Page 39 of Merrick

“Hey,” Bryce said awkwardly, shoving a hand through his hair only for all the strands to fall right back into place on his forehead and the tops of his ears.

“Hey.” He stepped out of the way to let his brother in. “I didn’t expect you.”

“Are you busy?”

“Just cleaning.”

Bryce closed the door behind him and made a beeline for the couch, collapsing onto the corner that had quickly becomehis, even though he hadn’t lived with Merrick for very long at all.

“Everything okay?” Merrick joined his brother on the couch, frowning at the rings on the coffee table left behind from one too many ignored water glasses and beer cans.

“Yeah, we just haven’t really talked at all since I started dating Holden.”

Merrick inhaled deeply.

“And I know you told him you don’t care, but I’m not sure I believe you,” Bryce said.

“I really don’t care.”

Bryce made a sound in the back of his throat.

“I care that you kept it from me,” Merrick said. “I don’t care who you fuck.”

“You used to care.”

Merrick groaned, rolling his neck until it cracked. “I didn’t want you to get hurt by sucking off the wrong jock on the wrong team, alright?”

“So you slut-shamed me?”

“Are we here to talk about high school or the fact you think I’m avoiding you because you’re dating my coworker?” he pressed.

“Maybe both.”

“I need a beer for this.” He pushed up from the couch and went to his very clean and sparkling kitchen. Merrick pulled two beers from the fridge and shoved the second one into his brother’s waiting hand upon his return to the living room. “What do you want to say, Bryce?”

“Will you be quiet long enough for me to get it out?”

It was a fair question, even though the accusation was biting. Bryce would never know what it was like being the only child, the firstborn, with parents like theirs. Bryce wouldn’t understand how hard Merrick had to fight for attention, how much he needed it then and craved it now.

In answer, he cracked the top on his beer and waited for his brother to speak.

Bryce waited him out, like if he held on to the silence for long enough, Merrick would give in and fill it. And he wanted to. This was definitely some sort of test because it took all his willpower to not overwrite the quiet with the sound of his own voice.

“Who are you seeing?” Bryce asked, eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“You’re seeing someone.”

“How do you know that?” Merrick asked.

“You’re different.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” Bryce countered, stare locked on Merrick as he took a slurping sip of his beer.

“Are you the only one allowed secrets?”