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Coury snorted and pulled back. “Playing pool isn’t really why you want to go downstairs.”
“Of course it isn’t.” He gave Coury a peck on the lips. “But since we don’t have the weekend to ourselves . . .”
It sounded petty. This would almost certainly be the last weekend Beckett visited, for a while at least. He’d recover from his breakup, assuming he and Rayna didn’t make up and get back together, and the drive would become too much. There were plenty of parties at Penn State. He wouldn’t need to come to Harrison to have fun.
“Yes, Helen. The boys are going out,” Pop said from the kitchen “If you’d like to come over and watch a movie, that would be wonderful.”
Pop shooed them away. Since when had he wanted privacy for a phone call?
Liam’s gaze landed on a picture of him and Beckett when they were younger. They’d had an epic fight on the drive that day, and his father took the picture after they had made up. He said it summed up brothers perfectly. It also spoke to why, deep down, he hesitated to tell Beckett the truth. His brother would forgive him, but Beckett might not forgive Coury.
He tried to convince himself his fear was to save Coury and Beckett’s friendship, but it wasn’t that altruistic. Losing Beckett as a friend would destroy Coury. It would taint whatever time they had left. Coury might cut things off with Liam.
That last bit was his true fear. That no matter how Beckett found out, he’d extinguish his friendship with Coury.
“Let’s go out tonight and tell him tomorrow.”
Coury looked confused. “Why?”
“Because if things go south, I want us to all enjoy tonight before he storms off.” He moved closer. “One night won’t change anything. We’ll still do it in person and we’ll still do it this weekend.”
Closing his eyes, Coury exhaled. “Fine, but tomorrow. No excuses. The fact it scares me to tell him means lying to him is wrong.”
“You’re a good person Coury.” It was one of the many things Liam found so attractive. He reached out to pull Coury close, but Coury hesitated.
“He’ll be here any minute.”
Liam laughed. “When was the last time Beckett was on time? We’ve got fifteen minutes.”
“Right but . . .” Coury’s hesitation didn’t stop him from letting Liam press their bodies together.
“Relax.” He pressed his lips to Coury’s. Coury stiffened a second before the front door swept open with a burst of cold air.
Time froze as his brother entered the house, smiling ear to ear. It couldn’t be. Beckett was always late. It was his thing.
“I’m . . . What the hell?”
Fuck! Liam jumped back.
“Helen?” Pop’s voice cut through the shock. “I need to call you back. Beckett showed up early.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Coury
Every terrible reaction Coury had envisioned played across Beckett’s face. Anger, betrayal, shock, disgust. Tomorrow was too late. They’d screwed up.
“Beckett,” Liam said. “You’re early.”
Beckett’s gaze had locked on Coury’s when he came in and it hadn’t moved. Coury’s heart stopped, and his stomach twisted into a pretzel.
“What the fuck,” he repeated. Beckett shook his head, never moving his accusing glare away.
“I . . . we were going to tell you this weekend.”
“Coury wanted to tell you before, but I talked him out of it.”
“You said you wouldn’t do this.”
“No, Beckett.” Coury’s voice found a bit of steel. “You told me not to, and I said I wouldn’t hurt him.”
“Same thing.”
“Wrong. Liam and I talked about this. He understands.”
“Bullshit.” He finally dropped his bag. “Squirt’s never had a boyfriend. He has no clue what’s going on.”
“Hey,” Liam waved a hand, but it might have been invisible to his brother. “I’m right here.”
“Give him and me a little credit. Liam’s an adult. I didn’t lead him on.”
“I pushed it, Becks, not him.”
Beckett shot Liam a glare. “So?” He turned his venomous scowl back to Coury. “All the dudes on campus, and you needed to fuck my little brother?”
“Fuck you, Beckett!” Liam stepped into his brother’s face. “You don’t know anything about me. You still act like I’m twelve and need protecting.”
“You do. If you could take care of yourself, you wouldn’t have run to Pop when someone hurt your whittle feelings.”
“Beckett!” Pop raised his voice. “That’s not how you talk to your brother, not in my house.”
“You knew about this, too.”
Coury’s phone rang and it took a second to recognize the tone. He turned it over and froze.
Everyone stopped talking; he made eye contact with Liam.
“Answer it, Coury.”
“Are you kidding me?” Beckett threw his arms out. “He’s going to take a call now?”
“Be quiet, Beckett.” Pop rarely spoke like that, but when it happened, they listened.
“Hello?”
“Coury? Coach Brophy. Is this a bad time?”
He scanned the house and felt the hostile vibes coming from everyone. “It’s fine.”
“The scout liked what he saw. He wants you to throw for him.”
