But Patrick didn’t need to hear them now. He wouldn’t be able to hear them now, too wrapped up in his own self-doubt.
Patrick opened his mouth and Fal’ran readied himself for the argument, but Patrick blew out a breath and nodded. “Thank you.”
“And I believe one of you is worth a thousand Menaces to our team.” Fal’ran dropped a kiss onto Patrick’s forehead—I love you—before straightening up and tugging Patrick to his feet. “Now come on. You skipped out on a bench press set.”
“I did not.” Patrick snorted. “I did it before you got here.”
“Maybe, but you can take more weight.” Fal’ran slid another half plate onto the barbell.
“I really can’t.” Patrick eyed the total amount of weight Fal’ran shoved onto the bar, and Fal’ran tucked his nose into the hollow of Patrick’s throat as he walked past. Amusement, contentment, affection.
Rain.
Fal’ran closed his eyes to savor it. That was what Patrick Smith was supposed to smell like.
“Yes, you can.” Fal’ran planted himself behind the bar and motioned for Patrick to lie down. “Because I’m going to help you.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Fal’ran.”
The voice sounded so far away and so insignificant it dripped across Fal’ran’s mind and fell away.
“Fal’ran.”
Except…no, Fal’ran recognized that voice. It wasn’t insignificant. It was important.
“Fal’ran.”
Patrick was always important. He—
Oh fuck, everything hurt. Hurt hurt hurt pain pain pain—
“Fal’ran!”
