Page 141 of Oddly Fine

That same commanding tone made Hayes go crazy at times. It seemed to have the same effect on the stud, since he hastily reached for his beer and chugged it all in one go.

“Oh, look! He swallows!” Beckett exclaimed, cracking himself up as Jeremy finished his beer and thunked the empty glass down in front of him.

“My place or yours?” Jeremy asked them, gamely.

“Unless you want a group project with a mob boss and a granny—yours,” Beckett replied with a wicked grin.

Although the young cop looked puzzled by that strange answer, he rose swiftly and led the way out without a single word of complaint.

They had not had nearly enough to drink to calm Hayes’ nerves. It had been different with Thalia. First, he hadn’t known what was about to happen until he’d been drawn into the middle of Beckett’s plan. Second, he’d been on familiar ground. He’d been with far more women than men, taking into consideration that Beckett was his first ever same-sex encounter. This—the three of them standing in an elevator, heading to Jeremy’s apartment, perfectly aware what they were going there to do, but acting perfectly innocent when in public—was unknown territory.

Beckett, on the other hand, looked perfectly relaxed. Hayes supposed it made sense, since his partner didn’t just handle himself well during periods of chaos—he fucking thrived on it. So, in essence, this was a cakewalk for him. Not so much for Hayes.

“I’m planning to buy my own place, but—” Officer Lavigne—Jeremy, Hayes reminded himself—was talking about the apartment he rented. Beckett had roped Jeremy into a conversation about residential properties, as if Beckett knew all about the market in Montreal. When Hayes had met Beckett, the guy had been renting an apartment the size of a shoe box—and not because of a lack of funds, but rather because he gave no shits.

“Real estate is crazy these days,” Beckett agreed. “It can be a fucking crack den with squirrels living in the attic, and they’ll advertise the place as a charming one bedroom with lots of natural light and nature preserve views,” he joked. Whether he could sense Hayes’ increasing discomfort or was simply playing up his role, he reached for Hayes’ hand and squeezed it firmly. They rarely held hands. Generally, when Beckett did reach for his hands, it was because Hayes’ right hand had been shaking.

“Exactly,” Jeremy snorted. “Do you guys own your place?”

Jeremy was openly curious about them. He kept trying to disguise his prying by projecting an air of innocence and nonchalance, but Hayes knew he was gathering as much information as he could, any way he could. His sincerity and eagerness to know more about them was flattering, despite the intrusiveness of his questions.

“Yeah, Daisy already owned the condo before I moved in,” Beckett answered, shrugging.

“And just a year in, too,” Jeremy said, both amused and admiring.

“I know—what are we, lesbians?”

Hayes didn’t get Beckett’s joke, but Jeremy did, his laugh spontaneous and genuine.

“Our job kind of expedited the move,” Beckett explained.

“You needed to move closer to work?” Jeremy asked, as the elevator finally reached his floor.

“Kind of a long story—”

“But I bet it’s a good one!” Jeremy smiled warmly at Beckett. Although initially he’d been interested in pursuing Hayes, it was now glaringly obvious that he too had succumbed to Beckett’s magnetic charm and wildly entertaining quirkiness.

Hayes could readily identify with that process—it hadn’t taken long for him to be sucked into that same vortex. It was more than a little satisfying to watch Beckett work his magic on Jeremy, knowing that, in the end, Hayes was going to reap the benefits. Soon, very soon.

“It involves the Italian Mafia, a snitching feline, and lotttttssss of red tape,” he summarised as the elevator doors opened. As Jeremy stepped out ahead of them, Beckett turned to Hayes, wariness in his gaze.

“You alright?” he leaned in close and whispered.

“Marvelously fine,” Hayes replied softly and snickered, mostly just to irritate him.

Beckett rolled his eyes, but oddly enough, he didn’t let go of his hands, he just—pulled him down the hallway to follow Jeremy.

The apartment was charming and modest. While the furnishings were limited and rather bland, the place was clean and well maintained.

“How about a drink?” Jeremy asked, closing the door behind them and then walking towards his bar while Hayes and Beckett looked around.

“Anything but Peach Schnapps,” Beckett replied with a full-body shudder.

Jeremy pulled out three cocktail glasses, pouring a shot of amber liquid—Hayes assumed it was bourbon—into each one and handed them out.

“To finding friends in strange places?” Jeremy proposed a toast with a cocky grin.

Hayes knocked his glass against Beckett’s and then Jeremy’s. He finished his drink first, and then watched Jeremy drink his, admiring the view. The simmering heat he’d felt earlier at the bar was more intense now, growing hotter when Beckett leaned over and kissed him right beneath his ear.