I laugh.
“—but I assumed it was because, as adults, it’s hard to make friends. It’s easy as a kid. You walk up to someone, and bam, you’re friends. You don’t seem clingy to me at all.”
“It’s taken six months of being alone for me to realise Ben was just coming up with excuses for his shitty behaviour. I like having a boyfriend, and I want it all one day, but there’s a difference between knowing what I want and being clingy. I want a boyfriend who actually wants to spend time with me.”
“Wow, you’re so demanding,” Law says dryly.
“My issues with Ben had nothing to do with my parents and everything to do with the fact he just didn’t want to settle down and wasn’t man enough to tell me.”
Law looks away. “In his defence, you’re young. You shouldn’t be thinking about settling down yet.”
“I’m only four years younger than you and Anders.”
“Do either of us look married?”
“Touché. Still, on my list of things I want to find, lying douches are on the bottom.”
Law does that nervous twitch thing, and I begin to wonder if he knows something about Anders and isn’t telling me. I can’t ask because I promised him I wouldn’t talk about his brother.
And when he goes back to watching the movie, I can’t bring myself to dig for an answer. Mainly because I don’t think I want to know.
I don’t make it to the end of the movie before sleep pulls me under.
“Reed?” someone whispers in the dark.
I bury my head in my pillow but then realise it’s hard. And not a pillow, but abs. Really nice abs.
“Anders?” I murmur and run my hand under his T-shirt. Damn, this guy’s body. All lean and hard. Wait … that doesn’t make sense. Anders never stays over, and—“Fuck.” I jump off the couch.
Law stays on the couch, blinking rapidly.
“Apparently I get molesty in my sleep,” I say.
He laughs. “It’s all good. We just fell asleep on the couch. No molesting happening here.” When he stands, he stretches his long body and my eyes gravitate to the tent in his boxers. Then I have to turn away because, fuck. Fuckity fucking fuck. “Reed. Stop freaking out. I’m cool. But, uh … I should go.” He dresses quickly while I continue to stand here like a moron, unable to say anything.
Then I realise I’m standing here with a hard-on, watching my fuck buddy’s brother put pants on and wondering why I’m wishing he wasn’t leaving.
I’m so screwed.
“Let me get this straight,” Brody says with a laugh. “Or … not straight as it would seem.”
I glare at my childhood friend over the candlelit dinner table. He picked this restaurant, claiming it’s the best in the city. It’s too upscale for my tastes. The murmurs from other tables are low and serious, and Brody’s laughter bounces off the ceiling-high glass windows that overlook the marina. This is a serious restaurant, where everything is dignified. I feel out of place, like a kid sitting at the grown-ups’ table. Especially with Brody laughing the way he is.
A waiter glares as he walks by, and I can’t help wondering if he makes more money than I do.
“Laugh it up,” I say to Brody. “This isn’t my life or anything.” I take a sip of the two-hundred-dollar red wine Brody ordered. It tastes like any other red wine. I’d make a terrible rich person.
Back when I knew Brody, it was all cheap beers his older brother could buy us and even cheaper cigarettes. Sitting in a fancy-ass restaurant while we sip on expensive wine—that he’s totally going to pay for because who the fuck pays that much money for wine?—I can’t believe this is where Brody Wallace ended up. My high school sweetheart. Or whatever. We weren’t much of sweethearts but more each other’s closeted fool-around friend.
We survived high school together. We let everyone believe we were best friends. We were way more than that, but there wasn’t anything beneath surface level. With a few handjobs and blowjobs passed between us, it’s not like we were serious. He’s a great guy and we went through the same thing at the same time together, but that’s about it. Like Law says, there’s an event that divides everyone’s timeline, and Brody was before my parents’ death. He left a few months before the car accident, so he belongs to my old life. When my parents died, I became an adult a lot faster than planned, and I’ve always seen Brody as a big part of my childhood I left behind.
His laughter dies down enough for him to get out, “You had a random hook-up with a guy who ended up being an identical twin to a guy you kinda work with. You befriended the teacher, are still sleeping with his brother, but you woke up on your couch two days ago wrapped up in the straight guy. Did I get that right or am I confused? Because that’s delightfully messy.”