Chapter 3 #3
“I have.”
“How many?”
“I’m not going to start counting, but ten, fifteen? Somewhere in that range. He was my late husband’s closest friend when I met Malcolm, so inevitably, I met Marc.”
“I…didn’t know you were married.”
“Or a widower,” I said with a smirk at his discomfort. “Oh, get that look off your face. Malcolm passed years ago. I’m not going to get weepy on you, even if I have one too many drinks tonight.”
Okay, well, that last bit wasn’t guaranteed.
It had been years since Malcolm’s passing, that was true, and the grief at his death wasn’t the strangling miasma it had been.
Even six months after his passing, I had still been trapped in that thick fog which refused to let me go, refused to let me navigate life as a functioning person.
It had been Marc who had finally done what no one else had been willing to do, practically busting down my apartment door and forcing me to take a shower, eat something, and let him clean up the disaster area my once shared apartment had become.
Even then, it had been an uphill battle, one that Marc couldn’t stick around for because he had his work to deal with, but he never left me alone either.
He let me grieve, let me be heartbroken and even fall, but he never let me stay there, wallowing, ever again.
I probably would have gotten myself together, but I wasn’t so proud and independent as to believe I should do it on my own.
Deep down, I thought maybe it was Marc’s way of dealing with his grief at losing his best friend.
That by helping me, he could work through his feelings of loss and sorrow.
So no, I wasn’t that mess anymore, but that didn’t mean the grief was gone.
I learned that grief wasn’t some respectful thing that eventually realized it had overstayed its welcome.
It wouldn’t one day tip its hat, bid me a good life, walk out the front door, never to be seen again.
No, grief was like a ghost; it lingered in your halls; it kept a place for itself in your home…
in your heart. Its hauntings grew quieter, less frequent, and after years, the days when the weight of the loss was hard to bear were outweighed by the days where I was myself, unburdened by the weight of that loss.
I had loved Malcolm, and he had loved me, and now I would gladly bear the cost in sorrow to remember that fact.
Luka wrinkled his nose. “Showing you sympathy like I would anyone else would feel weird as hell. But I’m not going to be a dick about it. So…sorry about your late husband, really, but, uh—”
“Oh God,” I said, seeing the hesitancy on his face. “If you’re thinking before speaking, whatever you’re going to say must be a doozy.”
“I just…your late husband’s best friend? That’s who you have a crush on?”
I was tempted to make sure he never touched alcohol again, as my face warmed. “I do not have a crush on…anyone. Thank you. A mild, manageable attraction toward someone who is objectively attractive is not a crush.”
“Oh, right, of course,” Luka said with a sage nod. “Because when you see him, all you feel is a little arousal. There’s no fluttering in your chest, no squirming in your gut, no desire to—”
“All those things are attraction, not a crush,” I pointed out and then added, “And no, I do not.”
“I think you’re lying. But I can’t prove it, so I guess we’re stuck staring at each other.”
“Well, since you seem to be uncomfortable sitting here staring at each other, we can always go back to the party,” I said, standing up.
Only for him to say, “Ever wonder what he looks like naked?”
I gripped the arm of the chair and glared at him. “No.”
“So, you’re attracted to him, just physically, of course.
Because there’s no way you could be physically attracted to someone you’ve worked alongside for years, clearly have a great friendship with…
that could never lead to other feelings,” he said so lightly that if it wasn’t for the fact that he was clearly trying to be a shit, it would almost be believable.
“But you’ve never once thought about what he looked like under those tailored suits? ”
To lie would be too obvious; denying it would be just as guilty, and telling the truth was…
out of the question. Because, of course, I’d wondered what he looked like without his clothes on.
I had fought like hell not to imagine it, but the thought entered my head.
And yes, those tailored suits did a lot of the work in letting me have at least an idea of what he looked like naked.
He wore clothes in a size that didn’t put on full display what his body looked like, but it didn’t hide it either.
I still wasn’t sure where he found the time and opportunity to work out, as I’d almost never seen him at the resort gym, but he clearly had to be working out.
I’d seen enough hints to know he kept his stomach flat; his forearms were occasionally on display and showed toned muscle, and I couldn’t be convinced that an ass as plump as his could come from just sitting at a desk all day.
“If you’re going to pry into my head and figure out what fantasies or dirty thoughts I’ve had about one of your bosses, you’re going to be sorely disappointed,” I said, with a shake of my head.
“I think I’ve shared enough information to make up for your hurt feelings.
That is unless you want to tell me how hung Rowan is, or how good he is in bed. ”
Luka stared at me. “Wow, you’re…going there, huh?”
“You were the one asking if I ever thought about Marc naked,” I reminded him. “And while you’re only on your second drink, I don’t trust that the next question won’t be details about what I did or didn’t imagine if I ever did imagine him naked.”
“Hmm,” Luka said, setting his glass aside and holding up his hands in front of me. He squinted, palms facing one another before pulling his hands apart, then a little closer together and squinted harder before nodding and holding his hands up. “There’s a good approximation for you.”
“I…” my question stopped as I realized what he was telling me. “Jesus, I can’t decide if I should be concerned that you’re willing to share that with me, or deeply concerned for your insides.”
“And he’s phenomenal in bed,” Luka said, reaching down to take his drink. “Now…your turn.”
“No, it is not. There’s nothing to share,” I said with a sigh. “And if there was something, I wouldn’t be obligated to share it with you just because you decided to overshare.”
But maybe it would be a good idea for him to get a colonoscopy just to be sure…one not performed by his boyfriend’s dick.
“You are no fun,” Luka said with a disgruntled huff. “You won’t even share a little about Mr. Shepherd?”
I glared at him because…yeah; it was tempting.
I mean, there was no way I could share the same level of information.
I had no idea what Marc was like in bed; hell, I had precisely zero evidence to support that he had ever been with a man, let alone how good he was.
I also had no idea what he looked like naked, and I was trying to keep it that way.
Even when he wasn’t working, he wore loose pants and a regular shirt, so it wasn’t like he had ever accidentally given a peek at what he looked like under his clothes.
And I definitely wouldn’t have peeked if given the opportunity, no sir.
My body went rigid when I heard Marc’s amused voice behind me. “I’m terrified to think what sort of things Reggie could share with you after he’s been drinking.”
Before I could turn, Luka’s eyes went wide, and he fumbled to stand up. “Oh God, hey, hi, what are you doing here?”
His awkward fumbling only made me more confused before I constructed my expression in such a way that it wouldn’t be obvious that Marc had accidentally stumbled onto a conversation he wasn’t supposed to know about.
It was only when I turned around that I realized Luka wasn’t being weird because Marc might have overheard the ass end of our conversation.
No, the source of his weirdness was standing beside Marc.
The normally stony-faced Rowan had a softer expression as he watched Luka almost trip over his feet, bemused and affectionate.
“It’s a good thing we got the truth out in the open before this,” I muttered at Luka with a roll of my eyes. “Because that was about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face.”
“Shut up,” Luka growled at me, setting his glass aside. “I thought you were supposed to be flying out this morning?”
“I had to delay it for a meeting, but then Marc informed me about the staff party. He invited me, though I’m not technically staff,” Rowan said, and I could see his arm tense as Luka drew close.
I sighed. “We already know you two are a thing; you can hug him or whatever you were going to do.”
“I would prefer not to make a display of our relationship if it can be helped while we’re here,” Rowan said in a low voice. “You and Marc may have made peace with it, but I don’t think others would be as understanding.”
“Then give me a kiss real quick and shut it,” Luka said, snickering when Rowan gave him a pained expression…
and kissed him anyway. It was a quick, chaste thing, but I didn’t miss the way their eyes lingered on each other.
It was probably a good thing the staff rooms were just as soundproofed as the guest rooms, because I had a feeling this night was going to end with their clothes strewn about Luka’s room. “Are you…good to have a drink with me?”
Rowan’s face tightened slightly, but he forced a smile. “I should be fine. Because if I’m going to deal with a drunken Luka, I’m going to need some alcoholic lubrication.”