I hummed, appreciating Lincoln’s closeness without reading into it. I was lucky Hunter wasn’t bothered that Lincoln and I had already had sex with each other. It wasn’t like there’d been romantic love between us or anything, but there had been physical intimacy. That would have been a dealbreaker for a lot of people, but the Convington men—myself included—seemed to take Lincoln in stride. Marshall encouraged the closeness between Lincoln and Silas, Hunter wasn’t scared of it, and I…I didn’t know how to accept it.
“Have you found someone to top you yet?” Lincoln asked, brushing a final kiss against the corner of my mouth before reaching for Hunter who was back with three bottles of beer from my fridge.
The last three bottles of beer.
“I know he’s your friend, but he’s still my baby brother,” Hunter groaned, taking a swig of beer and resting the bottle on the arm of the couch.
“No,” I told Lincoln, glancing past him at Hunter. “But it feels less urgent now.”
“Thank God,” Hunter muttered.
“I’m not a virgin.”
“Of course you are,” Hunter argued.
I rolled my eyes and sipped at the beer, staring at the reflection of the three of us in the dark television across the room. Lincoln was half on me, half on my brother, sprawled out like a cat claiming everything in sight for himself. It was good to see him settling back into the comfort of knowing himself again, and I was admittedly jealous I didn’t have that for myself.
“Your brother and I were in the neighborhood, and we’re going to grab some take-out and then go home and watch movies until Monday. I suggested we stop by and invite you since you weren’t necessarily up for solitude last night.”
“I’m sure your kind of movie marathons come with things not meant for brothers,” I said, which earned me a relieved look from Hunter. I knocked the rim of my beer bottle against Lincoln’s and gave him as honest of a smile as I could manage. “I promise I’m okay. If you’re allowed to have a quarter-life crisis, so am I.”
“I don’t have any brothers for you to fall in love with, though,” he protested.
I thought about Riggs, his appearance in my brain unwarranted and unsolicited. But there was no denying I’d come home from the shop and spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about the bulge behind the worn cotton of his pajama pants and the wide spread of dark, curly hair that had been visible above the waistband.
I’d never put much thought before into if I had a type or not. I’d been with a couple women in college, and then that one time with Lincoln because I’d had a little too much to drink but did really want to know what it was like. Riggs was the opposite of all of them, tall and rugged, barely a visible inch of untattooed skin to be seen. I’m sure he hadn’t expected me to get an eyeful of him in his half-naked glory, but now that I had, it was something I had no interest in unseeing.
“Who are you thinking about?” Lincoln asked, eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“Just now.” Hunter leaned around Lincoln and gave me the same inscrutable look. “You were definitely making heart eyes over someone.”
“Was not.” I knocked Lincoln out of the way and jumped off the couch, taking the beer into the kitchen and setting it in the sink. I didn’t want to drink, at least not beer. I poured myself a glass of water and swallowed it down before rejoining them in the living room.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about her yet,” Hunter said gently.
“Him,” I corrected without thinking.
Lincoln’s eyes sparkled when he said, “Told you so.”
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “He’s no one.”
“Clearly not.” Hunter’s stomach growled, and Lincoln’s attention flickered between me and my brother.
“It’s fine. Go get your food and watch your movies. I promise I’m okay. Just a little introspective is all.”
Hunter stood, pulling Lincoln to his feet before shoving him out of the way to wrap me in a hug. The affection was uncharacteristic, but Lincoln had a way of changing everyone he met for the better.
“Don’t let it bury you,” he whispered into my ear. “Lincoln almost did.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
I hugged Lincoln next, cheeks burning when he dropped an affectionate love bite on the side of my neck before linking his arm through the crook of Hunter’s elbow. The two of them shared a hushed conversation on their way to the front door. A lot of Lincoln talking and Hunter nodding his agreement. We said our goodbyes and as quick as they’d arrived, they were gone again and my apartment was quiet.
I thought again about Riggs, knowing that line of thought wasn’t going to get me anywhere. He was definitely not interested in me, probably thought I was a stupid kid in over my head. He’d probably laughed with his friends about how I passed out after getting tattooed then stolen his hoodie and fled.
No.
