Page 45 of Love By Design

“It’s not his business,” he said again. “But I’m also not interested in keeping secrets. If you belong to me, I want everyone to know it. Including my brothers, including your best friend, including your father.”

I blinked hard, grunting at how the conversation had already gotten away from me. From fucking to dating tobelonging. And I didn’t know what to do besides laugh. It started as a breathy exhale, then turned into something that had my stomach quivering and my eyes watering. The whole thing was so preposterous. How had I gone from what my life had been two weeks ago to what it was now?

“Come over tonight,” Marshall pressed. “Let me see you again. Silas, I haven’t even kissed you yet?—”

“I can’t,” I said quietly, pressing my fingertips against my bottom lip. “Lincoln was ordering us takeout when you called.”

“Tomorrow then. Come over after work.”

“And what?” I rasped.

“We’ll get dinner. We’ll negotiate. We’ll set some rules.”

“Rules about what?”

“What happens next,” he said.

I put my phone on speaker and set it beside my head, then I rolled onto my side, halfway into a fetal position. All of the nerves in my body had disconnected themselves and then put their structure back together wrong. Everything inside of me was misfiring, sparking, smoldering.

“Alright,” I agreed, sounding breathier than I ever had before.

There was a small pause and then Marshall asked, “What did Lincoln get you for dinner?”

“Chinese.”

“Rice or noodles?”

“Rice for me,” I said.

“White?”

“Fried.”

The inquisition over my preferences in Chinese takeout had no right sounding as sexy as it did, but every word out of Marshall’s mouth was enough to light me up. It was a relief in some ways to have heard his earlier confessions. To know he didn’t date but wanted to date me. That he’d told one of his brothers about me. I wasn’t the only one here out of my depth.

“What do you want for dinner tomorrow?” he asked.

The answer came quickly. “I want you to choose.”

On the other end of the call, Marshall sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ll choose,” he agreed.

My dick was hard over a conversation about dinner, and it was nearly impossible to breathe.

“Do you need to go now?” he asked.

I glanced at the door, knowing that even though he hadn’t knocked, there was no way Lincoln wasn’t close. I’d been cagey with him about how the night with Marshall had gone because I didn’t want to sound like an overeager child, but knowing things were balanced between us…I wasn’t so scared to tell my best friend anymore.

“Lincoln is probably waiting for me.”

“I’ll let you go then. Come over after work tomorrow. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he whispered back to me, the smile loud through the speaker. “Have a good night, Silas.”

“Goodnight, Marshall.”

The call had no sooner disconnected than Lincoln was knocking on—and opening—my door. I rolled to the side to make room for him, but the way he launched himself at me it was hard to avoid the impact of his body on top of mine. The breath left both our lungs with a whoosh, and I choked, shoving him off so I could get into a more upright position.