Silas hung up and I tossed my phone onto the bed and waited. It took twenty minutes or so for Silas to get to my place, and when he walked in and saw the boxes stacked on the bed, he arched a brow at me in question.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“Hunter asked me to move in.”
“That’s quick.”
I held up a hand to stop him, frowning. “Don’t start with me.”
“I just want you to be sure you’re making the right decision.”
“I didn’t do this when you moved in with Marshall,” I reminded him. Even though I’d wanted to, even though that had come from a place of jealousy.
Silas shoved his hands into his pockets and gave a quick scan to my apartment, the state of it, the state of me, and then the fight went out of his shoulders.
“You’re right,” he conceded, walking toward me until our chests knocked together. He dropped his forehead down low onto my shoulder, and it was second nature to slide my arms around his waist and keep him close. “That was dumb of me.”
“You worry about me,” I whispered against his ear. “I love that about you.”
“He makes you happy?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” Silas murmured, bringing his face up so we were almost eye to eye. “I just want the best for you.”
“He is.”
My best friend’s mouth twitched up into a smile, and his eyes narrowed like there was a conspiracy between us.
“I never pegged Hunter as submissive.”
The laugh that fell out of my mouth was violent enough to put physical space between us, and the look of confusion on Silas’s face only made me laugh harder. I pulled him to the edge of the bed and tugged him down, holding his hand until I could breathe again through the tears.
“He’s not,” I said, shaking my head. “Not at all. Well…no. He’s really not.”
“But you…”
“It works for us,” I shared, leaning in and pressing our foreheads together. “He’s…”
The word lodged in my throat. It was one thing to use it with Hunter, another thing entirely to use it with someone else. Silas had always known me as a dominant, and not that it had any true bearing on the nature of our friendship, but would he look at me differently if he knew what I did behind closed doors? No. That was impossible. He was too good of a person for that, too kind and sincere in everything he did to think less of me for finding something different for myself.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”
“He’s a Daddy,” I admitted. “He’s mine, but sometimes he calls me Sir and sometimes he gets on his knees for me, Silas, and it’s fucking everything.”
His face split into a huge grin, and he grabbed both of my hands, squeezing tight. “I love that for you.”
Tears pricked the backs of my eyelids, and I swallowed hard, not wanting to cry in front of him.
“I love him,” I rasped.
Silas tipped his chin and pressed our mouths together. He smiled against my lips, and I looped my arms around his shoulders before breaking the kiss and burying my face into the crook of his neck.
“I love him so much,” I said.
“I know,” he said. “I can tell. And he’s lucky for it. He knows that, right?”
I nodded.
