A text from Miles.
Miles: Can’t wait for tonight. When will you be home?
“I haven’t booked a flight home yet,” Wesley said, smirk growing into a wide smile that eclipsed the lower half of his face.
“Spring break is only a week,” I reminded him.
Weakly.
“School can wait.”
“No, it cannot,” I corrected.
He scrunched his nose at me, and I knew I wasn’t going to win an argument with my headstrong younger brother in the middle of my office in the middle of my workday.
“We’ll talk about this later,” I said.
“Don’t be like Dad.”
“I have work to do, Wes.” I gestured vaguely in the direction of my desk, the text message and promise from Miles burning against my palm. “And apparently there are plans I need to cancel.”
CHAPTERTWENTY
Miles
As soon asGrayson got home from the store, he was in a bad mood. With four bags hooked through his fingers and his keys barely in his other hand, I assumed he’d was just stressed over the load, but he dropped the bags in the kitchen and practically mowed me over on his way back to the front of the house. He burst onto the porch and jogged down into the yard. I followed him to the door, eyeing him warily.
“What’s your deal?” I asked, when he finally came back into the house, expression more bothered than it had been after his initial arrival.
“Your boyfriend has a boyfriend.” He gestured wildly toward Hendrix’s house.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
It still felt weird to be anyone’s boyfriend, let alone to say it out loud, but I figured the more I did it, the better it would start to feel. It wasn’t like I had any issues with the actual relationship beyond the lingering terror that wrapped around the base of my spine, almost constantly whispering to me that I was going to ruin both of our lives. If I could shut the voice up, everything was nearly perfect.
Hendrix liked pain, but he wasn’t a masochist. He liked to come, and I liked to make him come. He wasn’t scared to face off with me about things, letting me know if he didn’t like the movie I wanted to watch or the snacks I’d made. He kept me on my toes and I kept him on his back, and things were great between us.
“Sure.” Grayson scoffed. “You and the lanky twink who just sauntered into his house.”
“The what?” I tried to stay calm, to play it cool.
Hendrix was a lot of things, but there was no way he was the cheating type. If he wanted to spice things up with a third, all he had to do was ask. I might not say yes, but he could ask if he wanted to.
Wait.
Shit.
Didhe want to?
“Tall, tight jeans, just fucked hair. Walked right into Hendrix’s house like he owned the place.”
Grayson had left the front door open and I brushed past him, frowning at Hendrix’s vacant driveway.
“There’s no cars,” I said.
“He got out of a rideshare.”
“Maybe the wrong address,” I speculated, not ready to go back inside but not invested in leering across the property line like a total stalker. Even though I had every right to. Hendrix and I had agreed to be exclusive with each other and a random twink making himself at home in my boyfriend’s house was the exact opposite of that.
