Was it his age? Was it that his dad was married to Lane’s mom? Itshouldn’thave mattered, but there was no question Lane was behaving oddly, even for him.
Much more close-lipped than usual, Trevor thought morosely. Maybe he could talk to Cam or Levi. They’d probably echo thesame advice Lane had given him, but maybe they’d pair it with a nice little pep talk about finding yourself.
“Oh,” Lane said, holding up a piece, “I think I found that one you were looking for.”
Trevor sighed and plucked it from his fingers. “Great. Thanks.”
Lane straightened up. “You gonna be up much longer?”
He still felt wired in that same way, but exhaustion was beginning to pull on him now too. If he went to bed, would he lie there and stare at the ceiling? Trevor wasn’t sure, but they did have practice tomorrow, even if it was later than normal.
He should at least attempt to get some sleep.
“No, I think I’m gonna turn in,” Trevor said.
“Alright,” Lane said with a nod. “See you in the morning?”
Trevor nodded back and realized as he closed the bedroom door behind him, that even if it had kind of sucked, it had still feltgoodto tell Lane the truth about him. One person down, a bunch more to go.
Lane hadn’t ever gotten less sleep and feltmorewired.
He didn’t hold back as he pounded on Nate’s door. Didn’t think he could’ve even if he wanted to.
His heart and his brain had been going a million miles an hour, ever since Trevor had looked over at him, dim light touching his hair with pinkish gold, and confessed that he didn’t think he was straight at all. WantedLane’sidea of what he should be doing about it.
Oh, Lane had a lot of ideas, for fucking sure.
None of which he should be vocalizing, but he’d been so tempted, so overwhelmed with the impossible possibilities spinning out in front of him, that he’d not been able to say anything at fucking all.
Embarrassing. But not as embarrassing as how he’d lain in bed later, sleepless and eyes burning, unable to stop himself from thinking that if he’d only lost his goddamn mind and said to Trevor,What if you experiment with me?
He’d only kept the words in through sheer force of will.
Fist pounding on the door again, Lane had a sudden horrible thought that maybe Natehadn’tgone back to the new townhouse he was sharing with Ramsey between Toronto and Buffalo and maybe he’d driven all the way out here at the ass crack of dawn for no reason whatsoever.
But before Lane could pull his phone out of his pocket and text Nate to confirm that he’d heard Ramsey right, that they’d planned to come back here, the door opened revealing a shirtless Ramsey, hair messed up, eyes sleepy, and gray sweatpants barely hanging on to his hips.
“What the fuck,” he said pleasantly, but there was an accusatory glint in his eyes. And since this was Ramsey, what he chose to do about it would not be clean or easy.
Whatever. Lane was desperate. Desperate enough he’d take whatever secretly evil punishment Ramsey wanted to dole out for waking him up so early.
“I need to talk to Nate,” Lane said, trying to push his way into the doorway, but Ramsey held firm. Surprisingly firm. Reminding Lane that he played hockey for a living and he was deceptively strong and pretty damn good at taking a check—and checking back.
“Why?” Ramsey asked.
“Ugh, why does it matter?” Lane retorted. He considered trying to push Ramsey out of the way again, but two things stopped him: 1) he liked his balls attached to his body and 2) if Ramsey denied him again, there was no way it wouldn’t be embarrassing as fuck.
“It matters,” Ramsey said, voice still uncomfortably even, even as his eyes flashed bright, “because I got like three hours of fucking sleep. It matters because we were supposed to be able to sleep in today. It matters because I went to sleep planning to wake my boyfriend with a blowjob.”
Lane winced. “Sorry?
Ramsey shot him one more look—this one more explicitly promised retribution, at some point and time, probably when Lane would least expect it, too—and then opened the door wider.
“Come on in,” Ramsey said, sighing reluctantly. “Clearly you and the other demon twin did something that you’re freaking out about.”
“What?” Lane gaped at him as Ramsey led him into the kitchen. He punched some buttons on a fancy-looking coffee machine.
Ramsey glanced back at him. “Oh, you thought you were being subtle about that, huh?”
