When his fingers found the spaces between James's ribs, he only felt worse, remembering. Havoc twisted his fingers into the fabric of the taller man's shirt, but whether it was to seek comfort or keep himself from sliding sideways off his chair was unclear.
"Right. Right. I do my best, I take care of business." His voice grew hoarse. "Your best is all you can do, right?"
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"Right. Right. I do my best, I take care of business." His voice grew hoarse. "Your best is all you can do, right?"