Liam’s hand cupped his jaw with surprising gentleness for someone who could probably use the mountains as free weights.
Every atom in Teagan’s body focused on those fingers against his skin. He should push Liam back. Should explain that this wasn’t possible, that he and Hayden were together, that adding someone else could obliterate everything.
Liam’s lips touched his, soft at first, testing. Then Teagan’s mouth parted on a gasp.
Pull away! Man down!
Instead, god help him, he melted forward, hands finding Liam’s shoulders for balance as the kiss deepened. Liam tasted like iced tea and something darker, richer. His other hand settled on Teagan’s waist, thumb stroking along his ribs through the thin fabric.
Time contracted to this single point of contact, the world narrowing to Liam’s mouth moving against his, the solid warmth of that broad frame between his legs, the way his body responded like it had been waiting for exactly this.
Memories flickered through Teagan’s mind. Hayden at ten, defending him against playground bullies. At seventeen, teaching him to drive in an empty parking lot. At twenty-two, holding him through his father’s funeral.
Hayden saving him the last slice of pizza without being asked.
The way Hayden’s eyes had softened the first time they’d kissed.
Twenty years of having someone who saw all of him and stayed anyway.
Teagan yanked backward so fast he nearly tumbled off the counter. “I can’t… Shit. I have to go.”
Scrambling down, he bolted for the door, Liam’s voice calling after him. The transition from indoor cool to outdoor heat hit like a physical wall. Teagan stumbled through the crowd, searching frantically until he spotted Hayden near the dessert table, laughing at something one of the shorter guys had said.
Their eyes met across the yard. Hayden’s expression shifted from amusement to concern in an instant, but Teagan couldn’t face those questions. Not yet. Not with Liam’s kiss still burning on his mouth and guilt eating him alive from the inside.
The car. He needed the car.
Teagan ran, nearly face-planting as he reached the sedan. Locked. Because Hayden had the keys, because they’d driven here together, because Teagan couldn’t even properly flee his own catastrophic decisions.
Instead, he slumped against the driver’s door, legs finally giving out as he slid down to sit on the ground, pulling his knees to his chin.
What have I done?
* * * *
“You sure this is the right place?” Edwin asked as they drove slowly by the house with peeling yellow paint. It didn’t look like much for two guys shacking up together.
“Yep. Jeff at the post office said this was the address they used for their forwarding mail,” Ramos replied.
They circled the place three times, shoes sinking into muddy patches where the grass had died. No lights inside, no music, not so much as a flicker from a phone screen. Even the mailbox was empty when Ramos checked.
Edwin crouched low and tapped the window again. Nothing.
“If they’re home, they gotta be sleep,” Ramos said.
Edwin’s lip curled. “Got us arrested because he can’t take a punch.”
A dog barked four houses down then nothing but silence. Dead leaves crunched under their boots as they quietly made their way along the side of the house until they found the back door.
Ramos fished a pick set from his pocket. In less than ten seconds, the latch popped. No security system, not even a sticker threatening one. Edwin rolled his eyes. “People these days. Always screaming about how unsafe they are but can’t be bothered to lock up.”
They slid inside, careful not to slam the door. A clock ticked faintly from the wall, irritating Edwin. It reminded him of the clock in the cafeteria in prison, the one he’d always sat under to eat the slop he was served.
The kitchen was small, like the inside of a cell. A desperate little place with the bare minimum on display. Each drawer opened and shut with a squeak. Edwin found nothing but some loose change and a coupon booklet.
Ramos pocketed the coins.
Old furniture filled the living room. Probably came with the place. They’d tried to cover the worst stains with blankets, but Edwin could still see the ancient burns on the armrests. On two cushions sat a stack of folded laundry, so clean it made his teeth ache.
