Page 61 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

Ro slapped his hand over his eyes. “Geez, man. You could’ve just let him get it out on his own.”

Michaels pfft’d. “Then we might’ve ended up being here all night.”

Furi’s face heated so quickly he thought it might combust.

Hart wiped his beard with a napkin. “You went back to porn?”

“I’m not back.”

Michaels chuckled into his bottle. “Oh, he’s back all right.”

Furi didn’t make eye contact when he asked. “Did you watch it?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?” Michaels frowned as if he was insulted. “Of course I did.”

Ro and Hart gaped at their friend.

Michaels held the silence for a couple more seconds before his mouth pulled into a sly grin. “No, I didn’t watch it. Jesus. I have more respect for my brother than that. But I do have a subscription, so I saw the preview.”

Hart lowered his deep voice. “Is that why you asked me here? You want me to tell Free to make it disappear?”

The offer was shocking, Furi hadn’t thought about Hart’s hacker boyfriend. If he said the word, Free would crash Illustra’s entire site and bury it so deep in cyberspace, Mack could hire a thousand techs, and they’d still never find it.

It was tempting, but Furi shook his head. “I signed a contract. I’m gonna honor my end of the deal.”

Michaels’s amusement faded. “So what did Syn say?”

Furi took another drink of beer. Then another. He drank until the bottle was empty, set it down with too much care then signaled the waitress for another.

Ro went statue-still.

Michaels’ mouth dropped open and stayed there.

Hart’s jaw was so tight, it looked painful.

“He doesn’t know,” Furi confessed.

“You think he doesn’t know,” Ro said.

“Trust me, he doesn’t.” Furi dragged both hands down his face.

Ro appeared disappointed, and that was almost worse than anger.

At least none of them had gotten up and walked out. They loved Syn. They were brothers in the real way, the blood-shed-for-each-other kind of way.

“He’s been too busy working himself to death,” Furi said.

All three men seemed confused first, then concerned.

Ro leaned forward. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” he said, picking up the fresh bottle of beer the waitress put in front of him. “Since I’m already dead, I might as well drill the final nail in my coffin.”

Hart narrowed his eyes. “Styles.”

Furi glanced toward the bar. “I think I need something stronger.”

“No, you don’t,” Hart growled. “Spit it out.”