“I’m sorry I thought about ten things to say that weren’t nice or helpful,” I muttered.
Evan dropped the pot he was cleaning and practically ran to me, yanking me around to hug me. “I don’t care what you thought. I care what you took the time to say,” he whispered.
Alan eased the knife out of my hand, the same way I had done for Evan earlier.
Cupping the back of Evan’s head when he pressed his face to the side of my neck, I sighed. He was right. If everyone was judged for what they thought, everyone would be considered a horrible human being. It was better to remember that what people actually said and did mattered more.
Which was why I had to remind myself of that when I acted like a jerk because I was nervous, scared, or jealous. He only knew what I did or said out loud. Maybe it would be better if he understood how I felt.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He nodded against my neck.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
He pulled back to look at me. “That will never happen. If you want everything to stay just us?—”
“No. I want you to be happy, and I know you’re not, exactly.”
He bit his lip but stayed quiet.
“Speak, Evan,” Alan said, though his tone was quiet and encouraging as much as it was demanding.
“I’m not unhappy.”
“We have to agree,” I said. “That none of this means either of us were unhappy with what we had. We can have been happy asthings were, and be happy as things might turn out. Both things can be true.”
“I love you,” he said. “I really, really love you. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know.” And I did. I’d been using that as a shorthand for all the things I was feeling, but most of them had nothing to do with Evan. I looked past him to Alan. “What you said at the rink.”
Alan’s grin was positively predatory. “I absolutely meant it. And since Evan is not going to be the one to do that for you?—”
“Now I don’t have to, I can say hell no,” Evan said, picking his head up, but not letting go of one arm around my waist. “Understand, I would have tried.”
I cupped his face, sliding my fingers into his hair. “I do.” I kissed him hard and long. I loved that he’d thought about topping for me, that he’d been maybe trying to psyche himself up to do it but I understood it would not have been great for him. The phrase “power bottom” had been coined for him.
A quiet, disgruntled huff came from behind Evan and we paused, lips brushing, foreheads touching.
“Maybe this isn’t fair,” Evan whispered, the words dusting my lips.
“Maybe he stops being so careful,” I suggested, peeking through Evan’s waves to see Alan’s dark glare directed at us.
“The second I have permission,” he rumbled at me.
He took hold of the hand I’d rested on Evan’s hip, lacing our fingers together, and stepping close enough that Evan’s body pressed more firmly against mine.
It was fascinating to watch him kiss along Evan’s nape, the shell of his ear, his jaw, until he found my lips.
Evan shifted just enough to nuzzle his face to my neck again, kissing my skin and sliding a hand under my shirt while Alan explored my mouth.
I rocked my growing erection against Evan’s hip, moaning when Alan’s hand snuck up through my curls and tangled there, pulling strands tight and prickling my scalp. Much more of that, and I was going to embarrass myself.
A throat cleared behind us.
Evan’s whole body jolted, but he didn’t try to make space between us, instead, pulling me against him, both arms around me as Alan eased away from us. His hand at my neck lingered longest, cupped around my nape until I sighed and nodded, my head now buried in Evan’s shoulder.
“Sorry, Michael,” Alan said, his voice rough.
