Page 106 of Burden of Proof
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I promise.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Smith, it’s…I get it.” I slung an arm around my brother’s shoulder and started us both toward the restaurant. “Lincoln’s relationship with his friends is different than most people. His work is also…” I stopped myself from saying different than most, considering there was a time when he and I both had done different flavors of the same work. “Moral of the story, I know you didn’t mean it poorly.”
“I’m sorry, Hunter,” he mumbled. “I’ve not been myself lately.”
I imagined it was hard being Smith, on account of the fact he idolized Marshall very nearly to the point of detriment, and Marshall had just gently slid all of us, Smith included, out of being his first priority in life. It was like all of us seeing a different side of him for the first time, and while I was happy my brother was happy, I was not happy my other brother was not.
“There’s been a lot of changes,” I agreed.
We stepped up in front of Cunningham’s, and I pulled the door open. Smith slipped inside first, waving a friendly hello to the hostess who looked at him like he hung the moon. I gave her a curt wave and jogged after my brother, snagging him before we got to the table.
“The hostess is pretty,” I said to him.
Smith frowned, looked over his shoulder in the direction we’d come from. “What? Oh. Yeah, she’s okay.”
“Do you…I know you slept with Lincoln, Smith. Do you prefer men?”
My youngest brother rolled his eyes at me, looking like a petulant teenager all over again. “I don’t prefer anybody.”
“Is there a label for that?”
We came around the corner, and I saw Finn and Marshall already at our usual booth, both of them relaxed in some casual conversation. Drinks for all four of us were already on the table, Finn’s mostly empty and Marshall’s nearly full.
“No. I mean, maybe. But what I meant is I haven’t thought about it at all.”
I figured that was a lie, but I wasn’t going to press the conversation in front of smartass Finn and doting father figure Marshall. Smith sank down into the booth beside Marshall, and I took my seat beside Finn. He glanced up at me, looking more himself than he had in weeks. Sometimes, I wished I knew more about these Neil and Annette people so I could track them down and ask them what the hell they were doing fucking around with my brother. Why had they hurt him so carelessly?
But I also knew, even if I did have a way to get in touch with them, I wasn’t privy to my brother’s sex life, just like none of them were aware of mine…though maybe things with me and Lincoln were a little more open book than if I had ended up with someone else. Silas knew what Lincoln did for work, and Finn knew what I’d dabbled in. Marshall most certainly knew about Lincoln, but I hoped Finn had held my confidence about my little experiments in sex work.
The night I’d come clean with him, I thought the floor was going to fall out from under me, but Finn had taken my secrecy mostly in stride. If anything, my confession had opened a new door for us to share more than we had before. Finn and I hadalways been close, but I felt closer to him now than I ever had. At least, I did when he wasn’t turned upside down about the married couple he’d gotten involved with.
“Are you excited for tomorrow?” Marshall asked, drawing me out of my brain and back to the table.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Oh, right.
“Yeah, I am actually.” Before leaving work, I’d chatted a little with Winters about the gathering Saturday. It was meant to be small and celebratory, no more than fifty people by most counts and a fair percent of the attendee group being my brothers.
“Is Andrew coming?” Finn asked.
“He is.”
“Is he staying the night?”
I shrugged and took a sip of my vodka soda. “We haven’t talked about it. I’m sure if he wanted to stay, he would get a hotel.”
“Can he afford it?” Finn pressed.
“I don’t know what his financial situation is, Finn,” I said to my brother, somewhat annoyed at the line of questioning.
“Just ours then?”
Ah. It was the jealousy talking.
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