AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When I turned back to Beck, he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I guess I should shower and try to eat something.”
I nodded. “Finish drinking that first.”
He turned the bottle in his hands. “I didn’t think we had much in the fridge…”
“Yeah, I made a grocery run this morning. I knew you’d be hungover, and I wanted to have something decent for you to eat and drink.”
He looked surprised. “Thanks, man.”
I shrugged. “No big. I was gonna grab you a greasy meal from the diner too, but Andi insisted on cooking. I think she feels bad for invading. She was, uh, up last night when I got you home from the club.”
Beckett grimaced. “Shit. I wish she wasn’t seeing this.”
“I’m sorry. Do you want me to ask her to find another place to go? Because if this is too much…”
“No way. How would we even explain that?”
“We could think of something.”
Beckett shook his head. “No, I overreacted. I’m sorry.”
“Maybe I under-reacted.” My voice choked up a little as I added, “I don’t want you to be afraid to be around me.”
“I’m not,” Beckett said quickly. At my skeptical look, he sighed. “Okay, maybe I was freaked out about sharing a bed again, but that’s not about you. It’s about me and the situation and…you know, everything that’s happened.”
“I just want to make sure we’re okay.”
“We’re always okay,” Beckett said. “We’re bros first, right?”
“Always.” I stood up. “I’ll let you take that shower. Probably best I don’t make Andi wonder what the heck we’re talking about.”
Beck smiled wickedly. “Just tell her we’re plotting new ways to decapitate her Barbie.”
I laughed as I headed for the door. “Harsh, man.”
But I was relieved that Beck seemed more like his old self this morning. When I’d gotten that call to pick him up and found him falling-down drunk, I’d been scared that I’d already lost him. From now on, I’d tread more carefully.
No more spontaneous jerkoffs. No more teasing and flirting.
I’d rather have Beck as my bro than nothing at all.
* * *
BECKETT
“You two are quiet tonight,”Laurie said, his eyes far too perceptive across the table at The Stag Pub, where Wes and I had joined our friends for our regular bar trivia night. Our team, Smarty Pints, had won last season’s tournament—mostly thanks to Clark, the history teacher in our midst.
“Beck’s still hungover,” Wes said. “He apparently forgot he was a lightweight last night.”
I flipped him the bird. “I would have drunk you under the table if you’d been there.”
“Would not.”
“Would too.”
“Would not.”
“Would too!”
