“Oooh, look at you,” Lane teased, whipping a towel in Nate’s direction, “being Ramsey’s good little errand boy.”
Nate knew it, knew someone might say that, but the truth was, he didn’t mind.
In fact, helikedit. Felt Ramsey’s touch, his presence, resting over him like a cloak.
So it was easier than Lane probably expected for Nate to turn to him with the best shit-eating grin in his arsenal and say, “Better me than you, bud.”
Lane made an outraged noise, but Trevor was laughing next to him, and Nate wondered, not for the first time, when Lane would clue in that maybe what he was looking for was closer to home than he realized. ButNatewasn’t going to be the one to start meddling in the demon twins’ drama.
Not when he was still trying to figure out hisownrelationship.
Nate took a shower, washing the sweat and dirt of a game away, and after doing some media, headed out in a cab with Lane, Trevor, and Dawson.
“Cam’s going to go grab his dad and meet up with us at Vault,” Dawson explained when Trevor asked where Cameron had gotten to.
“Yeah, you’re usually inseparable,” Trevor pointed out, clearly missing the ironic observation that he and Lane werealsousually inseparable. Even as they bickered and gave each other a mountain of shit, Nate realized he couldn’t even picture a time when they hadn’t been right next to each other.
“Speak for yourself,” Dawson retorted, andyeah. Of course he was the guy who was going to say the thing they’d all been fairly careful not to say.
Trevor made a face and Lane chimed in, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Nate soothed.
Lane shot him a look across the bench seat. Nate had taken one side, and Lane the other, shoving Dawson into the middle because he was smaller. Dawson had squawked about that, claiming he was big where it counted, andyeah, if you saw the way Cameron was walking around like his head was in the sex clouds all day, that was not something anyone was currently doubting.
“You’re not the one who said it,” Lane argued as the cab pulled to a stop outside the alley that contained the Vault entrance.
They all piled out, and Nate sort of hoped that might be the end of it, but of course it wasn’t. When they got inside, the doorman waving them inside casually, not even bothering to ask their names or if they were on the list. But then Natehadbeen at the head of the line and he had a feeling Ramsey had made sure that if anyone was going to be recognized from the Thunder, it was going to be Nate.
Still, Ramsey wasn’t anywhere to be seen yet, as they headed towards the bar, and Nate pulled out his phone, shooting him aquick,where you at?text before the bartender could approve him for his order.
But before he could answer, Lane pounced first. “What was that about, in the cab?” he asked Nate in a low voice, sliding in at least two inches closer so they wouldn’t be overheard.
“Seriously?” Nate asked, glancing up and clocking where Trevor was. Yeah, unsurprisingly, notthatfar away. Which meant that Lane at least suspected what Dawson had been talking about, and he didn’t want Trevor to overhear when he asked about it.
Nate mentally sighed. He was going to need to send Deacon a very nice bottle of whiskey or something to make up in arrears for all the difficulty he probably had caused him when he’d been young and very stupid.
Was it not enough that he had to deal with Jordan’s idiocy but now Lane was going to add to it too?
“What?” Lane whined. “You know I don’t like it when people say mysterious shit.”
“It was not that mysterious,” Nate said, after giving the bartender his order. “You know exactly what Dawson was saying.”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking,” Lane said sulkily.
“Okay, you’re ninety-five-percent sure you knew and wanted that five percent certainty.”
“I just don’t know why it’s a big deal. We’re friends.”
“You’re brothers,” Nate reminded him.
“Stepbrothers,” Lane retorted instantly, which really, didn’t that say it all? Nate really was about five seconds away from straight-up demanding Lane think about why that clarification was so key, but then he felt a hand slide up his arm, intimate and sure.
He glanced over at Ramsey, his cobalt blue sweater making his blue eyes impossibly even bluer.
“Hey,” Ramsey said, “congrats.” And Nate didn’t waste a moment, leaning in and kissing him. He kept it brief, unsure how Ramsey felt about obvious PDA—though he could probably guess. Next to him, Lane made a frustrated noise, and a second later he was gone.
“Is he okay?” Ramsey asked, settling easily into the place Lane had occupied next to him at the bar. It felt so right, so natural, to wrap an arm about Ramsey’s waist and tuck him in next to him.
