Page 42 of Missed Steps

I die inside.

“I thought you were coming tomorrow,” I say, my voice veryhigh.

“I arrived early,” Chris says, his tone level and unreadable.

I step away from Mark and clear my throat. “I have your room prepared…”

Mark shifts his weight, hand sliding to rest on my back as Chris stares at him.

“We can all go in?” I cast a questioning look at Mark. If he wants to ditch, I won’t hold it against him. He rubs my lower back and studies my expression before nodding.

“Come in,” I lead the way, with Mark right behind me.

He bends down. “Did you tell Chris about your leg?” he whispers into my ear as we cross the threshold.

“No. I was planning to when he arrived tomorrow.” My heart is calming down and I’m really glad that Mark doesn’t seem put off by the interruption. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he’d be here.”

“No worries,” Mark says. He straightens up as Chris follows us into the apartment.

Chris glances around the apartment as he approaches me. Mark steps back as Chris slips his rucksack from his shoulder to the ground and pulls me into a hug. It’s warm and familiar, and I hug him back twice as hard. “It’s good to see you,” he says.

I relax. “You, too.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Are you hungry?” I ask Chris. “Mark and I haven’t eaten yet, so I was going to put on a pizza.”

“That sounds good,” Chris says. “I haven’t had the chance to eat anything decent since the helicopter picked me up.”

“Great, okay. That door there leads to the spare bedroom if you want to leave your bags in. And there’s an en-suite, so if you need to shower or whatever, you can work away,” I explain, and then usher him toward the bedroom myself when he makes no move toward it. Chris gives a certified older-brother-look over his shoulder. He doesn’t have to say a word.

My cheeks flaming, I bite my lip. “Talk about it later, okay?”

“Fine,” Chris agrees.

I return to the kitchen, my face still hot as I dig out a pizza from the freezer. Mark rubs my shoulder. “Do you want me to go?” he asks.

“You can if you want to.”

“I’ll go if you want me to,” Mark says, turning it back on me.

“You can stay. If you’re not too embarrassed,” I add, because I certainly am feeling a dose of mortification. I can’t believe of all the moments for Chris to walk in on—

“Why would I be embarrassed?” Mark asks in good humour. “Because your older brother’s introduction to me involved a public hallway and my hand down your trousers?”

What I didn’t need was a reminder that Mark had been feeling my cock—with a layer of fabric of separation—only moments ago. I feel flighty, and I focus on putting the pizza into the oven. Mark rubs the back of my neck and I groan. “Mark.”

“I’d like to stay,” Mark says, ignoring my complaint. “If I leave now, he’ll think I’m just a hookup.”

I gaze up at him, and Mark narrows his eyes at me.

“Which I am not, right?”

I nod quickly.

Mark hums, satisfied with my answer. His fingers stretch from my neck to my scalp, pressing pleasantly into my hair. It feels good. I lean into his hand.

Mark withdraws just as the door to the guest bedroom reopens and Chris emerges. He’s changed into looser clothes. Mark flicks the switch on the kettle and then urges me to the kitchen island to sit.