“Why the fuck am I nervous?” he asks.
“I don’t know. It’s just Isla.”
“She’s not just Isla to me. She’s your best friend.” He looks bashful for a moment in a way that shouldn’t be so endearing. “I want her to like me.”
“Everyone likes you. She’ll probably wonder whyyoulikeme,” I say, heading to the door.
“No. She won’t,” he says, voice all soft and sincere and landing straight in my chest.
“Shut up,” I counter, and Hunter laughs, just before I open the door.
“Hey, babe,” Isla greets me, looking beautiful as always. She’s tall and curvy, with brown skin that’s always glowing, and she wears her hair natural, in tight curls perfectly placed and twisted.
“Hey, you.” I hug her, and Isla squeezes me tightly, mouth close to my ear when she whispers, “He’s hot.”
“You’ve seen him before,” I reply, but I appreciate the support.
When we pull back, she gives Hunter the once-over. “So cute. I never knew you had a thing for good boys, Lucas.”
“I’m not a good boy,” Hunter argues, which makes him sound like he’s exactly that. As if realizing how that came across, he chuckles and shakes his head. “That sounded better in my head.”
“You’re not his type, but then, hehasbeen in love with you forever.”
I tense. Hunter’s gaze shoots to me, holding me captive.
Isla must sense she’s just dropped a bomb on us, or maybe it’s my deer-in-headlights expression. “Oh shit,” she says. “I’m so fucking sorry. I assumed you knew. You guys are like, a thing now, and I thought you must have talked about that.” She turns to me. “I’m so sorry, babe.”
It doesn’t really change things, and if Hunter really thought about it, he probably would have realized I’ve had feelings for him all along. Regardless, there’s nothing we can do about it now.
“Are we really surprised I would be the kind of guy to have a secret crush on his brother’s boyfriend his whole life?”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” they say in unison, then look at each other and smile.
Oh God. Is this going to be a thing? Are they going to gang up on me now with all this positivity? “That was weird,” I say.
“We’re serious,” Hunter argues.
“You literally just met. I changed my mind. Go home, Isla.” I pretend to nudge her toward the door, but she laughs and playfully fights me off.
“We love you,” she says, jump-starting my heart. Hunter never said he loves me, and he doesn’t say it now, but as I stand here with my best friend and the man I’ve always wanted, I can make myself believe he does.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Hunter
Ispend mostof the afternoon and evening thinking about what Isla said. Did Lucas really have feelings for me before everything changed that night we met up on the roof? He basically admitted he had when he made that offhand comment about his crush. That’s a lot to think about, a lot for him to have lived with. Have I ever inadvertently hurt Lucas? I’m sure I have. I’m sure Ellis had too, even if unintentionally.
Isla is great. I love watching her and Lucas together. I’ve never seen him completely let down his walls with anyone the way he does with Isla. No reservations, no worries about showing all of himself, no keeping emotions locked up. I didn’t realize it before today, but he does even with me. He kept how he felt about me a secret, and all I want is to break down every single one of his walls. I want intimate knowledge of every part of him he’s able to share, want to let him in on every part of me.
The conversation flows well. I feel Isla watching me when Lucas is near—the way I touch him and look at him—probably to make sure I appreciate him, that I’m worthy of him, and I can only hope I pass her test. But the truth is, I can’t help but observe them together too—the affection they show one another, how she runs her fingers through his hair and calls him babe, and the way Lucas soaks it all up.
I know they’ve slept together, and I’m not typically jealous—Ellis and I were not like that, and that was the only relationship I’ve ever been in—but a part of me is jealous of them. Of the years she’s had with Lucas, despite how long I’ve known him. That she holds more of his secrets, some of them about me, and that they can love each other and be so close, regardless of their other relationships. At the same time, I’m glad he has her because I don’t know if Lucas has let himself have anyone. I’m thankful she’s been there all these years when I haven’t been.
They’re sitting by each other on the couch, telling me a story about Lucas swooping in to save her on a bad date and pretending to be her boyfriend. We laugh, and they talk over each other, telling each other that’s not how the story went, that the other got the details wrong. Isla rolls her eyes at him, and Lucas pretends to cover her face with his hand, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Lucky he was there,” I say.
“She’s done the same for me,” Lucas says, then pushes to his feet. “I’ll be right back. The beer is running through me.”
