Around ten thirty, Ian clicks off the TV. The animals jump off the couch, and we follow, though we’re both a little slower. Not that we’re old or anything, but a couple of tired thirty-somethings don’t quite spring to life the way a year-old boxer and a sassy Siamese do. Especially not this late on a Thursday evening.
From there, it’s the same routine as every night. Ian takes the dog out one last time. I top off the cat’s food and water while she tries to kill me with her mind. Then the animals commandeer as much of the bed as they can while we brush our teeth and Ian takes out his contacts. For two guys who hadn’t caught each other’s names until after we’d seen each other’s proverbial O-faces, a decade later we’ve slipped pretty comfortably into the quiet domestic life. And they say you can’t find love in a bathhouse.
Those days are behind us now, though, and after all the drama of our wilder years, we’re both quite content.
We rearrange the animals and climb into bed.
Ian doesn’t kill the light, though. “So, I was thinking.”
I shift onto my side and drape an arm over him. “About?”
“Michael.”
His name sends a jolt through me, jarring my already tense stomach.
Ian wraps his arm around my shoulders. “About his, um, situation.”
“Yeah?”
Ian studies me for a moment. “Maybe you can help him.”
I blink. “How?”
“He trusts you. He’s…” Ian hesitates. “He’s been with you. Maybe you’re what he needs right now.”
I stare at him because I’m not entirely certain I heard him correctly. “Come again?”
Ian takes my hand, lacing our fingers together on his stomach. “We both know you’re still attracted to him.”
Heat rushes into my cheeks. “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t… I’m not trying to… Ian, I’m—”
“Shh.” He squeezes my hand, and a smile plays at his lips. “I’m not making any accusations. You’re attracted to him. I have a crush on my boss.” He shrugs. “It’s life. We’re married, not castrated.”
“True.” I’m still guarded, though. “But we agreed to have a closed relationship.”
“We did. Except that was before either of us knew what happened to Michael.”
I’m still staring at him, struggling to comprehend that we’re even having this conversation.
“Josh, he’s your best friend. No one else in the world is as close to him as you are and has been physically intimate with him.” Ian traces the side of my thumb with his. “Under the circumstances, I’d say what you might be able to do for him trumps any need we have for monogamy.”
“But, I mean, even if you’re right, I don’t want to do some kind of damage to us.”
“You wouldn’t. I’m not suggesting you cheat on me. I know about it, and I’m endorsing it—it’s not cheating.” He brings my hand up and kisses the backs of my fingers. “You’d be helping him get his confidence back and undo some of the damage that motherfucker did to him.”
A shudder runs through me as my mind’s eye tries to show me what might have happened to Michael back then, and I tamp those thoughts down. “I don’t… I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“Talk to him.” Ian squeezes my hand again. “See if he’s even on board with the idea, and then play it by ear.”
I hold his gaze. “You’re really sure about this.”
“If it means getting him back to a better place so he can find a better relationship?” Ian nods. “Absolutely.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “What if I make things worse for him?”
“Josh.” Ian releases my hand and cups my cheek. “You’re the sweetest and most generous man I’ve ever been with. You and I both know you’d never push him further than he wanted to go, and you would never hurt him. There is literally nothing I can imagine you doing that would do more damage.”
“Still. He’s already gotten hurt so badly…”
“And I couldn’t imagine him being in better hands.”
I’m not so confident, but Ian is right about one thing—there’s no way in hell I would deliberately do anything to hurt Michael any more than I would do anything to hurt Ian. It’s the inadvertent stuff that worries me.
“Talk to him,” Ian says again. “Who knows? He might not even be interested. But if he is, just set rules and limits, take it slow, and maybe it’ll help.”
Fair enough. That I can do. Though I’m not completely sure how to broach that subject. Carefully, I guess. Still, despite my worries, I do feel better knowing there might be something I can actually do to help Michael get back to a better place. Might.
I meet Ian’s gaze and smile. “You’re amazing. You know that?”
He laughs softly and kisses the tip of my nose. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would.” I run my fingers through his hair. “Any rules?”
Ian seems to mull it over for a moment, but then shrugs. “I trust you. And him.” He pauses. “Just, you know, be honest with me about anything that’s going on. Not necessarily details, just…”
“Just be honest.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I will. I promise.”
Ian smiles. He lifts his head and kisses me softly. “We should get some sleep. Let me know how it goes when you talk to him.”
“You’ll be the first to hear.” I kiss him once more and then settle onto my pillow. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Chapter Three