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Tony grinned. “You think ménages are hereditary?”
Rhys chuckled. “No, I don’t. Listen…it’s been clear from the beginning that we’re both attracted to Jess. And having her here, living with us, it’s blurred some lines that might have remained in focus if we weren’t in such close quarters all the time.”
“My focus is crystal clear,” Tony asserted.
“Is it? Because I think we can both admit that kissing her like that was impulsive. We didn’t think it through, didn’t play it out.”
Tony appreciated Rhys’s willingness to share the blame for something he’d instigated. “We would never kick Jess out, never put her and Jasper back on the street. You know that.”
Rhys nodded. “I do. But Jess has lived her entire life being let down by people. Every single person.”
“We won’t let her down.”
Rhys sighed. “Those are just words. I’m afraid they don’t stack up against a lifetime of actions—she’s watched everyone walk away, and those scars run deep. Jasper will always—as he should—come first. There’s nothing she won’t do, nothing she won’t sacrifice for that kid. I respect the hell out of her for that.”
Tony ran his hand through his hair, hating every word Rhys spoke, even though he knew his friend was right. “I do too, but—”
“There can’t be abut, Tony,” Rhys interjected.
There couldn’t.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” Rhys said. “Fuck.”
