We only hear the shocked gasp.
Marshall and I break apart, both of us breathing hard, and turn toward the sound.
Blaine is standing in the doorway, his hand on the doorknob, staring at us with an expression of complete shock. His mouth is hanging open, eyes wide, and he’s frozen in place like someone pressed pause on him.
Fuck.
I pull away from Marshall and slide off the table, my hands going to adjust my shirt.
Blaine’s shock morphs into something that looks like fury. “What the hell is going on here?” His voice is sharp, cutting through the silence.
Marshall tenses beside me, his whole body going rigid. I can feel him shifting into protective mode, preparing to step forward.
But this is my battle, not his.
I put a gentle hand on Marshall’s shoulder and step between him and Blaine. “What are you doing here?” I ask, keeping my voice level despite the adrenaline coursing through me.
Blaine’s eyes are blazing. “I came to speak to you.” He looks between me and Marshall, his gaze sharp and assessing. “Clearly I’m interrupting something.”
“You are.” I cross my arms over my chest. “And I have nothing to talk to you about.”
“Clearly.” Blaine’s eyes linger on Marshall for a long moment before returning to me. “Does Philip know about this?” He gestures between the two of us.
Marshall crosses his arms over his chest, mirroring my posture. “It’s none of your business.”
Blaine’s face flushes red. “Philip is my old friend. We’ve known each other for decades.” His voice grows louder. “And if his sons are engaging in such… depravity, I have no choice but to tell him.”
The color drains from my face. I glance at Marshall, and he looks livid. I can see him holding himself back from lunging at Blaine.
I step toward Blaine, my own anger rising to meet his. I’m so fucking done with this man’s manipulations, his games, his constant attempts to control me.
“You should mind your own business and leave us alone. What Marshall and I do is none of your concern. We’re both adults. We can make our own choices.”
Blaine’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. He clearly wasn’t expecting me to talk back to him like this. He’s used to me being accommodating, agreeable, easy to manipulate.
Not anymore.
“You—” Blaine sputters. “You can’t speak to me like that.”
“I just did.” I take another step forward, and Blaine actually backs up toward the door. “You need to leave. Now. And you need to stop showing up here uninvited. Whatever we had is over. It’s been over. And I’m not going to tolerate you pestering me or Marshall anymore.”
Blaine’s face cycles through several emotions: shock, anger, something that might be hurt. He takes another step back, his hand finding the doorknob.
“This isn’t over,” he says, his voice tight. “You’re going to regret talking to me like that, Gabriel. Both of you will.”
“Get out,” I say.
Blaine glares at me for another long moment, then turns and storms out of the kitchen. The door slams behind him, rattling the windows. We stand in silence, listening to his footsteps retreating, then the sound of a boat engine starting up and pulling away from the dock.
When the sound fades completely, Marshall looks at me and says, “That was kind of hot.”
Despite everything, a smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah, well. I’m not going to let him play mind games with me anymore.”
Marshall steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my face. “Do you think he’s going to tell Philip about us?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “He might.” I take a breath, the idea forming even as I speak. “But I was thinking that maybe… we should tell our parents about us. When we’re both ready, of course,” I add quickly.
Marshall’s eyes widen. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face. “I’d like that.”
