“That sounds complicated,” I murmured, sinking down into a squat so I could better wash Smith’s legs. “Who is he to you, though?”
Smith was quiet for a moment, so I continued cleaning his calves and feet before standing up and moving him under the water to get rinsed off.
“He’s my friend,” Smith finally said. “Maybe one of the best, but he’s new. He knows me more than Asha, that’s for sure.”
“Asha?”
“Friend from school. She’s the one who took me to Rapture the first time.”
I skated my fingers down the outside of his arms before giving myself a far more mechanical wash and rinse than I’d given him.
“Sounds like I owe her a thank you.”
“Lincoln too,” he said with a sleepy laugh. “He’s the only other man I’ve been with.”
“And he’s the one dating your brother?”
Smith hummed and nodded.
I reached around him to turn off the water, then I left him in the shower. The first one went around my waist, the second, I settled over his shoulders like a cloak, rubbing the water off his shoulders and the front of his chest.
“Does your brother know you’ve slept together?”
“Oh yeah.” Smith took over drying himself and shuffled after me into the living room. “Lincoln makes porn. It’s not like…well, he does solo stuff, but he’s not uptight and apparently Hunter isn’t either.”
“News to you?” I jerked my chin toward the couch and Smith collapsed into the corner of it without needing to be told twice.
“Lincoln brought out a different side of him, but I think it’s good.”
“He’s happy?”
“They both are.” Smith yawned. “They all are.”
I tightened the knot on the towel around my waist. My hair dripped down my back, and I stopped in the kitchen to dig an elastic out of my junk drawer to tie it back.
“And you?”
I opened a cabinet to get a glass for water, blocking Smith’s face from my view. When I closed it, he was staring straight at me. Rather awkwardly, I set the glass down on the counter and waited for his answer.
“I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” he said, squinting like the confession was realer than he’d realized.
“I’m happy too.”
I filled the glass with water and brought it back to him, sitting down beside him and lifting the rim to his mouth.
“I can?—”
I cut him off with a sharp look, and Smith dropped his hands back into his lap. This was something we hadn’t really had time to do together before. Not that I’d ignored aftercare, but I hadn’t put as much thought into it as Smith deserved. His wide eyes were like a gut punch as I tipped the glass back and poured some cold water into his mouth, He drank and swallowed, taking another mouthful before I pulled the glass away and set it on the coffee table.
“Do you still feel like a man?” I asked.
He licked his lips and managed a jerky nod.
“Are you sure?”
“Very,” he said, voice a little hoarse.
“And you felt like a man on your knees in my room, humping my leg to get yourself off?”
