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Teague expelled a breath. “Butch, you’re bi. You like women but you like guys too. You don’t fuck guys because it’s convenient—you fuck ’em because it feelsgood. Now do yourself a favor and just admit it.”
“Is this how you talk to a friend?” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but the words rolled around inside his head and he couldn’t form them into a coherent pattern.
“But you’re not treating me like a friend, more like a friend with benefits.”
Butch stared at him. “You agreed to this, remember?” Then the word came to him. “You gave your consent.”
“Okay, fine, there’s consent, but this has become a one-sided deal in your favor. When we first started out, it was all about gettingourneeds satisfied. We got off together. But what’s going on here?” He gestured to the cabin. “Thisis not equal. So like we agreed back when this started… I’m calling a halt. You deserve better.Ideserve better.”
And there they were, at the end of the road.
Butch finished his cigarette and stubbed it out on the porch. “I guess there isn’t a lot left to say.”
“I can think of one thing, and it’s important.” Butch gave him an inquiring glance, and Teague took a deep breath. “I said all these things because I had to, all right? Because someone needed to say them. But we have to work together. I don’t want this to sour things between us. I reallydowant you for a friend.”
“As well as an aggravating older brother.”
He chuckled. “That too. Everyone deserves a little happiness, and I don’t think you’ll find yours if you keep deluding yourself. So… am I forgiven for speaking my mind?”
Butch didn’t want to lose him either.
“You’re forgiven.” Teague let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, and Butch smiled. “You made for an excellent pressure release valve, though.”
Teague coughed. “Well, I’ve been called many things, but never that.” He leaned forward, gazing out into the darkness. “But while we’re on the subject, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you for some time now, but I never found the right moment.”
“This would seem to be that moment,” Butch observed. “If you can’t say it now, you never will.”
Teague paused. “Fucking is not a good coping mechanism.”
Butch stared at him once more, and then burst into laughter. “I don’t know about that. It’s always worked for me.”
“Then maybe it’s time you found another one.”
Butch inclined his head toward the cabin. “Think you could make us some coffee? I don’t feel like heading back to the bunkhouse and sleeping. It’ll soon be time to get up anyhow.”
“Sure—on one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“You look me in the eye and tell me I’m right.”
It was on the tip of Butch’s tongue to deny him that, but a wave of mental fatigue crashed over him.
Teague had been right. Butch owed him the truth.
“I… I like guys too.”
Teague’s face glowed in the warm light through the window. “Thank you. That means a lot. Doesn’t that feel better?” He got up. “And now I’ll make that coffee.” He squeezed Butch’s shoulder and went inside.
Butch wished he had another cigarette. He sure needed one right then.
But he’s right. I feel better.
Butch doubted anyone working on the ranch would raise an eyebrow if he suddenly came out and announced he was bi. Hell, they’d probably laugh their asses off and say “About fuckin’ time.”
That didn’t mean he was ready to share other stuff. But with the prospect of Sol arriving within the next twenty-four hours, more revelations were a distinct possibility.
That did it. Butch would be spending most of the following week keeping out of Sol’s way. And if their paths should cross?
