Page 116 of Love By Design

With the last few words, I turned my stare toward Finn. I’d been unable to get the vision of him kissing that clearly married woman out of my head. There’d been no opportunity between Wednesday and today to bring it up to him, and while he would have definitely called me out about it in front of everyone, I would never. I’d planned to take advantage of our first few minutes together at dinner to ask him about it, but Smith had arrived first and thrown that idea right out the window. Finn caught my stare and blinked at me slowly, his expression giving away nothing about whatever marital infidelity he was helping to facilitate.

“I do love him,” I told my brothers. “And I would like you to spend some time with him, but I also don’t think now is the best time.”

“I can do two things at once, Marshall.” Finn gestured vaguely with his hand, and I wondered just how true his statement would turn out to be in the end. “I can be angry Dad didn’t keep it in his pants while Hunter and I were in first grade and eager to meet the man who’s stolen my stoic older brother’s heart.”

“Exactly,” Hunter added.

“Well, next Friday is out if Andrew will be here.”

The three of them paused, then nodded in a slow kind of agreement.

“The week after that?”

“You know we can see each other on days that don’t start with F, right?”

“He’s starting a new job on Monday, and he needs time to settle in.”

“He’s not working with Stanley anymore?” Smith asked,the earlier frown having finally leveled out into something that almost resembled a straight line across his face.

“His dad—” I paused, unsure if it was my story to tell or not. After a beat, I settled on the CliffsNotes version. “He’s not working with his dad anymore.”

Hunter and Finn gave me matching amused expressions across the table, arched brows and all. They really could have been twins in every sense of the word besides the one that counted the most.

“Where’s his new job?” Finn asked.

“You can ask him in two weeks.”

“You’re no fun.”

“So you say,” I drawled, favoring a drink of wine over more conversation with Finn.

“I’ll tell him yes then,” Hunter blurted, and the tension was back.

“Yes,” I said for the rest of us. “I’ll make a reservation on Monday and send everyone the information. You can pass it along.”

“Okay.”

The waiter came by to check on our drinks and, as if on cue, my stomach growled loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“Are we ready to order?” the waiter asked, and beside me, Smith finally laughed.

We’d gone from dinner to a nightcap when Silas texted me about going to Rapture with Lincoln. I read and re-read the message on my phone, Finn’s animated voice while he told Smith and Hunter a story about something that definitely didn’t have to do with whatever he’d been doing at dinner last Wednesday, then gave Silas my answer.

A lesser man might have said no.

Hell, my first instinct had been to say no, but not because I was jealous or worried about Silas cheating on me. He was definitely attractive enough to do that if he wanted—which I doubted was the case—but I was more worried about his safety. He hadn’t been to Rapture since the night we’d met there, since his assault, and I wasn’t sure how returning to the scene of that almost-crime would sit with him. I took reassurance in knowing he had Lincoln with him, and even though Lincoln was femme and flighty, he loved Silas as much as I did—maybe more, while also differently.

If I wasn’t threatened by their friendship, there was no need for me to be threatened by the two of them having a night out together. It was unreasonable to assume their Fridays would always consist of them being holed up in their apartment together watching movies and eating takeout. Especially while I was out myself.

Their apartment.

I rolled those words around in my head, not liking the sound of them. I liked Silas in my home and my space, but I wagered until I thought of it as ours, I had no right to ask him to give up the former. I was too buzzed on wine to have that conversation or those thoughts, so I shoved them into the back of my head.

During our text exchange, I’d given Silas instructions about what to wear and where to go at the end of his night, and I hadn’t asked for proof or confirmation of either. There was already a trust between us that meant I didn’t have to, and I hoped he’d noticed that during our text exchange. Even as I sat at the bar with my brothers, enjoying a fresh glass of wine, I had no idea if Silas was out at the club, at his apartment, or on his way back to my house. The uncertainty didn’t bother me, and it was a new and unruly thing to have that sort of confidence in the devotion of another person whom I wasn’t related to.

The four of us finished our drinks and said goodnight just before midnight.

When I got home from dinner, Silas was in the shower. My dick immediately pulsed against my thigh, knowing what he was doing in there…what he was getting ready for. Even if I had no plans of fucking him, Silas followed orders. He knew what was expected, and he always delivered.