Jay walked up to the kitchen island and braced himself on the opposite edge from Hugh, facing him. He looked furious. And he was still holding a knife.
“Up until today, Chase had no idea about our situation. But even if he knew, you’re way over the line treating my boyfriend like shit right in front of me!”
My boyfriend. I loved hearing him say that.
I reached out to caress his shoulder. “I’m fine. I can deal with this.”
Hugh snorted derisively. “Really?”
“You’re just worried about Jay. I get that.”
Jay took a deep breath as if calming himself, but he didn’t say anything.
Putting the spoon aside, Hugh folded his massive arms across his chest and squinted at me. I could deal with him on my own, but I was still glad for the solid barrier of the kitchen island between us.
“Do you understand why I’m worried?” he bit out.
“Because you don’t know me and you’ve seen Jay get hurt before.”
My simple answer seemed to throw him off. He looked from me to Jay and back. Jay was still silently seething, his shoulder tense under my hand.
Would it be smart to tell Hugh he was indirectly insulting Jay, or would I just piss him off further? I didn’t get a chance to formulate that into a sentence because after a frigid pause, Hugh asked another question.
“How old are you anyway?”
This wouldn’t go over well. And my beer bottle was empty. “I’m twenty-five.”
Throwing his arms in the air, Hugh turned on Jay. “For fuck’s sake, Jaybird. He’s more than a decade younger than you!”
Kirby cleared his throat. “Do you remember my age, darling?”
“That’s different,” Hugh said confidently, and I almost laughed because there was no way he was winning the upcoming fight. Between Jay and Kirby, Hugh was toast, and I wouldn’t have to say a thing.
Kirby laughed merrily at Hugh’s reply as he must have come to the same conclusion.
Jay put his hands on his hips and glowered at his mountain of a brother. “How is it different?”
“You’re an…” Hugh pointed at Jay, then stopped himself. He gaped like a fish a couple of times.
“I’m a what? Finish your sentence, Hugh.”
“Yeah, baby, what were you going to say?” Kirby chirped in, grinning.
Hugh pushed off the island and went to the fridge. He opened himself a beer and took a deep swig.
“Omega,” he said, then exhaled through his nostrils. “And I am already aware how dumb that sounds, so can we change the subject?”
“No,” said Jay while Kirby exclaimed, “No way in hell.”
After another deep breath and another swig of beer, Hugh looked at me with an almost pleading expression on his rugged face. Was he expecting me to help him after he’d accused me of being a gold digger?
I did feel sorry for him. Kinda. But most importantly, I wanted this evening to go well for Jay’s sake.
So I said, “The food smells amazing. What is that anyway? And can I have another beer?”
Hugh looked so relieved that I thought he might hug me. He took out a bottle, opened it, and handed it to me. “Irish beef stew. And please don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.”
I snickered. “No. I’m not.”
