Page 36 of Burden of Proof

“I miss my best friend,” I said.

“It sounds like you still have him.”

“It’s not the same.”

Hunter nodded, saying nothing.

“I’m friends with your brother,” I blurted, scrunching my nose. Something flashed across his face, but he stayed silent. “Smith, I mean.”

“He mentioned that at dinner.”

If Hunter knew Smith and I had fucked, he gave no indicator of it, and I didn’t know which was worse. If I was going to have to be the one to tell him, or if it was going to be Smith. Quickly, I weighed the options, thinking about Smith’s earnestness and eagerness and knew it had to be me.

“My older brother is fond of you as well,” Hunter said.

“Just wait until I meet the fourth one, and I’ll win them all over.” I laughed and took a deep breath, knowing there was no time like the present to bare all my truths. “I’ve had sex with Smith.”

Hunter sucked in a breath, the flickering change in his expression hardly noticeable. He was a lawyer after all, I reminded myself. Of course he would have an impeccable poker face.

“Have you now?” he asked quietly.

“Just once. It…” I scrubbed a hand down my face. “If you wanted to talk about a pity fuck—not that I pity your brother, he just…”

“He was a virgin,” Hunter guessed.

“He’d never been with a man.”

The gears turned, almost imperceptible twitches around the corners of his eyes. I rubbed my sweating palms on the pillow, wishing it was a blanket I could crawl into and use to hide from Hunter’s impassive stare.

“Have you and Silas had sex?” he asked me, which was the absolute last thing I expected.

The idea was preposterous.

“No.” It was impossible to hide the distaste from my face. “I’m not attracted to him.”

“You were kissing each other at Marshall’s. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Hunter leaned away from me, resting his back against the arm of the couch and propping one leg up on the cushions. Bent at the knee, he rested his forearm there, and the positioning was so detached I wanted to cry again.

“As friends,” I said.

“Do you kiss Smith as friends?”

“I never kissed Smith…” I trailed off, trying to read his face before continuing.

“What about Marshall?” Hunter asked next.

“I’ve never kissed him.”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t kiss Silas with any intent,” I said. “There’s no attraction there. We are friends, and we are affectionate. We are physical, but platonically. I haven’t kissed Smith, and I’ll never kiss Marshall.”

“You’ve never kissed me,” he rasped.

I tipped my head back and stared up at his color-washed ceiling.

“No,” I said softly. “I haven’t.”