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My eyes dropped closed, and I let out a long breath, picturing myself sliding into him. “Great, now that’s all I’m going to be able to think about through dinner.” I opened my eyes back up to find him smiling, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“That’s the whole point.” Cally gave my belly a firm pat, his palm lingering for a second before he rolled off the mattress and stood by the bed, adjusting himself with zero shame.

I lay there for a second, watching him, then zipped up my jeans and pulled my belt tight, my hands still a little shaky from the aftershocks of my orgasm.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood, while Cally bent over to scoop up the bourbon from the floor. He righted himself, unscrewing the top, and took another long pull. He caught my eye, tossing me a wink as he swallowed.

I’d never seen Cally drink anywhere this much, though I didn’t think he seemed drunk. Meanwhile, my head was buzzing—though I wasn’t sure if that was from adrenaline from my confrontation with Will, Cally’s excellent blow job, or the effects of the booze.

Cally lowered the bottle and held it out toward me.

I shook my head, stepping closer. “I’m good.” I smoothed out the mess I’d made of his hair before adjusting the collar of his sweater.

Cally did a quick inventory of my appearance, declared me “all set,” then flipped the lock and threw the door open—only to stop dead in his tracks.

“Fuck.” he whispered under his breath.

I peered past his shoulder to see Will leaning back against the opposite wall with his ankles crossed and his arms folded over his chest. One eyebrow was lifted high, a knowing smirk tipping his mouth to the side.

“If this is supposed to be a secret—” He waggled his finger back and forth between Cally and me. “—you probably shouldn’t lock yourselves in a bedroom for an hour.”

“Fuck you,” Cally bit out, taking a large step forward to invade Will’s space. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

The smirk slid right off Will’s face. He swallowed, tipping his head back to meet Cally’s glare. “Look, I wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t know …” His gaze flicked my way for a quick second before darting back to Cally. “I genuinely thought you were out, Callahan.”

Cally braced his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands sliding into the pockets of his dress pants. His posture appeared relaxed, but from my vantage point, I could see the tightness of his shoulders, the muscles of his back bunching under his expensive cashmere sweater. “I’m not.”

My heart gave a sickening lurch in my chest as Cally’s words registered—he hadn’t denied Will’s accusation, hadn’t snapped “I’m straight” or “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

It was the very first time I’d heard him admit the truth to anyone besides me. Confusion rocked through me, my sluggish, alcohol-soaked brain racing to keep up. Was it the bourbon loosening his tongue? Had he meant to say that, or had he slipped up in the heat of the moment? Did he even realize what he’d just done?

Will stared up at him, the last remnants of his cockiness completely evaporating. He held Cally’s gaze for a few long moments, then gave him a single nod. “Understood.”

He took a slow step to the side, looking between the two of us. “In that case, you should probably know my whole team knows,” Will said softly, his voice dropping so low there was zero risk of it carrying down the hall. “Your former captain … he, ah … he liked to brag about how good you were at sucking cock.”

The floor seemed to lurch beneath my feet, as air left my lungs. All the bourbon I’d drunk soured in my gut, and for a brief, terrifying second, I thought I was going to puke right there on Bell’s fancy carpet runner. I clenched my hands into tight fists, my nails biting painfully into my palms, and breathed through the nausea.

Fucking Devin.

I wanted to kill the guy all over again. I wanted to track him down and tear him apart with my bare hands. I wanted to⁠—

I caught myself, forcing my focus back to the man I loved. In my blind rage, I’d lost sight of the fact that my feelings didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was Cally.

I whipped my head toward him, my heart stopping at the sight that greeted me. Every drop of color had drained from his face, his freckles standing out brightly against overly pale skin. His expression was completely, terrifyingly blank, his eyes flat and lifeless and staring straight through Will like he wasn’t even there.

“Cally,” I murmured, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. His skin felt clammy, his pulse hammering erratically beneath my hold.

Will shifted on his feet, his expression turning grim. “I’m sorry,” he started, his voice pained. “I shouldn’t have⁠—”

Cally shook his head once, hard, as if to rattle loose the lock on his mind and bring him back to the present. “Do your uncles know?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Will chewed on his lip. “Ethan does. He wouldn’t say anything to Bell. He knows what it’s like to⁠—”

“I know his story,” Cally interrupted. “But Bell’s his husband.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Will said decisively.

“And no one on your team has said anything either?”