He frowns. “You do.”
I bite my lip, and toy with the idea of whether to push for more or just settle for what I’ve got out of him, but the dark way he spoke about Keiron nags away at me. I think of his arms writhing like snakes across Liam’s chest.
“I need to ask you about Keiron.”
“No,” Liam says.
My stomach drops at that blunt rebuff. “One thing?”
Liam clenches and relaxes his jaw a few times, then nods.
“Were you ever happy with him?”
He looks me in the eye. “No.”
I lower my gaze gradually, until I’m frowning at his torso. “Then why?”
“That’s two questions.”
I concede with a huff.
“Punishment,” he says quietly. “Unhappiness loves company.”
I don’t understand, but I know one thing . . .
My eyes burn. “I hate that you’ve been unhappy for so long.”
Liam’s lips lift with the tiniest of smiles. “I’m happy now.”
“Really?” I snort.
He nods, steps closer, then presses a kiss to my forehead. “Really.”
23
Liam
I had to be there to see Stephen get charged, which meant leaving Freddie and Ryker at home in the early morning. Freddie had been fast asleep when I snuck out of bed, but Ryker had been awake. He didn’t ask me to stay or complain about me leaving, he just gave me a small smile, which I understood as approval or at the very least acceptance.
I return home after lunch to a mostly quiet house. The kitchen is empty, but there are subtle signs of life—the crumbs by the toaster and the two mugs in the sink. I glance up the stairs, but there’s no way Freddie and Ryker can still be in bed, and there’s equally zero chance they returned to bed without me. Ryker is somewhat of a male Lothario, but we discussed rules a long time ago regarding Freddie.
Those rules still stand in my eyes, and I imagine they do in his too.
Which leaves the living room, and that’s where I find them. They don’t see or hear me open the door, they’re too engrossedin their video game, both wearing headsets, talking to whoever else is on their team. I stop behind the sofa to watch. It gives me a warm feeling. Ryker and I may not have discussed the rules we made over a decade ago about intimacy with our best friend, but we have spoken about how we need him to feel comfortable in our presence.
The sexual road in our friendship needs to be just that, a road, a detour from the main, but the main remains the same. He needs to know it’s an extra, not a replacement for what we were and always have been.
The game is a first point of view shooter, Freddie’s favourite, and we haven’t played since before he asked us to be his best men. I spy my purple controller on the coffee table, seemingly waiting for me to come home and join in, but I want to play something else with my best friend and my brother. First I have to tell them about Stephen.
“Yes,” Freddie hisses. He shoots a smug smile Ryker’s way.
Ryker elbows him, and although they’re sitting close, it’s no closer than a month ago. This is the norm before the storm, and I love that we’re back here again.
The match ends, and Ryker slips off his headset.
“Hey,” I say, not expecting Ryker to scream—but he does—like a banshee.
Freddie’s eyebrows lift to his hairline, then he’s laughing at my brother.
