Not sure Hunter would appreciate that.
My brother’s bestie was territorial as fuck, even though Gabe was oblivious.
Gabe
Hunter doesn’t care who I fuck.
Sure.
Gabe
Why are you so fucking squirrelly? Why can’t you just tell me where you are and what you’re doing?
I’m in Italy with a friend. Why are you awake so early in the morning?
Gabe
Couldn’t sleep. Which friend?
I closed my eyes and let out a groan under my breath. It was impossible to do what I did for a living and be in the Marian family.
You’re worse than Beau. You’re worse than *Aunt Tilly*.
Gabe
Take that back.
I closed my eyes and let the heat of the sun sink into my skin again, but the phone buzzed a minute later.
Gabe
I hate that you don’t talk to me anymore.
I stared at the words, absently rubbing the ache in my chest. He wasn’t wrong. And I felt the same way.
My fingers hovered over the screen before I typed a response.
I came to Italy with a straight guy. Someone I hooked up with before. Someone I should steer clear of. But I can’t seem to stay away from. There. You happy?
Gabe
Bro.
Don’t say it.
Gabe
BRO.
I clicked the screen off and tossed it on the chaise next to me to keep from typing more. There was nothing my brother could say that I hadn’t already thought myself.
It was ridiculous to catch feelings for a straight guy. And even if Locke was coming into his own in terms of appreciating his walk on the wild side, he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who was going to start shopping for dildos and jocks and introducing his boyfriend at the annual Longshoreman’s Ball.
It’s just sex.
And I loved sex. Loved it. Couldn’t get enough of it.
I also loved lying in the sun by a crystal-clear pool and a wide expanse of the Mediterranean Sea.
