AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s good.” Inside, my heart danced a little squee of joy. Outwardly, I schooled my features into empathic concern.
“It’s bloody amazing, all things considered. She’s having the house, but I’m keeping some of our joint savings and my pension. I really can’t complain.”
Even though I had to plough through fish and a mountain of healthy greens, dinner was fun. To be honest, I was envious of Evan’s vegan/rice concoction—it smelled bloody lovely. He proved as excellent company as he had back at Christmas, better in some ways, as he was no longer trying to hide the pain from his various injuries while attempting to be a perfect, uninvited houseguest. Under a reserved, cautious seriousness hid mischief; I could sense it. And from the opinions he held and his way of labouring a point, he was his own man. I liked that in him. Plus, he’d mastered a wicked impression of Lucien Avery—the fey voice, fluttery eyelashes, hand gestures and everything. Lucien’s cousin Freddie would have been in stitches.
“I bet you don’t do that in front of your mate Jay.” I grinned, topping us both up. Seeing as I'd been making eyes at it, he’d fed me a forkful of his dinner, a cuteness neither of us felt entirely comfortable with, but liked, nonetheless.
Mentioning Jay brought back the seriousness. “Most definitely not. To be honest, I’m lucky Jay speaks to me at all; I was pretty vile to him, looking back, when he first met Lucien.”
“Yeah?” I swallowed a mouthful of bland salmon, hoping he’d continue.
“I felt I was losing him. And I didn’t realise at the time, but I was jealous. Of Lucien. Because it was only when Jay got together with Lucien that I understood what I’d felt for him had been more than friendship. Not that he ever suspected; I hadn’t formalised it in my head myself really, and I was engaged to Paula. But I felt rejected. I needled him. And Lucien is a tricky customer. I said some unpleasant things about him.”
“I’ve known the earl all my life. Not closely. So I know he comes across to some folk as a bit peculiar, with his clothes and all, but he’s a fair boss, just like his dad before him.”
Slightly sorrowful, Evan’s green eyes flicked up to mine. “I can appreciate that now. He’s a good person, and Jay thinks the world of him. They used to call me his second-best man, which I deserved. Still do, probably.”
He laughed softly. Second-best? Evan was no one’s consolation prize. “Why?”
“On account of me being chosen as Jay’s best man for his wedding to a female friend of ours that never happened. He called the whole thing off about a week before. The second-best thing was a kind of joke—now he had Lucien, he didn't need me. They didn't know for a long time, but I felt second-best too. Rejected, like I said. Jay worked his sexuality out just in time, whereas I’ve…well, I arrived at the same conclusion a little later.”
Jay Sorrentino, his husband Lucien Avery, and I moved in very different circles. We’d barely exchanged two words, but Freddie spoke very fondly of Jay, and he seemed a chill, decent guy. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
“God, no. This all happened years ago. And Jay and Lucien are made for each other. Unfortunately, Lucien and I still don’t particularly see eye to eye. He brings out the worst in me. He makes me feel like a complete oaf when I visit, and so I find myself behaving like one.”
“I find that hard to believe.” As the meal had worn on and the conversation more personal, we leaned closer to each other across the table. Without me noticing, the rest of the snug had ceased to exist; I’d become indifferent to the quality of the food, the wine, the room temperature, even my underdressed outfit. So at odds with my own secrecy, Evan’s raw honesty and desire to have been a better friend had captivated me. His warm gaze made every forkful of rice, each bob of his Adam’s apple, each swipe of his tongue across his lips after he swallowed, an exquisite exercise in control.
He threw me a wry smile. “And although Lucien is charming, he hasn’t forgiven me for being a dick to Jay, for giving him such a hard time instead of supporting him one hundred percent after he split up with his fiancée.”
Evan’s lips were faintly wine-stained at the creases. God, what I’d give to lick those off. “It’s nice for Jay to have someone like that fighting his corner,” he added. “We all need a Lucien in our lives.”
We both ruminated on that. The waitress took our plates. Evan waved the puddings menu away, so I wouldn't be having dessert. A cheese sandwich later would have to fill the gap.
“So, what about you?” he asked after she’d gone.
Buzzed from the alcohol, I leaned back and spread my thighs, as if stretching out with a full belly, so my leg brushed against his under the table. Evan’s eyes flickered up to mine, widening a fraction. Something lurked in that look, silently posing the question but not daring to verbalise it.
Disconcerted, he rubbed his napkin across his mouth, then asked me again. “How come nobody has snatched you up, Rob?”
Christ, where did I start? Because I’ve spent twenty years in the closet and thrown away the key? And it has been so long I’ve forgotten all the reasons I’d climbed into it in the first place? Because I’ve tried so, so hard to want women, but something was missing? That if he continued to send those sweet lopsided smiles my way, my resolve might crumble, and I’d try to explain all that to him? How much time had he got?
I shrugged, a therapist's worst nightmare. “Oh, you know. Just never stumbled across the right person, I guess. I get by.”
“I bet you do much more than that.” Sitting forwards in his seat, with his elbows steepled on the table, his eyes roamed my face speculatively, landing on my mouth. His poker face needed some practice. When men like him gave blokes like me that kind of look, they were after only one thing. He wanted me, and he didn’t even realise how much the intensity of those fucking delicious green eyes gave him away. If it was within my repertoire, I’d be blushing.
“You know what they say.” His mouth quirked in a tease. As he paused and bit down on his lip, I swear my dick gave a little squeak. “It’s the quiet ones you should always watch out for.”
“Yeah.” I paused myself, searching for a witty, sexy rejoinder. Shame I didn’t have any. “You’re right. The quiet ones are trouble. No one plots a murder out loud.”
Christ, here I was sitting opposite a guy unwittingly talking his way into my trousers, and I responded with a shit joke. In my defence, my thinking processes had turned haywire; it was a wonder I’d strung together anything coherent. My entire being was coiled tight as a spring, fuelled by a heart pumping like crazy.
Evan slowly rubbed his fingertips across his jaw. If I didn't get to press my nose into that black stubble soon, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions. Despite the bad quip, his eyes devoured me as though I was his vegan dessert of choice.
Unconsciously mirroring his body language, I leaned forwards again myself, close enough to count every fleck of green and gold rimming his dark pupils. In a voice a hell of a lot steadier than I felt, I murmured, “Evan. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
I had a feeling I was about to blow his mind. “How many single straight men around here do you think forgo the pub after work on a Friday night to have a cosy intimate dinner with a gay bloke instead?”
