As if on cue, the front door opened, and Grayson called out from the entryway. “Is everyone decent?”
“Hardly,” I answered as Hendrix’s stare flickered toward the front of the house, giving me the only answer to the question that I needed. “Can you fuck off to your room for a bit, though?”
Grayson didn’t confirm or deny, but I listened to him walk down the hallway, and then his bedroom door opened and closed, leaving Hendrix and me alone again in the kitchen.
“Why are you jealous of Grayson?” I asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Hendrix had finished his breakfast, and he pushed his plate away. Mine was still half packed with food, but my appetite had started to waver with every word out of his mouth.
“He’s my best friend.”
“That’s not all he’s ever been.”
“There’s a reason that’s all he is now, though,” I reminded. The hum of conversation echoed down the hallway, no doubt from Grayson’s TV. “Grayson and I are better friends than anything else.”
“Why?”
I couldn’t stop from rolling my eyes, the question already old and tired, and one we’d both asked each other more times than I could count.
“Did you want the list?” I asked.
“Yes.”
The expression on Hendrix’s face was tense and serious. The softness from the orgasm of the morning already long gone, replaced instead with deep worry lines and tension that corded the muscles in his neck.
“You’re serious,” I murmured, and he answered me with a nod. “Alright. Grayson and I dated, obviously. We were involved, but we wanted different things. There was no path forward for us.”
“But he’s still here. You still live together. You’re still friends.”
“That’s the only room I have for him in here.” I pressed my hand against my chest, the pace of my heart skittish beneath my breast bone. “He is still here and we are still friends. I do still love him, but not in the way I love you. And even when I did love him that way, it wasn’t like this.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite into a smile but almost a softening of a defense. Which struck me as odd because, up until that moment. I was certain Hendrix had been utterly open and transparent with me.
“He likes things I don’t like,” I went on, leaning in and lowering my voice. “And to be fair, he’s far too young for me.”
That earned a proper smile, the awkward mask sliding right off of his face. He tilted his head to the side, leaning in to close the space between us. I met him halfway, our lips touching softly in the barest graze of a kiss. Positively chaste compared to the dedication I’d shown less than an hour before while I ate his ass. But it was nice, and it was tender, and Hendrix held my face in his hands, much as he’d done the night before.
I let him because it felt good to be touched by him.
To be seen.
And the kiss deepened, fingers pressing harder before moving and tangling in hair and in clothes. We were on our feet and one of the barstools clattered to the ground. Grayson’s bedroom door opened, then closed again. I shoved Hendrix against the fridge, taking control of the kiss.
“Fucking Christ,” I muttered, dropping my forehead against his and taking a breath. “You drive me fucking mad for how much I want you.”
Hendrix curled his hands around my waist and pulled me close, his cock hard as mine and insistent against my hip.
“I don’t think that’s something I’ll apologize for,” he teased, smiling against my cheek.
“You better not. Not ever.”
He made a pleased sound, stretching his fingers and wrapping his arms around me in more of an embrace than before. It was easy to melt into his arms, to accept the support and the affection he offered.
“When can I see you again?” I asked, knowing that we hadn’t made plans for the day, knowing his brother was next door, knowing Grayson was down the hall. Life was rudely encroaching on the bubble we’d created, but I knew it wasn’t anything I could fight.
“I’m here right now.”
I tweaked one of his nipples, turning away with a sigh I tried to hide. “You know what I mean.”
