Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle #3) - Jocelynn Drake Page 0,28
sounding so very smug.
“Lucien also said you’re sexy. Wiley agreed.”
There was a long silence before Cort gave a nervous chuckle. “Are you asking if I think I’m sexy?”
“Nope. Just repeating what I heard.”
“Then tell them thanks, I guess.” For the first time since he’d met the man, Cort sounded a little uneasy. As if Grey had finally located ground that Cort didn’t feel comfortable with.
Grey sat for a moment, poking at his jaw with his tongue. It kind of felt wrong not to say anything. Lucien was a great guy, and he was clearly interested in Cort. And his therapist was also a great guy, and he deserved to be happy. Just because something in Grey absolutely hated the idea of Lucien dating Cort didn’t mean he should keep them apart. He’d watched Clay and Baer fall happily in love. He wanted the same for Lucien. It was just a shame that he couldn’t see if Cort was his soul mate.
Just as he was taking a breath to speak, Cort spoke up.
“Are you and Lucien dating?”
Grey’s head jerked upright, his hand pulling in Cort’s. “No. We’re friends. Just friends. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I was wondering, because I noticed that the other four people in the house were couples, but then there was you and Lucien…”
“Oh, no. Only friends. He is a great guy, though. Funny, intelligent, caring. I know he’d like to go out with you if you’re single.”
“Ummm…”
“Wait. Shit. Are you straight? Shit, I’m sorry. All my friends are gay, and I’m bi. I think I’ve started to believe my whole world is like that and—”
Cort’s deep laugh stopped Grey’s stumbling words. “Man, I’m gay. It’s good. I’m just giving you shit.”
Grey reached out his free hand, trying to swipe at Cort but he could feel the man pull away just enough to stay out of his reach as he laughed harder. “Asshole. You’d be perfect for Lucien. He’s good at being an asshole too.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think Lucien is my type.”
Cocking his head to the side, he tried to focus on Cort’s words rather than think about the feeling of loss when Cort released his hand and started to gather up all his supplies on the table. “No offense to your friend. He seems like a really nice guy, but he strikes me as more of a sports car and I’m more of a…”
“Minivan?” Grey supplied.
“Watch it. I’ve never slugged a patient, but you’re asking for it.” Grey snickered at Cort’s threat, not believing for a second that he was in danger. “I was thinking more of an entry-level BMW or Lexus. Just a little bit fancy, but reliable. I’ll get you where you’re going and make sure you enjoy the ride.”
There was sooooo much he wanted to say about the analogy, but Grey thought it might be wiser to let it slide. “And the sports car?”
“All about speed and flashiness. Racing from one fun thing to the next. Nothing wrong with it. Just not my style.”
“Not a bad assessment. Especially considering Lucien owns a Porsche.”
“Man, I just stepped all in that one.” There was something in his voice. Grey could imagine him smiling and shaking his head.
“Yeah, but it was funny.”
“I can tell. You’re smiling again. And I’ve got you all bandaged up. You did a good job of it last night.” The praise was a bitter thing to swallow since Grey had done this all to himself in the first place. “How are you feeling?”
Grey closed his eyes and dragged in a deep breath. He actually considered Cort’s question rather than tossing out an answer. “Better. Calmer.” But it ran deeper than that. He always felt calmer, more at peace when Cort was around. It was like the man had the ability to encase him in a protective bubble or maybe filter out some of the overwhelming noise so that the world was a little more manageable.
“Will you tell me what happened?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I know, but I’d feel better if you did. Just a little. Right now, all I’ve got to go off is that your apartment is trashed, you’re hurt, and you refuse to see your friends. There are a lot of things that could have happened, but my main concern is if you had an argument with someone and—”
Grey jumped to his feet and stumbled backward a step. “You think one of my friends did this? Th-that someone attacked me?”