“What thefuck, Declan.” I practically explode as disappointment grips at my chest.
“Calm down. I can promise you you’re going to get more than you’re prepared to deal with right now if you don’t sit that fine ass on the couch so we can talk about our complicated past.”
I’d really rather not. I’ve bandaged that wound with red hot anger, and I really don’t see the benefit in ripping it open again. However, as I watch Dec take a seat on the opposite side of the couch from me and turn his entire body my way, I know there’s no way we aren’t talking about this.
“We need to talk about that night,” Declan says in his no nonsense tone.
“Which night?” I ask with a bite to my tone.
“Both, but I think we start withthenight.” His emphasis tells me exactly what night.
“Do we have to?” I groan.
“Yeah, if you want to actually do something about whateverjust happened.” He rolls his eyes.
So. Fucking. Frustrating.
* * *
Jakob
Twenty-five years old
I barge into Declan’s room just like I do most days, but today he’s in the shower. He met his brother’s girlfriend tonight, and she has a kid. He texted me earlier saying to come over, he had to wash the chlorine from the pool off of his skin before the game started. He always gets extremely itchy after being in the pool, and I’m assuming the kid wanted to swim. That’s not a weird thing for me to know about him either. You try sitting beside him while he scratches his torso like a dog because we swam and he didn’t shower after.
Instead of waiting downstairs or some shit like that, I go ahead, flop down on the couch in his room and turn on the game. The Declarations are playing the Flyers, and whoever wins takes the wildcard in the playoffs. It’s a big game, and we’ve been talking about it all week. My bar is covered, and my sister is hanging out with my brother and sister-in-law. Michelle is about to pop with my niece, so she loves hanging out with my sister on dialysis days because they lounge around the house the entire time like lazy cats.
Dieter’s been worried about something the doctor told them last week, but he’s a worrier by nature, so I take his panic with a grain of salt. He and Michelle are going to be the best parents. They’ve been together forever, and with them just down the street from my house, I’m excited to barge in whenever I want to hang out with my niece. I lean my head up so it’s resting on the back of the couch in the living room area of Dec’s room and close my eyes. This week’sbeen hell between work and family stuff, so while Dec finishes in the shower, I’ll zen the fuck out.
I don’t know how long I stay like that before I open my eyes and see emerald green orbs staring down at me with a small smile on his infuriating face.
“You good, Chaos?” He’s called me Chaos since middle school. His Da used to say we looked like a tornado of straight chaos when we were together. We thought it was hilarious, and well, it just stuck.
“Yeah, just tired. You manscaping in there? Fuck, it took you long enough to come out.”
“If you want to see my dick you just have to ask nicely, ya know?” He tries to hold a straight face but laughs and shakes his head.
“Oh fuck off.” I grumble.
He jumps over the back of the couch and settles into his seat on the other side of the long black leather couch. He hands me one of the beers he’s holding as we both turn our attention to the game.
“How was ‘meet-the-family day’?”
“Dude, she’s amazing, like perfect for Rowan, and I fell in love with that kid instantly. You should have seen him when he realized we could sign to him and understand him.” Roe’s girl’s kid is deaf, so all the Byrne’s have been taking ASL lessons so they can talk to him. It’s actually pretty cool that they’re so invested in making him feel included.
“That’s awesome, but unless you can convince him to like every Jersey pro team except the Horns, he may be a wash.”
We laugh as he shoves my shoulder, “Shut up, it’s starting.” We both turn our attention back to the game.
Declan told me that he thought he was bi when we were in seventh grade. It never made a difference to me. He’s my best friend no matter where he sticks his dick. I’ve always been straight, and Iam. I mean still now, I am. But about six months ago I started watching Declan a little closer. I’m not gay or bi or anything, but subjectively, my best friend is hot. Also, I wouldn’t be too pissed if he ever decided he had a thing for me.
I sound crazy. I don’t date men. I’m not attracted to them. It’s not men. It’s just him. That sounds so stupid. Just forget it, and anyway I don’t know how I’d ever tell him, so I don’t. I sit over here and listen to his stories about his hookups while jealousy grips at my insides in silence.
We watch the game while throwing back beers until we’re both drunkenly screaming commands at the teams. Like either of us could ever lace up a pair of skates and compete. When the game is over we both lean back against the couch beside each other, laughing at the insult Declan just threw at the ref on the TV.
Our laughter dies down and I turn my head to the side to look at him. He’s so fucking perfect. He looks like he’s half beast, half man. His jawline is sharp and covered with a close cut beard. His hair is short on the sides but longer and wavy on top. As his drunken emerald eyes come to mine, he turns his head to face me too. I bring my bottom lip between my teeth and begin to chew. The next thing I know, Declan brings his thumb up and pries my lip from the abuse it’s receiving.
“Talk to me.” He smiles. Damn, it’s such a nice smile.
