Page 7 of Unfaithfully Yours

SIX

Ryan

“Is he okay?”

I followed Ollie's gaze to Kamran, who I was pretty sure, was on his sixth pint already and swaying around the pool table, missing every shot even though he kept insisting on rematches. Dave didn't mind. In fact, he loved it, grinning like a loon every time he won again.

I wasn’t surprised that Ollie had noticed it this time. Kamran was hiding his mood even less today than he had yesterday.

“I'm sure he's fine,” I finally said, just as Kamran's pool cue slipped through thin air, missing the ball entirely. It took him a minute to realize what had happened and then he straightened, cursed, and flung his cue onto the table, clearly done.

“I'm out,” he said toward us, shrugging.

He downed the rest of his pint and without saying anything, a scowl still plastered across his face, he went toward the bar.

Grimacing, I stood there, foot tapping anxiously as I watched him.

The boys didn't know the details. If I hadn't been at his place on the day he'd found out, I probably wouldn't know either.

“What about you, Ryan?” Dave asked, pulling my attention back to his devilish grin. “Want to get creamed again?”

“No way,” I retorted. “Me and Ollie are having a game. You’ve been hogging the table.”

He grumbled but let us play, constantly trying to adjust us and back-seat drive, which was an impressive feat to pull off for a pool game.

I wasn’t too bad with my angles though, so he ended up helping Ollie when he started to lose. Despite Dave’s interference, I still ended up winning.

“I’m not used to this,” I said, grinning, but the high was short lived because my gaze automatically scanned the pub, searching for Kamran.

He was still at the bar, sitting alone with his head bowed over yet another empty pint glass. Something about the slump of his shoulders made me want to hug him again. I just wanted to squeeze him.

It was the booze talking, I supposed. Alcohol plus Kamran sad equaled hugs and kisses. It was basic math.

I wasn’t sure how to handle him anymore. I wanted so badly to go check on him, but felt like I shouldn’t. It would make it too obvious that I knew something was wrong.

“Go after him,” Ollie suggested. “Seems like he's spiraling over something lately.”

I tore my gaze away from Kamran, realizing that both of the guys were standing next to me, observing him as well.

“Why me?” I asked uneasily.

They both gave me a funny look.

“Because he's your bestie?” Ollie reminded me slowly.

“He listens to you,” Dave added.

I shook myself, remembering that was how it always was with us. Me and Kam always came as a pair. Nothing unusual there. It was probably weirder for me to avoid it.

“Right,” I said. “I'll go check on him.”

I turned and beelined straight for the spot where he was sitting at the bar.

His face was now in his hands and he didn't look up when I took the spare stool next to him. It took the bartender sliding another pint in front of his face for him to finally lift his head.

“You might want to slow down,” I said, and Kamran jumped so hard I may as well have shouted in his ear.

He swiveled in his seat toward me, and stared like he was seeing a ghost.

“At this rate, you’re going to end up needing someone to carry you home,” I said, grimacing but choosing to carry on.

He blinked, glared, and then slid me his beer.

Shit. Dave was right. Kamran really did listen to me.

I took a swig of the drink he’d given me, using it to distract from the fact that I could barely look Kamran in the eye today.

Guilt filled me even more than it had been doing all week. He'd shown up here looking even worse than he had yesterday, like he hadn't slept a wink in days, but for some reason even the dark circles under his eyes made him look good. More rugged or something.

God, I was so fucked up for him. Always had been, but now I knew what his lips tasted like, how good his body felt under me…

I glanced over, not meaning to do it, my eyes tracing the curves of his biceps and shoulders and, damn.

I appreciated that someone who worked so hard at his day job still found time to work out.

He had mostly kept his college form, but softened a bit which only made him look more huggable in my opinion.

Remembering that I wasn’t supposed to be checking him out, for fucks sake, I glanced up.

He wasn't watching me ogle him, thank God . His gaze was fixed absently on the bottles behind the bar. He was scowling and, something told me, reminiscing about something Melissa had really fucked him up bad, hadn’t she?

“You fucked me up,” Kamran said and this time, it was my turn to jump in my seat.

I had to set my drink down before I could look at him, shock and apprehension radiating through me.

Please don’t tell me I’m the reason you’re like this.

“I'm supposed to be thinking of what to do about my wife,” he went on. “Not my best friend.”

Fuck.

“I'm sorry,” I said, heart in my throat.

He shook his head, grinding his teeth.

“I kissed her today, but she wouldn't kiss me back.”

My stomach twisted, pained for him because it would be so awful to kiss the person who you loved and not have it returned... It hit me then, I had done that last weekend and had my kiss reciprocated. I bit my lip at the thought.

That was why he was thinking about our kiss, wasn’t it? I’d kissed him but his own wife wouldn’t.

“Have—have you spoken to her about everything yet?” I choked.

He shook his head at once.

“Nope. Tried a couple times but never got around to saying point blank that I know what’s going on,” he said. “Part of me thinks that if I ignore it, things might go back to how they were.”

He looked at me, his eyes red.

“They might, right?”

My heart was too fucking weak for this.

I reached out, gripping his shoulder and squeezing.

“I don't know, man,” I said honestly. “I don't think that's fair to you.”

He shut his eyes, swallowing.

“So, what's fair then?” he asked. “Losing my home? My wife?”

I didn't know what to say to that and Kamran didn't need me to say anything at all because he kept talking.

“I feel so fucking worthless.”

I shook my head.

“Don't say that, Kam.”

“It's true. Why doesn't she want me?”

He looked at me as though I would have the answer to that question but I fucking didn't. Melissa was literally, certifiably, insane .

“Kamran,” I said slowly. “She must have hit her head or something.”

He stared at me for a moment and then suddenly burst into laughter.

His shoulder bumped into mine, jostling me playfully.

“You're not even joking, are you?” he asked, still grinning.

I shook my head, taking another swallow of beer to avoid looking at him.

“No,” I finally said, seriously. “She'd actually have to be crazy to risk losing you.”

The smile was gone from his lips when I once again hazarded a glance his way. And he wasn't gazing out into space anymore. No, those pretty green eyes were focused on me.

When our gazes met, he smiled softly.

“How much easier would it have been if it was you?” he asked.

I stared, hoping he wasn't going down the road I thought he was.

“If we were married, you wouldn't cheat on me,” he said. “You would make me feel special.”

“Kamran,” I choked.

For a long minute I couldn't even think what to say and sat there floundering.

“You are special,” finally burst from my mouth.

Kamran chuckled.

“See?”

“And you're straight ,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, shrugging. “That's what I'm saying. Too bad we're straight, right?”

Despite the way he swayed a bit in his seat and the slight slur to his words, I felt like I was walking into a carefully constructed trap.

“Uh. Yeah,” I said. “Too bad.”

“Uh huh,” he agreed, still eyeing me. “And too bad your lips feel so nice...”

I took a shuddering breath, my eyes flying around the bar to see if anyone was listening.

It was busy tonight. There was probably a line outside by now, but despite the crowd, no one was looking at us. It felt oddly intimate sitting here like we were alone.

After a moment, I spotted Ollie and Dave at a table, talking to some girls.

“I should get you home,” I said.

The moment I did, Kamran stiffened.

“No. Fuck. Please don't make me go home. I'm fine, ” he whined.

I chuckled.

“Come on, we can grab pizza on the way.”

He groaned.

“Yes to pizza, I'm fucking starving, but no to home... I don't know if he’ll still be there.”

It was like being dunked in cold water. Whatever drop of alcohol there was clouding my system froze and then evaporated. I hadn't thought of Kamran's current reality. The fact that he was scared to go home in case another man was there was hard to swallow, and it wasn't even my bed, or my spouse.

I looked at Kamran's sweet, open face. He was the type of guy that could be read like a large print book.

Even though he was masculine in features and body, he looked soft and breakable.

He made me want to hold him and protect him on the best of days and looking at him now, at the fear and unease on his face, all I could think was that he didn't fucking deserve this. And I was going to fix it.

“You're coming to my place,” I said firmly. “We're getting pizza and eating and then you're crashing with me, and in the morning, I'm going to help you figure out what comes next.”

He stared at me and then the tension seemed to seep out of his body.

He bowed his head, gaze on the table.

“That sounds good,” he said quietly, and my entire heart melted at the level of trust he had in me.

I pushed to my feet, helped Kamran to his with a hand gripping his arm, and then didn’t release him as I led him out of the bar.

The others didn't notice, and I didn't bother saying anything to them. I was like a dog with a bone.

All I wanted was to get Kamran home and make everything better for him. There wasn't much I could do to fix things for him when it came to his relationship, but I could do everything he needed from the sidelines as he navigated this ordeal.