Here we go. Am I the asshole because I want him to fight for me just a little?
“You stroke my ego so I’ll stroke your cock, and you want to act subtle about it, but it’s not subtle, Isaac. Newsflash. Nothing about you is subtle.”
He’s got that last part dead right. “You realize we still have to work together. That I’ll see you in the morning?”
He barks a laugh. “I can be professional. You think I can’t? That’s what we call projection.”
I press my thumb and forefinger into my eyelids and sigh. “You done?”
He hesitates a second. “Yeah. I’m done.”
“Okay, well, all I want to say is that I didn’t go into any of this to hurt you. I’m sorry if I have.”
“You? Hurt me?” He huffs and then falls silent.
I swallow hard. “It’s not me, is it?”
Across the line I hear him sniff, and it lands like an axe in my chest. “This sucks.”
His lack of an answer is answer enough. Knowing his heart was set on someone else is fucking devastating. Maybe I assumed Evan just didn’t do feelings, but he obviously does. Just not for me.
If I’d known it were possible, was there something more I could have done? Something I should have said to let him know I’ve wanted so much more from him than secret office sex?
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“You’ve said that like twenty times,” he says. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I get that.”
He takes a deep breath and blows it out. “I’m sorry, too. This is a lot, and I’m upset, and I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m really sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. And you can say whatever you need to say to me. However you need to say it.”
“I appreciate that, but still…”
“I mean it,” I say. “Thank you for talking to me.”
“Your heart’s too big for your own good, you know?”
I cover my face with my hand. “I don’t want to lose you, Evan.”
“I—” he hesitates, sniffs again and clears his throat. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he finally says, and the line goes silent.
Givingmy younger brother access to my apartment was probably a mistake. Most of my life outside my career is a study in bad choices. In my defense, Jake is fifteen years my junior, and we were separated for a good part of his upbringing, so how the fuck am I supposed to know how to be a good brother to him? I just want him in my life. Not all up in it all the time necessarily, but I certainly want him to feel comfortable in it.
However, my penthouse is not a Motel Six.
He’s making out with a girl on my very expensive couch when I come home from work. The TV is on, four beer bottles are onthe coffee table, and I see a flash of female nipple before they realize I’m home and get their acts together.
“Isaac, hey.”
I glare at Jake and the female. I have nothing against women on principle—I just prefer them clothed when they’re in my presence. Call me old-fashioned. Call me gay as fuck.
“Jake,” I say with a tight jaw.
“It was crazy at the house. Hope you don’t mind—we just wanted a little quiet.”
With the TV blaring, the living room is anything but quiet.
