Page 71 of The Triangle

“It just did, bru.” And he has the nerve to snicker at me. Like this is some fantastic joke.

My fist hits his jaw and wipes that smirk right off his fucking face.

And then I lose track of everything. He hits me back. Christine is yelling something. Time blurs. Seconds meld into each other. There’s a sharp pain in the side of my head, my knuckles splitting open as I connect with his ear. Taste of blood in my mouth as I’m pushed up against the glass. I hit it so hard I wait for the inevitable shattering that never comes. And there’s no time to think about that because Alec is on me. The way he was on Curtis that day at the gym.

But I’m not Curtis and I have no plans of going down like him, either.

He swings, I block with my left and connect again. His lip splits and he bends over. Then rams me in the stomach with his head, crashing me against the window again. His arms wrap around my waist and he presses himself into me. Almost hugging me.

“Get the fuck off me,” I growl.

“Stop it!” Christine is still yelling. She’s tugging on him, and me, and her fucking breasts are swinging—so goddamned distracting I pause, giving Alec the break he needs to twist my arm around my back, forcing me to turn into the window.

He holds me like that. Just enough pressure on my arm to make the threat of a dislocated shoulder real. Then a jerk—pain shoots up my arm—to hammer that home.

“You know what your problem is, man?” he growls, his words low and angry right up against my ear.

“You,” I growl back.

He gives me another jerk, and as the shooting pain runs up my arm, I decide… fuck Brasil. I’m gonna finish this job myself. I turn, weight on my left leg as my right leg sweeps behind him, hooks his ankle and as he goes down, I wrap both arms around his legs, taking away the major threat.

But I’m in control for less than a second. Even after all these years apart, Alec is as familiar with my moves as I am with his. His forearm catches me under the chin as he pushes my head to the side, and quick as that—he’s out from under me, getting to his feet.

I’m on my feet too, and we circle each other. Half crouched. His cock—slightly hard from the sex we just had, or maybe the fight turns him on, who the fuck knows—swings back and forth.

“I might be biased,” Alec says, spitting blood onto the floor. “but I agree that it’s perfect. Feel free to stare, my boet.”

“You guys!” Christine shouts. “Enough!”

“Not yet, nunu,” Alec says. “We’re just getting started. But don’t worry, Danny’ll be back in the old bed as soon as he gets it all out of his system.”

“I will, but you won’t,” I snarl back.

“Why are you so goddamn uptight, Fortnight? Jesus Christ. Your hang-ups are starting to bore me.”

“Is that what you think this is?” We continue to circle each other. Eyes locked. Hands in front of us, fingers spread wide, each waiting for an opening. “Shame?” I laugh, then lunge, hitting him in the chest the way he got me. He goes reeling backwards down the stupid hamster-tube hallway, but doesn’t lose his footing.

I probably should’ve anticipated the position this would put me in a little bit better… because I get a good long look at his cock and then a slap, as it swings up to hit me in the chin.

Alec laughs. “Don’t bite now, Danny. That’s a rule I have no matter who has their head between my legs.”

I push harder. He pushes back. For two eternal moments we’re immovable forces. Equal and opposite in every way. And then…

He gives in and we go reeling—me forward, him backwards. His back crashes into the floor and I crash into him. Instantly his leg wraps around me, his hard cock pressing into the muscles that line my waist, and we trade positions.

The next thing I know I’m face down, in a head lock, and he’s got his lips pressed up against my ear. His breath flows into me with his words. “Why don’t you ever believe me, Danny?”

“OK, that’s enough!” Christine is yelling. I think she’s been saying shit like that on repeat since we started fighting, but I lost track of sound so I’m not really sure.

“Because nothing you tell me is true,” I hiss back, barely able to get the words past the pressure of his forearm against my throat.

“Everything I say is true.”

“Ha,” is all I can manage. I might be blacking out.

He eases up and the blood begins to flow to my brain. The fuzzy feeling fades as Alec lifts his body up off mine, allowing me to turn over so I’m no longer pressed face first into the floor. Just as quick, he leans down again. Pressing his chest against mine as he grabs my hair with both hands and gives me a shake. “What do you want from me? A ring? A wedding? Do you need a dress and a cake and dancing under the stars?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? And get the fuck off me, asshole.”