Their eyes meet and they both nod, a silent agreement made between them as York pulls Dax to his feet. Then with their hands still joined, they press their foreheads together, their free hands reaching up and grasping each other’s shoulder. York grits his teeth, and as the next beat of the song drops, he taps in a way that reminds me of how a boxer would move his feet in a fight. Dax’s top lip curls up in a menacing glare that completely contradicts the love in his eyes. This is two powerful men facing off. Two best friends fighting for each other. For us. For me. My heart fucking swells in
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