“I’m sorry for waking you up like this.”
“Like I said, it isn’t my place.” Rory shrugged, aiming for casual. “If Jen doesn’t mind, who am I to argue?”
Rig couldn’t hide the small wince. “It’s not Jen I’m worried about and you know it. That’s why I’m here. I was afraid that after I threw all that shit at you, you’d shut me out. Shut us out before I could fix it.”
“What’s there to fix?” Rory pushed himself off the bed and headed for the shower in the hallway off his bedroom, feeling Rig’s gaze on him and his semi. What the hell, right? Rory didn’t have anything he hadn’t seen before.
Or touched. Or sucked. Or bent over and begged for.
He needed to stop.
“It happened,” he continued instead, ignoring his rising arousal. “You were upfront about what happened, even if it was after the fact, and you obviously enjoyed it. You wouldn’t be torturing yourself if you hadn’t.” And David would have told me. Maybe.
He stepped under the hot spray, fiddling with the extra knobs while Rig’s blurry form paced on the other side of the frosted partial wall. He needed to enjoy that, for a week, he had a bathroom that was big enough for someone like Rig to pace in.
He wondered what else they could do in this bathroom.
Stop. Maybe he should spend this week looking for a new apartment. That might get his mind off his problems. And his erection.
“Don’t act like nothing’s wrong,” Rig demanded. “You can fool a lot of people with that blasé bullshit, but not me. You were such a mess last night you wouldn’t even let me help you walk in a straight damn line. I thought you were going to write me off for good.”
Rory leaned his head wearily against the tile. “I was surprised, Rig, that’s all. And yeah, a little hurt that no one filled me in on everything that’s been going on.” Broken. Lost. “But I’ll never be the one to write you off. Either of you. No matter what happens.”
He couldn’t say the same for them. David had disappeared for months after last New Year’s, and Rig had a tendency to get distracted with his hobbies, his sexual conquests and his own ever-growing number of relatives. Neither of them needed him the way he needed them. It would be so easy for those two to drift away if Rory didn’t play his cards right.
Which meant trying to keep his mouth shut.
“We’re okay, Rig,” Rory assured him, trying to sound sincere. “I’m okay.”
Eventually, I won’t be lying.
“Professor Kelley wasn’t so sure you were.”
Fuck me. What the hell had Declan said to him? A sick feeling of dread landed like a lump in his stomach as he realized how much he’d given away to Jen and her sexy triad.
Everything.
After he’d gotten sick, he’d opened his mouth again and instead of hot saucy eggs or regurgitated liquor, truth came pouring out. It was so much worse than Brady’s experience with the rum. So much worse than alcohol poisoning.
Rory’s turn at Drunk Confessional was already biting him in the ass.
He wasn’t over-share guy. He wasn’t even regular-share guy, unless it was sexual in nature and might make someone uncomfortable. Some things weren’t anybody’s business, especially the kind of feelings that could be used against you. Now Jennifer and her two dicks had all the cards because apparently hot sauce was a fucking truth serum as well as a hangover cure.
Soon enough everyone would know why he’d started his cleanse—which was the topic Jen was most interested in pursuing if memory served. They’d know that after David asked for space, Rory had spent months overindulging in meaningless sex to the point of gluttony. No finesse, no gameplay, just desperate distraction with any warm and willing body/bodies.
He’d become the insensitive, shallow embodiment of Sodom and Gomorrah that Elder had always accused him of being. All because he couldn’t let himself think about the fact that he might have lost David for good. That he was responsible for shattering their platonic threesome into irreparable pieces.
Rory told them how gradually the three friends had started meeting up again after Rig had reached out. Drinks here and there, dinners under Nonna Gina’s protective eye. He told them how he’d decided to never let anyone bring up the Mistletoe Meltdown for fear of rocking their fragile new boat in spite of David’s initial frustration and Rig’s continued consternation.
Rory knew his moratorium on the subject was stopping them from moving completely past it, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He hadn’t wanted the autopsy. Didn’t want to think about why David took a break from him. Why he’d needed space after their kiss. He just wanted his friends—and with them his life—back.
He told Jen all of that, and even mentioned that his cleanse was a kind of penance for crossing the line with David. Something to remind him about what was really important. Who was really important.
They’d thought he was making it a bigger deal than it was.
Just one kiss. And instead of the harmless, biweekly fantasy sessions he’d had for years, sex with David had become Rory’s daily obsession. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wanting it. Dying for it. And then he couldn’t stop hating himself for pushing David away with the desire he couldn’t control.
A desire his cleanse was doing absolutely nothing to rein in now.
He turned another knob in the shower and felt pressured water hit his body from so many different directions his hard-on came back with a vengeance. And so did Rig’s words.
“Professor Kelley likes to hear himself talk. It’s why he does it for a living. I’m fine. Better than fine at the moment. You should seriously try this after I’m done. It’s almost better than sex. Maybe I need to be a tycoon instead of a first responder. I could get used to this kind of luxury.”
“We could always find you a sugar daddy.”
“Don’t let my baby blues fool you, daddies and I are a bad mix. You know I’m more a ‘tipsy soccer player who doesn’t know he’s a bottom’ kind of guy.” And a hot Italian who loves being a bottom kind of guy…
He could hear Rig’s snort through the curtain of water and steam. “Maybe you should change your type, Finn. You work too hard, you eat like shit… Caregiver or not, you need a keeper.”
Rory washed his hair to keep his hands away from his cock. Think of something else. “You sound more like your grandmother every day.” Bingo. “She tells me that on a weekly basis. Of course, she says it with kisses, cookies and leftovers, so I always assumed she was auditioning for the job.”
“You can’t steal my Nonna, asshole.” Rig’s arm appeared in front of him, turning off the water abruptly. “You’re clean. Now get out here and cover yourself so I can say what I need to.”
Rory flinched as a plush towel whacked him in the face and laughed in surprise. “I’m the one with the hangover, right?” He rubbed himself down and wrapped the towel around his neck defiantly, his erection still clearly visible. “The one who had his keys nabbed? The guy who got surprised by the BFF BJ bombshell last night? Why are you in a mood?”
Rig scraped his hand over his jaw, his gaze lingering on Rory’s body before he started muttering and stomped out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rory had no choice but to follow. In the bedroom, he gave up and grabbed the jeans he’d tossed on the floor before passing out last night.
If he was staying here for a week he needed to run home and grab some actual clothes. “I’m covered now. So talk.”
His friend’s turbulent eyes flashed. “I’m officially done with this shit.”
A knife in his gut couldn’t have hurt more. “What do you mean? Done with what?” Me? Us? Why?
Rig’s expression softened and he moved closer, one big hand cupping Rory’s shoulder. “Don’t look at me like that, that’s not what I mean.” His thumb rubbed the missed droplets of water into Rory’s skin absently. An unconsciously sensual touch that stole Rory’s breath.
“Everything I’m saying is coming out wrong. I’m sorry about last night, s
orry I didn’t give you any warning, but if I had, I know you’d have found an excuse to avoid me until I let it go. I needed to get your attention.”
“I can guarantee you got it,” Rory said, relief pouring through him like adrenaline. Rig wasn’t done with him. He leaned into his touch. “I’m all ears.”
All ears? Aim lower.
Rig tugged him closer, his thoughtful gaze drifting over Rory’s features. “Good. I’m going to need you to listen closely. One of us needs to start the fucking honesty circle, and after all this time I can see it’s not going to be you or David without a push. So I’m pushing. I’m done being Switzerland for the two of you. It’s exhausting. I’m done putting off what I want and watching you punish yourself by keeping us at a distance. Especially when what needs to happen next is so fucking simple.”
Rory swallowed, restraining himself from kissing Rig into submissive silence. “What’s simple? What’s next?”
“Us. Clearing the air. You and David. You and me. I’m talking about putting everything on the table, the way friends do.” His stepped back and dropped his hands, looking more determined than Rory had ever seen him. “Thanks to Jen, we have a window of opportunity right here. Today.”
Too soon. “Today might not be—”
“Today. You and David are the most important people in my life and I can feel us slipping away,” Rig pressed. “And we’re not going to waste another year, another month, another week being too gutless to hash this out, Finn.”
Rory couldn’t stop shaking his head. “This is a bad idea. It might be your worst, and you’ve had some beauties. We don’t want to put everything on the table. Maybe you and David need to talk about what comes next with you two but—”
He held up his wide palm to stop Rory’s rambling. “Us two?” He groaned. “The fact that you don’t know… Fuck. I didn’t want to do this, but I’m officially calling in my favor.”
“Son of a bitch,” Rory breathed out in shock. To Rig, the favor was sacrosanct. Each of them got one, only one, and it was a request that couldn’t be denied. All these years, and none of them had been in a situation dire enough to waste it. “Are you sure about this?”
He was. “This is what I’m getting in return. Total honesty. I’ll expect you to follow these rules for the duration, at least when it comes to talking. No distractions, no lying to spare anyone’s feelings and no running away. For the next few days we’re playing Extreme Truth or Dare, and you can’t back out of it the way you backed out of our trip last March. The way you’ve been backing out of everything lately.”
Rory couldn’t get over it. Rig was using his one favor now. For this.
Total honesty. No backing out. Rig didn’t know what he was asking for.
“This isn’t going to end well, Anthony.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” he agreed quietly. “But I’m not changing my mind. One way or another this limbo ends.”
Chapter Four
“Are you for or against anal sex?”
“What?” David Mills choked on his water and set his glass down on the kitchen counter, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and eyeing his sister suspiciously. “That’s the first question? You just opened the box and found that right on top?”
Essie’s dark brown eyes sparkled over the laminated card. “Actually, the first question was have you ever used a strap-on, but I thought that one might be too shocking for your vanilla-flavored ears. Plus I know all your exes. None of them were that adventurous.”
He turned his gaze toward his sister-in-law Janice, who’d set down the bottle of wine she’d been opening because she was too busy laughing her ass off to hold onto it. “You told me the game she wanted me to play was like Cards Against Humanity.”
Janice pushed her sleek blonde hair behind her ears and wiped her fingers beneath her eyes. She’d had an early morning at the art gallery so she was still wearing makeup and dressed in her cream-colored power suit. He knew it wouldn’t be long before she was back in her usual uniform of shorts and old concert t-shirts, but the card game distracted her.
“It is. They both need Not Safe For Work warnings if you actually agree to play them on camera. She asked me first, but I said no. I mean, if we’re voting, I’m all for strap-ons and open to anniversary anal play, but I have no desire to say that in front of your viewers. Specifically that one viewer. I call her Mom.”
David closed his eyes at her TMI comment and tried not to think about his own recent conclusions about anal. Not here. “I’ll pass too. I’m not playing sexual twenty-questions with my sister. We may talk about Game of Thrones online, but we aren’t dressing up to role-play the incestuous siblings for her audience.”
“Our audience. And if we dressed up that would be cosplay, David. Get your terminology straight.” Essie fiddled with her black-framed glasses and blew her bangs off her forehead. “Anyway, this is for you to play with Tweedlehot and Tweedlehotter this week. If Rig and Rory agree to do it—or anything else in their racy wheelhouse—on camera? All the better for me.”
He snorted. Which one was Tweedlehotter? “Essie.”
“David,” she echoed mockingly. “You told me we needed to keep our content fresh and exciting. You also told me you wanted to finally have some quality time with a certain Finn sexpot to—what was it again—see where things went? Now you have five whole days to solve that manly Jenga puzzle and I won’t bother you for anything. Much. Okay I want visitation with his cousin’s puppies and Rig has to cook something for me, but that’s it.”
Essie was a force of nature and she’d come out to her family at the ripe old age of twelve. She’d been concerned when David first admitted to kissing Rory and his reaction to it last year but not judgmental. Also, she admitted, she was moderately relieved that she hadn’t been crazy for wondering about it for years. “You showed him more affection than any of the girls you brought home. You were always touching him. Keeping him close.”
Leave it to her to notice that when he hadn’t.
She’d helped him talk things out and even agreed with his decision to take a step back. This was too big and he’d needed to be sure. When she’d realized that what he was feeling wasn’t going away, that his obsession was only growing with time, she gave him her full support and started looking for ways she could “help out.”
Essie’s full support was sometimes hard to take, but he’d embraced it, as well as the conversations he’d been having with Rig about his realizations. He needed all the help he could get at this point. Especially if they were hoping to pin down the infamously elusive Rory Finn.
David knew his old friend had a thing for straight guys and an allergy to committed relationships. Just like everyone knew David was the opposite. A serial monogamist. He loved the ease and security being part of a couple had given him, and could never understand why Rory hadn’t dated anyone in over eight years. More men than he could count had tried and failed to be his exception over the years. Even Rig had a returning play partner now and then, but Rory was never tempted. Not once.
Maybe it was because he’d had it too easy in the sex department. Rory was too seductive for his own good. He had an easy charm, hypnotic blue eyes and a way of moving that reminded David of a graceful feline.
“Years of gymnastics,” he’d shrug lazily when a stranger hit on him and asked how flexible he could be. “But I’ll let you decide for yourself.”
His cockiness was almost as irresistible as his smile.
David had seen it all at a distance, but as his friend, that side of Rory’s personality never really touched him. It was different when they were alone. With David, Rory was wholly himself, loyal to a fault and just as protective as Essie had always been.
David had been protective of him as well.
Despite being a member of the large Finn family, when they’d met Rory had initially reminded David of a foster kid he’d known in Oregon. Everyone knew him but no one really got him. His external perfection hid a yearning soul that David f
elt compelled to know. He’d wanted to be near him, maybe take some of those unexplained shadows away from his eyes.
The friendship had changed the course of his life in so many ways he couldn’t imagine where he’d be without it. When Rig had rounded out their trio, David remembered sensing that everything was exactly as it should be. They would always be friends. Rory would always be in his life.
But then that kiss.
As much as he’d initially wanted to, he couldn’t pretend that Rory’s kiss hadn’t shaken him to his marrow. He loved women, grew up surrounded by some of the best examples of the gender and he’d always thought he enjoyed sex as much as the next guy. But the instant their lips touched, he knew that Rory’s kiss would be better than any sexual encounter he’d ever had. And God, it had been.
Something had growled and leapt to life inside him, something almost feral that scared the hell out of him. He’d never known need like that existed. Never experienced it firsthand. There were no romantic cellos or angel choirs in that compulsive tangle of tongues and need. It was dark and gritty, gnashing and greedy and so fucking perfect he’d almost come in his pants in front of Rory’s entire family. Just from a kiss.
He’d never felt that intensely about…anything.
It rattled him.
At first he’d managed to push the post-kiss analysis off to the side. To see his new awareness as a wakeup call. The punch in the face he’d needed to start making a few changes to the life everyone swore was charmed and blessed because it never hit a single bump in the road.
He was blessed. He had parents who loved and supported him, a sister who was one of his closest friends and he’d never been without a job or a girlfriend for long enough for him to notice. He was, as Essie often teased him, “The golden child foretold in the Mills family prophecy.” He’d had it all. And then his perfectly calibrated but profoundly boring train had gone off its tracks and sent him in a new, messy direction. He’d been so far removed from his comfort zone he’d had no choice but to change course.
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