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“How about we keep the violence to a minimum?” Quinn suggested. He put a comforting hand on Parker’s arm. “If they do, then you can deal with it. But isn’t not knowing worse? What if you get even more invested emotionally, andthenthey ki—end the arrangement? It will only hurt more if you put it off.”
Will absently pushed some Smarties around the table with his fingers.
Isn’t not knowing worse?
Chapter Five
Willwasstillthinkingabout those words the next morning while he was dipping his bread soldier in his egg at the table for breakfast. The apartment was mostly quiet; it was too early for Parker to be awake, Quinn was in the shower, and Peyton and Sebastian were still in bed, though they’d been making waking noises and moving when Will had slipped out from under the covers, so they might surface soon.
Isn’t not knowing worse?
If he and Peyton counted all these years they’d spent living and sleeping together, then he and Will had the most history. But the overcharged history between Quinn and Sebastian was strong, and potent, and a physical thing between them. Quinn and Peyton’s connection had always beenpartof whatever Will and Peyton had been doing.
Will still wasn’t sure where he fit, or how. He wanted to fit. But if they decided four was too many, then would he be the first to go? What did they need him for when they had each other? What did he bring to them that they didn’t already have?
Did they even want that?
They hadn’t “the talk” either. Quinn had said they needed to and had insinuated that he was exclusive to them. Was wanting it good or bad? Saying “I want to talk” was never a good thing, but in this case, maybe it was? Or maybe—
“Will?”
Will jerked in surprise so abruptly that he knocked over one of his egg cups. He watched it roll on the plate it had been sitting on, going in circles until it had no more momentum.
“Are you alright?” Quinn asked, brushing his knuckles against Will’s cheek. “If you stare any harder at your food, it will burst into flames.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” He tried to muster up a smile and eagerly received Quinn’s exploring kiss. He made a small noise that he hoped wasn’t as desperate as it sounded. He twined his hand around Quinn’s neck as he arched his back, seeking more.
“Is that what we’re having for breakfast now?” Sebastian asked close behind them.
Will broke away with a smile and admired the sight of him in just a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. Well, the glasses too. They only added to the allure. He had sheet lines across his chest and some red marks that had been courtesy of them last night before they’d exhausted themselves and fallen sleep. The cut on his forehead was healing and looked smaller on his pale face than it had just a few days ago. Will was glad; looking at it only reminded him of how he’d gotten it and how close they had been to something worse happening.
“Yeah, come get your serving,” Quinn said.
Will sat back, getting comfortable so he could enjoy the show. He didn’t expect Quinn to coax Sebastian down to give Will a kiss instead. His eyes slid closed as Sebastian’s warm lips pressed to his, and his tongue stroked slowly and deliberately, sending tingles across his skin.
“Good morning,” Sebastian murmured, smiling warmly as he pulled away to greet Quinn the same way.
“Hello,” Will repeated automatically, his brain still in “off” mode.
“My turn,” Peyton declared, and then another set of lips was on Will’s, not allowing his brain to recover as Peyton’s talented tongue turned him inside out.
They all began moving around the kitchen and getting coffee—with some grumbles from Sebastian about only having instant available.
“There are some eggs on the stove if you want soldiers,” Will said. They’d still be warm. And still kind of runny because he’d taken them out of the boiling water.
Peyton put some bread in the toaster and hiked himself up to sit on the counter one handed. It was impressive but Will was still worried that he wasn’t resting his shoulder properly.
Peyton tugged Sebastian between his legs and lifted his arm so he could take a sip of his coffee.
“I need to tell you something,” Sebastian said to Quinn. “It’s about the murder you investigated yesterday.”
Quinn frowned over the rim of his mug. He leaned against the table, his hip near Will’s arm. “I hesitate to ask how you know anything about it.”
“I don’t know as much as you think. But Hunter and Jericho paid me a visit at the office yesterday.”
Will dunked one of his Vegemite soldiers in the runny middle of his egg. “Who is Jericho?”
“You’d know him better as Warren Boiler,” Sebastian said.
