Did that mean Dillon was mad?
“I asked you to take care of my best friend, but I didn’t mean like that.”
“I like Jae,” Xander said. “We’ve spent loads of time together the last couple of weeks.”
“I bet you have.”
“It’s been amazing. I haven’t been this happy in a long time, Dill. I think—I hope—the feeling’s mutual.” Xander looked at me.
“It is. Please don’t be mad, Dillon. Xander makes me smile. Constantly.”
Silence.
I dragged my eyebrows together and stared at Xander. The pit of my stomach felt hollow. My heart ached. I didn’t know what else to say.
“Are you angry?” Xander asked.
“I’m—” Dillon made a frustrated noise. I imagined him flinging his hand up like he always did when he couldn’t find the right words. “Surprised.” He sighed, and I pictured him pinching the bridge of his nose. “Or maybe I’m not. Maybe I should have seen this coming, but I didn’t. I didn’t think you liked each other that way.”
“We didn’t three years ago,” Xander replied. “But something changed.”
“So, what? You spend a couple of weeks together and decide it’s a good idea to jump into bed and profess your undying love?”
“We haven’t—” I pressed my lips together. I loved Dillon, but he didn’t need to know what Xander and I had or hadn’t done. “Your brother’s amazing.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I asked him to take care of you. Why didn’t I see this coming?”
“We didn’t either,” I whispered. “It just happened. Xander is…is…kind, generous, and he knows how to sweep a guy off his feet.”
“I bet he does.”
“The word Jae used was perfect.” Xander winked at me.
My cheeks became warm. “It was.”
“You’re wonderful too.”
“I’ll leave you two alone if you’re going to be that sickeningly cutesy,” Dillon grumbled.
“Wait,” Xander said. “Tell us how you feel about us.”
There was a long pause. Xander wiggled his fingers, and I put my hand in his. He squeezed gently. It was comforting. I loved how huge his hands were compared to mine. My fingers were long and slender. His were short and chubby in comparison to the size of his palms.
“I don’t know,” Dillon said eventually. “It’s going to take a bit of time for me to wrap my head around the idea that my brother and my best friend are screwing. Give me a chance to process it. I’ll call later.”
“Later?” I asked.
“Yeah. In a day or two.” Dillon sounded tetchy.
His words stabbed at my heart. “Okay.”
There was another lengthy pause, during which I expected the call to go dead.
“When’s your next open call?” Dillon asked.
“Next week.”
“It’s at McKay’s, right?”
