Page 115 of B is for Beg

“I was thinking your place.”

“Your apartment is nicer. And that view.” He whistles appreciatively.

“The view of my arse is nice.”

Gabe hums. “I was talking about the view out of your window, but yes, your arse is very nice.”

“You have a playroom,” I point out. “And more room in general.”

“True. Maybe we could see if there’s a three-bed apartment in your block to rent. With three of us contributing to rent, we should be able to afford it.”

I grin. “I take it you’re open to the idea.”

“Yes,” Gabe says hesitantly. “But only if our boy is too. It needs to be something we’re all in on.”

“Like musketeers?” I ask.

Gabe laughs. “Weren’t there four of them?”

“Three plus D’Artagnan.”

“That makes four.”

“No. D’Artagnan wasn’t a musketeer for most of the book.”

“Huh. I think I saw the cartoon.”

I burst out laughing. “The cartoon?”

“You know, with the dogs?”

“Oh man, you’vegotto read the book. I’ll buy you a copy.”

“Hmm… you could read it to Blake and me,” Gabe suggests. “A chapter a night.”

“You know it’s an adventure and political intrigue story, right? Not one of Lee Lawson’s books.”

Lee Lawson is the pen name Hamish writes gay erotica under. I’ve got every book he’s published under his nom de plume.

“You can read us one of those too,” Gabe says. “Your voice is far sexier than mine.”

“I might have to disagree with you on that,” I say in a purring tone.

“Stop.” The word might be a protestation, but Gabe’s tone of voice is light and bubbly. “We shouldn’t get carried away,” he says in a more serious tone. “We need to talk to Blake. He mightwantto live alone for a while.”

“I wondered if he was upset because neither of us has mentioned it.”

“You think?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.Something’sbothering him. He’snevergot sarcastic with either of us before. It’s not like him.”

“He’ll talk to us when he’s ready,” Gabe says. “It’s not something we can push.”

“I know.”

I wish Blake was ready to talk to us now. I don’t like the thought that our boy is dealing with whatever’s making him unhappy alone. We’re his Doms. We’re supposed to take care of him, but right now, he’s not letting us.

“Why would he want to live alone?” I ask, returning to our previous topic.