Be Loved (At Last, The Beloved Series Book 3)

by Stella Starling

  But even better.

  Fantasy-sex had been good—so, so good—but if he was really going to let himself dream of having everything he wanted, then the real fantasy was more than just sleeping with his best friend. The real fantasy was everything else, too. It was hugs in the kitchen and picking out furniture together and making Brandon text him when the roads were icy so Shane would know he was safe. It was lazy mornings and baking for his man and having someone who got him, completely, and always had.

  The real fantasy was to be loved.

  And to have the right to love Brandon right back.

  Forever.

  Chapter 7

  Shane

  “Shane, c’mere.”

  Shane glanced over at Brandon. It was three in the afternoon and Brandon was rocking some serious bedhead, still dressed in loose PJ pants and a ratty t-shirt. He sprawled across the couch, one arm hooked over the top, and when he patted the spot next to him and raised an eyebrow in a silent dare, it was all Shane could do not to jump on him.

  Brandon always claimed that he could read Shane like a book, but thank God that didn’t seem to be literally true. Shane had really let himself get carried away the night before with his over-the-top fantasy that he and Brandon were somehow meant to be, and he could feel his cheeks warming with embarrassment as he tried to act like he hadn’t just been picturing his best friend naked.

  He cleared his throat. “Can’t. I’m busy.”

  He’d been doing his best to keep some physical distance between them ever since Brandon had woken up, just to ensure that he didn’t accidentally slip and do something stupid, like throw himself at Brandon. He figured if he gave himself some time to cool off from the exhaustion-induced, erotic happily-ever-after daydreams he’d let himself indulge in, things would go back to normal.

  So far, that plan wasn’t working.

  Still, Shane knew how he was. He’d never liked to be alone, and, if he were honest, he knew he had a pattern of falling in love with one man the moment he left another. A few days ago, he’d been steeling himself to accept Peter’s proposal, and now, all he could think about was what he wanted with Brandon?

  He swallowed, swamped by a wave of self-doubt.

  Everything with Peter had felt like so much damn work, and everything with Brandon was just so… easy. So right. But, seriously, what kind of man was he, to be so fickle?

  And, sure, he could argue with himself that he was being anything but. This was Brandon, after all, and if Shane wanted to be super honest with himself, he’d been suppressing these feelings for the better part of their friendship. No matter how fast it felt like things had shifted for him since walking out on Peter, it didn’t really feel like his heart’s current yearning was just more of his always-needing-a-man dating pattern. It felt different with Brandon.

  Shane didn’t have to fall in love with him… because he already loved him.

  He stifled a sigh. More importantly, though, he didn’t want to lose him. No matter how tempting it was to fantasize that they could be more to each other than they’d always been, he didn’t plan on doing anything that might mess up their friendship. Nothing was worth that.

  “You’re busy? Busy doing what?” Brandon asked, standing and stretching. It pulled his t-shirt up, exposing a ridiculously sexy six-pack and just the hint of a dark blond happy trail, and Shane whipped back around to face the laptop Brandon had said he could use.

  “Busy working,” he said, clicking decisively on the button for new orders.

  The last week had been slow for Allen Designs, but that was to be expected after the Christmas rush. All of his inventory was stashed in a couple of boxes in the corner of Brandon’s living room, his tools and materials packed away. Brandon didn’t have any extra space for him to set up shop, so until Shane found a place of his own, he was limited to selling what he still had on hand.

  He swallowed, feeling glum. He didn’t want to move out of Brandon’s apartment.

  “You’ve been working for hours—”

  Shane laughed, more like twenty minutes.

  “—Aren’t you done yet?”

  Brandon came up behind him, resting one hand on the back of Shane’s neck. He started to knead it absentmindedly—which felt amazing—and leaned down to look over Shane’s shoulder at the screen.

  This did not help Shane’s keeping-some-distance plan.

  “Not yet.”

  Brandon was so predictable. How many times had they gotten together to do homework back in high school, only to have Brandon get bored and try to hurry him along so they could jump onto the Nintendo?

  “Those are pretty,” Brandon said, pointing at the screen and then resting his pointing-hand on Shane’s shoulder. He kept stroking the back of Shane’s neck with his other hand; a slow, steady rhythm that was all too reminiscent of the way Shane had imagined Brandon touching other parts of his body recently.

  Was the neck an erogenous zone?

  Shane told himself to move away, but ended up accidentally leaning into Brandon’s touch instead.

  “Um, thanks?” Shane did his best to drill a hole through the screen with his eyes and pretend that Brandon wasn’t affecting him. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know if ‘pretty’ was what I was going for, but people seem to like them.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Brandon said, sounding self-conscious. He straightened up, taking his hands away. “You’ve always been so creative, Shane. I guess I don’t know the right words to use, but they look nice? I really love the bracelet you made me last year.”

  “You don’t have to say that,” Shane said, spinning around to face him and already missing his touch. “I noticed you don’t wear it much.”

  The tips of Brandon’s ears turned red, and his hands brushed against the sides of his hips as if he were looking for pockets to push them into.

  No dice. Not in PJ pants.

  Brandon seemed to suddenly realize that, and settled for crossing his arms in front of his chest.

  “Yeah, not when I’m working. It’s best to avoid jewelry on the job. Wedding rings, sure, but watches, necklaces… you don’t want anything that someone could grab onto.”

  “Oh.” Shane frowned. He hated thinking of Brandon in dangerous situations. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “I will wear it, though,” Brandon said, grinning. “I really do love it, Shane. And I’ve got the day off, so hurry up with your work already. Aren’t you done yet?”

  Shane laughed, turning back to the screen. “You’ve been talking to me this whole time.”

  “Fine, I’ll go try to entertain myself without you,” Brandon said, heading into the kitchen. Shane heard him rustling around in there, and then: “You hungry?”

  “Sure.”

  He heard Brandon saying something else, but couldn’t make it out.

  “What?”

  After a moment, Brandon popped out of the kitchen. “Sorry, I was on the phone. Are you done working yet?”

  “No.” Shane laughed, glancing through the messages that had come in on his Etsy shop. There weren’t many, but he did have a couple of customer questions to reply to. His fingers flew over the keyboard. “Thank God Mrs. Delaney made us suffer through that semester of touch typing during senior year.”

  “Really? I hated that class.”

  “But it was useful,” Shane countered. “I use it all the time, and I bet you do, too. Don’t you have to type up official reports and things for work?”

  “Yeah, and I hate that, too.”

  “But you had to admit that it goes faster than if you had to use two fingers to hunt and peck on the keyboard, right?”

  Brandon snorted, heading back into the kitchen without answering.

  “I’m right,” Shane called after him, grinning as he hit send on his final customer response.

  “But are you done?” Brandon retaliated, his voice carrying from the other room.

  “Not yet.” There was really nothing else urgent, but he should probably update
some product descriptions so they didn’t sound so holiday-oriented.

  “How about now?” Brandon asked, coming up behind him and doing the neck thing again.

  “No.” Shane pressed his lips together, refusing to give Brandon the satisfaction of letting his smile break free. He opened up a new window, debating whether striking or stunning was a better descriptive for the etched metal and distressed leather bracelet on screen.

  “Now?”

  Shane laughed, not deigning to answer.

  “How about now?”

  “Now, Shane?”

  “Now?”

  “What, are you six years old?” Shane asked, finally giving in and laughing. He swiveled the chair around. Brandon grinned down at him, crowding close and looking exactly like everything Shane had ever wanted. “How come you have epic amounts of patience with everything… in life… but… me?”

  Shane emphasized the last few words with a series of pokes to Brandon’s rock-hard stomach.

  Brandon didn’t even flinch, but he did grin and back off. “You have no idea,” he said, retreating to the couch. He sprawled across it and patted the seat next to him again. “I have more patience with you than anyone, Shane. I’m the poster child for it. I wait and wait and wait—”

  Shane wadded up a piece of paper from the printer and threw it at him.

  Brandon laughed, batting it away. “Seriously, come over here. I want you.”

  Shane swallowed, allowing himself two-point-five seconds to pretend that was true, then he got up and joined Brandon on the couch, giving in to the inevitable.

  “Fine. You’ve got me. What’s up?”

  “This.” Brandon pulled something from a cardboard box that was stashed under the coffee table.

  Shane recognized it immediately, and his eyes widened. “Brandon, that’s an N64 controller.”

  “Yup.” Brandon beamed, his whole face lighting up.

  Shane bit the inside of his lip to try to stop himself from staring. Brandon was gorgeous when he smiled.

  “I scored one in near-factory condition on eBay a month or two back,” Brandon said excitedly, oblivious to Shane’s moment of infatuation. “I’ve just been waiting for the right time to bust it out.”

  “No way.” Shane reached for the controller, gripping it reverently with both hands. He hadn’t held one in years, but the smooth plastic felt as familiar as breathing. “Are you serious? This must have cost you a fortune.”

  Brandon shrugged, his eyes sparkling. “I’m saving up to put a down payment on a house, but I figured liberating a little of that cash for a good cause was justified.”

  “Totally justified,” Shane agreed immediately. Peter would have called it a childish waste of money, but Shane and Brandon definitely saw eye to eye on this one. Then he had a thought that made his heart start to race. “Star Fox. Oh my God, Brandon… please tell me you got that, too?”

  “Why don’t you check?” Brandon said with a cheeky smile that gave Shane his answer. He pulled the cardboard box all the way out from under the coffee table, grabbing a vintage-looking N64 console out of it. He stood up and headed for the TV. “We can play whatever you’d like. I’ll get the system set up.”

  Shane rose from the couch, too energized by the surprise to sit still. It had been ages since he’d last played a video game. Eagerly, he moved to the box and dropped to his knees.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” he asked as he started to rustle through the contents. Mario Kart? Starcraft? Shane’s grin felt like it might split his face. “I mean, I know it’s your day off and everything, but Peter always says it’s a waste of time to play video games—”

  “Of course I’m sure,” Brandon said, cutting him off. “Besides, any sentence that starts with ‘Peter always says’ is probably something I’m gonna disagree with.”

  “Right. Sorry,” Shane said, flushing.

  “Hey, there’s no sorry required.” Brandon stopped fussing with the console’s cords and turned to face him. “Shane, the guy may have been a loser, but you spent two years with him. No one expects you to just move on overnight. But seriously, I hope you’ll take anything he said with a grain of salt. Maybe a pound of it. Ever heard the term gaslighting?”

  Shane nodded, his embarrassment deepening. How could he have been so blind?

  Gaslighting was exactly what Peter had done to him.

  Peter had been sweet and attentive when they’d first met, but his attentiveness had changed into something more smothering as time went on. He’d told blatant lies with a straight face and then denied that he’d said the things he had, sometimes contradicting his own statements between one breath and the next. His insistence on being right was so unshakeable that, at times, it felt almost surreal. Shane had started to doubt himself in dozens of small ways, as if his own memory couldn’t be relied upon in the face of Peter’s version of reality.

  Shane sighed, running a hand back through his too-long bangs as he stared blindly at the jumble of game cartridges in the box and tried not to feel like a fool. Now, with just the tiniest bit of space from the relationship, it was easy to see just how toxic it had been… but seeing that the relationship had been toxic and actually getting over it were two different things.

  It was like Peter’s voice had become permanently lodged in his head, coloring every thought.

  “It’s only been a few days, Shane,” Brandon said, kneeling down next to him and tipping Shane’s face up to meet his eyes. “Cut yourself some slack.”

  Wow. Brandon really could read him like a book. The thought warmed his heart, melting away some of his self-recrimination, and he nodded, pushing thoughts of Peter away with a determined effort.

  He was with Brandon now, and he wanted to enjoy every moment.

  Brandon’s lip quirked up in a sexy smile, and he pulled the Star Fox cartridge out of the box. “We always had such a blast with this stuff back in high school. Let’s just chill for the day and pretend we’ve got no more worries than our seventeen-year-old selves.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Shane said, meaning it. He grinned. “But didn’t you promise to feed me?”

  “When have I ever broken a promise?” Brandon countered, grinning back. “I ordered some Chinese food when I was in the kitchen, including extra crab Rangoon for you. It’ll take a bit to get here, but I hope you still like Szechuan beef, ’cause I got that and some chicken with green pepper in a black bean sauce, too.”

  “Crab Rangoon?” Shane’s mouth started to water.

  Brandon hopped to his feet, heading back toward his entertainment center like a man with a mission. “It was always your favorite, so I made sure to order a bunch.”

  “I’m not allowed—” Shane snapped his mouth closed, and Brandon glanced back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

  Peter hadn’t allowed Shane to eat fried foods.

  God, at what point had he become the type of person who used words like “allowed” in reference to what his boyfriend said he could and couldn’t do? Shane’s chest constricted, feeling almost too tight to breathe for a moment. If he’d let himself become that person, maybe it meant that Peter had been right when he’d told Shane that he was weak… that he’d be better off leaving decisions to Peter… that Shane’s judgment couldn’t be trusted.

  Shane took a breath, letting it out slowly.

  Then he did it again.

  He straightened his spine. Nope. He wasn’t going to fall for that bullshit anymore, not even in his own head.

  Brandon was still watching him, and his lips tipped up in a small smile. “Good,” he said, turning back to the gaming system. “You’re your own person, Shane, and I happen to like that person quite a bit.”

  Shane blinked. He was sure he hadn’t said anything out loud. Was Brandon really that good at reading him?

  Brandon grinned, his finger hovering over the N64’s power button. “And I happen to know that that person I like so much? He likes playing video games and eating crab Rangoon, so today we’re
going to do exactly that. No one is in charge of you but you, Shane, and when I beat you in Star Fox, that’s going to be all on you, too.”

  Shane gasped in mock outrage, feeling the last, lingering traces of tightness in his chest unfurl at the calm certainty underlying Brandon’s words.

  Brandon was right. Well, except for the bit about Star Fox.

  Shane grabbed one of the controllers and claimed a spot on the couch. “Beat me?” He grinned. “I think your memory is failing, Brandon. Quit being a tease and turn it on already.”

  Brandon’s eyes sparkled as he finally powered up the system. The N64 logo appeared on screen, and Shane whooped, jumping to his feet. He refused to be embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. He was with Brandon, after all, where it was always okay to be completely himself.

  And he was so, so ready for this.

  “My memory is just fine, thank you very much,” Brandon said, grabbing the other controller and hip-checking Shane out of the way to claim the prime gaming spot he’d just vacated. “I remember Star Fox threatening to destroy our friendship on a weekly basis. Get ready to lose.”

  “In your dreams. You know I don’t mess around when it comes to this. Who’s the reigning Game Master from our last tournament before you enlisted? Me.” Shane jabbed his thumb at his chest, playing it up. He hadn’t felt competitive like this in a long time, and it felt great. “Prepare to feel the pain.”

  “Big words,” Brandon shot back, his eyes alive with competitive spirit. “We’ll see who walks away victorious, though. Name your rules.”

  “Time trial. Five minutes. Sector Z. No NPCs.” Shane cracked his knuckles, ready for a fight. “Bring it.”

  Time ceased to have any meaning, and before Shane knew it, he’d won five games and Brandon had won four. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much uncomplicated fun.

  The doorbell rang just as they were about to hit start on a new versus round.

  “Chinese,” Brandon said, grinning as he got to his feet. “Hold on. If you start this without me and shoot me into oblivion it does not count as a win. We’re doing this fair and square.”