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Meaning I dug out some frozen vegetables from Blair’s freezer and am making a quick stir-fry to soften the blow.
“We’re both going to cave, aren’t we?” Blair asks from where he’s leaning on the counter beside me. “I think we have a few beers in there and maybe one of those canned sangria things Noah likes.”
I sigh, my smile automatic. “Hell yes we will. He should be fine with one beer.”
“I just hate seeing him unhappy, you know? At the very least, if he’s gonna drink it’s with us in a safe environment.”
There’s nothing awkward about the silence that falls between us, just the sizzling of the vegetables in the pan, Shiloh and Noah’s laughter from the couch.
As I switch off the eye, there’s a victory “Woot!”, and Blair and I both chuckle. I reach into the fridge and grab a can of beer and set it on the counter, catching the shake of Blair’s head out of the corner of my eye.
“How did we both wind up wrapped around his finger?”
I shrug and pull a couple of bowls out of the cabinet above the sink. “Shiloh is enigmatic. I don’t think he realizes how charmed most people are with him.”
“Unless they were an absolute asshole, I’ve never met someone who didn’t immediately fall in love with him.” He glances over at me with a look in his eyes that I can’t read.
He takes the bowl I offer him, and when his fingers brush mine, a wave of heat rolls over me. My mind pops in the image it conjured earlier; the one of me pulling Blair off his knees to slot our mouths together.
My cheeks burn as I duck away, overwhelmed with the urge to reach for him. I finger the phone in my pocket and contemplate sending B a quick message to let him know I’m not ghosting him, but that’s exactly what I’m doing, isn’t it?
“Atlas?” Blair’s voice in my ear and his hand on my shoulder draws me out of my thoughts.
“I’m fine,” I say and grab the two bowls to bring over to Shiloh and Noah, tucking the beer under my arm. “When’s the last time you had to do one of Shiloh’s dares?”
Blair has his bowl and the last one, setting them on the opposite end of the coffee table from the ones I hand to the others.
“Not long enough that I’ve forgotten I have to give him boundaries like,” he pauses and leans around where I’ve sat on the couch to lock eyes with Shiloh, “Nobody leaves the apartment, nobody gets blackout drunk, and nothing that can be considered sexual harassment. Genitals stay clothed.”
Shiloh rolls his eyes. “Yes, because I want my genitals on display in front of my brother.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
I dangle the beer can near Shiloh but move it out of his reach before he can grab it.
“Community beer. One sip per skip. No downing the whole thing.”
Shiloh kicks my shin but doesn’t try for the can again. I set it down on the table as he picks up his food and starts eating.
Thirty seconds later, he’s downed his food faster than humanly possible, and I try not to choke on my own at his blatant enthusiasm.
The first few rounds of the game are simple, and we irritate the fuck out of Shiloh by playing around him as long as we can to keep him from giving a dare.
He gets us back, though, and barely twenty minutes into the game we’ve all taken several drinks from the can.
“Alright.” Shiloh takes a swig of the beer even though he hasn’t skipped a single dare. “Blair. Truth or Dare?”
Blair has a slight rosy hue to his cheeks, having skipped the most turns out of all of us. He readjusts his hair in the elastic, but it only makes the flush more pronounced.
“Truth.”
The mischievous glint in Shiloh’s eyes isn’t promising.
“Big brother,” he starts. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
Blair goes stock-still, wide eyes flying straight to mine. His lips part, and he looks away just as quickly, pulling his lip between his teeth.
“What do you consider getting laid?” He asks, picking up the beer can and holding it in his hands.
