Joe’s earnest gaze turned curious. “What?”
I laughed again. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve been carrying it around for more than a year now, and it’s just about killing me.”
“It can’t be worse than anything else you’ve told me.”
Another snigger tumbled out of me. “Oh, trust me, it can.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I turned on the bed to face Joe and automatically tucked some of his wayward hair behind his ears. “Remember what I said about Rhys and sex clubs?”
“How could I forget?”
I smirked. “Well, try forgetting this: I had a patient a year or so ago that became a friend. Angelo. Him and his boyfriend frequent the same club as Rhys. I know they’ve all been fucking, but they have no idea how we’re all connected.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “That Angelo dude doesn’t know he’s fucking your brother? And Rhys doesn’t know he’s fucking your friend?”
“That’s about the size of it. There’s some kind of sex clubomertà, so Rhys has never told me the name of the hot couple he hooks up with, but combined with what Angelo tells me, it all adds up.”
“Wow.” Joe shifted on the bed. “That’s kind of hot, but terrifying at the same time.”
I laughed. “It’s not hot for me. I had such a crush on Angelo before I realised. His fella is gorgeous too.”
“And your brother?”
“Piss off.” I landed a playful punch on Joe’s arm. “He’s a slightly shorter, slimmer version of me—with better hair.”
Joe ran his hand over the buzz on my head. “I like your hair. And I love how big and powerful you are. Makes me feel safe.”
That there was even a moment when he didn’t feel safe hurt my heart. I found his hand and tugged him close enough for a sweet kiss that went on and on until he pulled away, his gaze too serious again. “Can I ask you something else?”
I sighed. “Sure.”
“You know what you said about building yourself up so you could defend yourself?”
“Yeah?” I knew where this was going. If Emma had worked it out, it had only been a matter of time before Joe did too.
“Did it ever take over? The training, I mean. The discipline?”
I nodded slowly. “Of course it did. Protecting my mum, and Rhys, was my priority, but it got out of hand, and it didn’t go away, even after I didn’t need to protect them anymore. Rhys dealt with what happened to us by going wild—I went the other way. Control, obsession, whatever you want to call it. It consumed me for a while.”
“What... like an eating disorder?”
“Yeah. Probably not like you’re imagining, though. It wasn’t like I wanted to be thin.”
“You wanted the opposite?”
“For a while, but ultimately, I think I just wanted to be perfect... like, from the inside out? And controlling what I put in my body was one way of achieving that. Or so I thought. All it actually meant was that I ate nothing but chicken breasts and protein shakes.”
Joe’s brow furrowed. I could see him recalling my time on the farm and wondering what that shit meant for me now. “You still eat a lot of chicken and drink weird, mushy shakes.”
I chuckled. “I know. And I’m still carb-phobic when I don’t check myself, but I’m so much better than I was. Stress fucks with my focus, and I do slip back sometimes, but I manage it these days. Writing helps, at least it did until I started getting paid for it, but the best therapy I’ve found recently is you.”
“Seriously?” Joe’s expression brightened considerably. “And here was me thinking I’d brought you nothing but hassle.”
I couldn’t deny that being on the farm had brought stresses of its own, so I didn’t. I snaked an arm around Joe and lolled my head on his shoulder. “You lot are so casual about food—and yet, it means so much to you all. It brings you together every single day, twice a day, sometimes three times. Being a part of that has meant the world to me. I didn’t realise how lonely I was until I came here.”
“I don’t want you to be lonely, Harry. I can’t bear it.”
