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And now we were back in the same position as before. Hooking up behind his brother’s back, possibly awaiting a confession of love from him. He had left after our lunch at Juno Pine’s and never told us whatever it was he held back. I asked, even when Jason wasn’t around, I asked him if there was anything he needed to talk to me about. He gave me an oddly heavy look before his lips flipped into a smile, and he promised me that it was nothing.
But what if it wasn’t nothing? What if Harry really did have feelings for me? I knew that the right thing to do would be to tell him that I didn’t reciprocate those feelings, but then what? How could Jason and I be an open and happy couple in front of him, knowing that us holding hands might as well be us slapping him across the face? I was an expert at determining outcomes in difficult situations through how well I understood the human mind, yet I couldn’t foresee how this could work without hurting someone in the process.
I just really didn’t want that hurt to land on me.
Again.
Barks, Birds, and Booze was having an adoption event at the front of the store, drawing a crowd of potential fur-parents to the row of playpens and kennels. Shelly, the pet store’s owner, waved at me and went back to holding up an angelic-looking calico kitten as a couple clearly felt love at first sight. Houston sat on a perch nearby, his yellow crest bobbing as he got some head scratches from one of the employees. I walked around her and through the sliding glass doors.
Phillip Smith stood there wearing a smile as bright as the yellow-and-pink long-sleeved button-up that seemed to absorb the bright afternoon sunlight, the clothes popping against his dark skin, a silver chain around his neck catching my attention. He wasn’t there alone either.
Jason was back. He’d arrived at the same time as Phillip. My eyes instantly went to him, drinking him up like a refreshing glass of raspberry lemonade. It had only been a couple of hours since I last saw Jace, who was wearing a simple black shirt and light blue jeans, and that had been enough to make me salivate over the sight of him all over again.
God damn this man has a hold on me.
I turned my attention back to Phillip, his hand extended, his sharp jawbones catching the light and bouncing them up to his light brown eyes. “Hey, Dr. Smith, thanks for coming out on such short notice.”
“Please, Agent, call me Phill.”
Phill held the handshake a little longer than normal. His eyes seemed tuned to mine, and his smirk slid into a more devilish kind of grin. I recognized that grin, along with the sparkling glint in the handsome man’s eyes. The way he subtly licked his lips and how he stood leaning toward me—barely perceptible, but there.
Phill laughed, hands going into the pockets of his skinny black pants. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t expect an FBI agent to look just like they do on the TV shows.”
And there it was: confirmation. Phillip was flirting with me. I could see Jace from the corner of my eye, standing there and watching. Was that a flush in his face?
It was a dick move. My old ways were breaking through, and I couldn’t help it. Pain held on to the steering wheel and drove me directly off the cliff. Jason had hurt me. He did, and I couldn’t deny that the dull throb of what he had done still ached inside my heart.
Along with the fear of it happening all over again.
“Says the one who looks like a movie star.”
He chuckled. Jason winced. I didn’t intend on going past a silly little line or two—ever. I didn’t want to hurt Jace like that. I’d never hurt him. He was my number one, always had been. I just needed to make sure I was his.
“All right,” Jason said abruptly, “let’s get up to the office.”
17
JASON QUILL
Well… this wasn’t exactly fun.
Matthew and Phill were clearly flirting. I half expected Phill’s jaw to unhinge so he could swallow Matt whole right there and then. It took me quite a bit of willpower to not roll my eyes as we walked through the pet store and up the stairs to the Stonewall offices, Phill continuing his cocky compliment tour, talking about how Matt’s smile was “magnetic” and his eyes were “sharp” and blah blah blah blah.
Seriously, how many flirty comments could be fit into a four-minute walk? I counted about fifteen by the time we reached the conference room, the three of us squeezing past Ryan and Mark and taking our seats at the end of the table. Phill set his briefcase on the table and unclipped the latches. I noticed he seemed to be sitting awfully close to Matt, who drank up the attention like a bear waking up from hibernation, gulping down from the closest water source he could find.
