Coffee, we’re going to be really good buddies today.
I grumble some profanity as I push myself to my feet.
Like he always does, Ian’s got the bathroom door open to let the cool air in now that the shower has steamed everything up. He’s halfway through shaving when I lean against the doorframe. He glances at me as he rinses his razor.
“You’re awake.”
“Well, that’s being generous.” I yawn and rub my eyes again.
“Can’t sleep?”
I shake my head. “Might as well get up and get moving.”
“Thinking about Michael?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“No.” He tilts his head back and draws the razor up his neck. “But I was thinking about him a lot last night too.”
I shift uncomfortably. “Were you?”
“Kind of hard not to.” He glances at me, but then continues focusing on shaving. As he works his way along the side of his throat, he says, “Even if I hadn’t gotten physically involved, I’m still worried about the guy. And after I got involved…”
I raise my eyebrows.
He rinses his razor and glances at me again. “I don’t know. I guess I just felt more…invested. I’ve always cared about him, first because he was your friend, and then because he was also mine. And I guess getting physical with someone…”
It’s a struggle not to shift and fidget, especially as we both silently watch his reflection while he finishes his neck and jaw. If Ian’s gotten in deeper now that they’ve gotten physical, what does that mean for me?
That’s probably not something I want to think about. Especially not before I’ve had coffee.
Ian finishes shaving and dries his face. “Sink’s all yours.”
“Thanks.”
In silence, we go about our routines, and despite the tight quarters, we don’t get underfoot. After all this time, we’ve mastered the art of staying out of each other’s way. Especially since we’ve had to do this with a rambunctious boxer and, at times, a tripping hazard cat in the way.
As I finish brushing my teeth, Ian comes back in, buttoning his crisp white shirt, his shirttails untucked and his tie draped over his shoulders.
“You going to be okay today?”
“I’ll manage.” I shrug as I rinse my toothbrush. “We’ve got that high octane coffee at work now. I should be able to stay awake.”
“That’s not the part I’m worried about.”
I meet his eyes in the mirror. “Yeah. That. I’m, um, having lunch with him today. I’ll find out how last night went.”
He rests his chin on my shoulder and wraps his arms around my waist. “Let me know?”
“I will. Definitely.”
Neither of us speaks, and he doesn’t let me go. It’s way too early in the morning for awkward silence, but there it is.
After a while, Ian finally says, “Listen, um…” He breaks eye contact but nuzzles the side of my neck, as if he wants to avoid my gaze but still maintain this affectionate embrace. “Maybe it’s just as well that Michael’s back on his own two feet now.”
Of course it is. It’s great that he’s confident enough to pursue something with another man. But I don’t think that’s what Ian’s getting at.
I reach back and rest my hand in his short hair. “Why’s that?”
“Because I’m starting to think this isn’t healthy anymore.” He kisses the back of my shoulder. “For you. It’s eating you alive.”
I lower my hand and sigh.
Ian keeps his eyes down. “If he does need more of this, we need to think about how long we let it continue. Before you start doing more damage to yourself than—”
“I’ll be fine.” I gently free myself and turn around. “Really. I will.”
He scowls and rests his hand on the back of my neck. “I want to believe that, but I know you.” He draws me in for a soft kiss. “You’re the kind of person who’d get yourself killed pulling someone out of a burning building.”
“I’m not saving him from a burning building.”
“Not literally, but you are going to be collateral damage if you’re not careful.”
“Then what do you think I should do?” I wrap my arms around his waist. “What should we do?”
“Well, last night will be a test of how far he’s really come. Maybe he’s ready to move on, and that’s great. But if he’s not…” Ian chews his lip. “That’s where things could get tricky. Because I want us both to see this through for his sake, but I also want to put a stop to it for yours. Except if he still needs us after last night, then that’s the worst possible time for us to call time on it, and…” Ian shakes his head. “How am I supposed to tell a wounded man he can’t have more of what helps him?”
My heart falls into the pit of my stomach. Pulling my husband close, I whisper, “I don’t know. I have no idea what we’re supposed to do now.”
“Talk to him. See how last night went.” Ian kisses my forehead. “Then we’ll all figure out where to go from there.”
I nod, not sure what else to say. I can’t explain my feelings to Ian. Not until I sort them out in my own head, anyway.
Ian glances at his watch. “Damn. I have to go.” He cups my neck in both hands and presses his lips to mine. “We’ll talk over dinner tonight. Okay?”