Page 74 of Tied Over

Shit. “I just meant that, you know, I’ll miss you being with me all the time and—”

“Miro thinks you have regrets. Do you have regrets?”

Fucking Miro. “When did you talk to Miro?”

“Today. He wanted to know how you were feeling.”

“Because he wants to make sure I’ll be ready to be his minion next—”

“Answer me, Jed,” he said flatly, brows furrowed, eyes darkening. “Do you have regrets?”

The right thing to say was no. The right thing, for his long-term happiness, was to tell him that I had no regrets and that I couldn’t wait to dance at his wedding.

“Be honest,” he ordered me.

And I would be. “I want you to be happy.”

“Oh yes, I know. You’ve sung this same song for the entirety of our partnership,” he said snidely, glaring at me.

Normally, when he was a sarcastic ass like that, it got my hackles up and I said something shitty back, and that fast we’d be fighting. It was how it went every single time.

“It’s true,” I said instead, and I watched the instant surprise cross his gorgeous chiseled features. His eyebrows lifted, and he looked halfway between stunned and hopeful. Already this was the weirdest conversation we’d had in ages. “I want the very best for you because you’re the most—because you, you know…”

He moved closer and sat down on the bed, his hand on my knee. “I don’t know.”

I cleared my throat because the lump there needed to be dislodged so I could speak. “I love you, right? I mean, you know that.”

“I do know that,” he agreed. “I also know that you’d rather take a bullet for me than explain about your regrets.”

“I dunno, chief,” I teased him, lifting my bad shoulder just a bit. “Being shot kinda sucks, so maybe––”

“Don’t be funny,” he warned me. “Tell the truth.”

Years ago, when I had first met Miro Jones, he said I would regret not doing anything with my feelings for Bodhi. The fact that he’d only spent half a day with us and seen the love and desire on me so easily should have clued me in.

I said, “You want things.”

“I don’t want to talk about me, Jed. I want to talk about you.”

“Yeah, but you can’t consider one without the other.”

“Like?”

“Like you want kids.”

“So what? So do you, and you’re great with them, but we’re not talking about anything but the present, right here, right now, and it’s time for you to sack up and tell the truth.”

But how could I? To what end? How could ruining his life be in any way good for him?

“Don’t think about me, Jed. Think about you.”

“How?” I asked miserably.

“I’m not stupid, you know.”

“When did I ever say you were stupid?”

“No,” he stopped me, moving his hand higher up on my thigh. “Don’t pick a fight. That’s not gonna work.”