happy. He also had love.
Monty, his boyfriend and former high school bully, had moved in with him beginning of December. Each time I saw them, they were poking fun at each other and bantering, but behind the taunts and laughs, there was so much love.
I liked to believe they were soul mates. Even when Monty had bullied Quinn in school, both of them were drawn to each other. Connected by something neither one could explain.
“Speak of the devil,” I answered my phone after it buzzed.
“You were talking about me?” Quinn asked.
“No, but I was thinking of you. Close enough. What’s up?”
“Get your ass over here for dinner,” Monty said from the background.
Quinn chuckled in my ear, and I heard a faint slap as he muttered, “You ass.” Then he said to me, “Do you want to have dinner with us? I’m cooking chicken alfredo. Dad’s coming over too.”
I wasn’t looking forward to getting back out in the cold, but staying in an empty house was even less appealing.
“Sure,” I responded. “I’d love to. Want me to bring anything?”
“Some wine, if you want.”
“I’ll be there in a few.”
After disconnecting the call, I bundled back up in my coat and threw on a scarf before leaving the house and driving to Quinn’s place. He lived in a quiet neighborhood with older homes, and his house was the last one on the street with a huge fenced-in backyard and a ton of trees. I parked in the driveway behind Monty’s truck and jogged toward the front porch, the two wine bottles clanking together in the bag.
“Hey,” Monty said after opening the door and letting me inside. He wore a red shirt that read Spartan Strong, and it had a stick person holding a sword below it. It looked like one of Quinn’s shirts.
“Hey, yourself.” I stepped into the house and shivered at the sudden shift of cold air to warm.
“Here, let me take that.” Monty grabbed the bag of wine from me.
“Why are you being so nice?”
“Pfft. I’m always nice.” Monty tossed me a smirk before walking toward the kitchen. I followed behind him, inhaling the aroma of chicken and spices. He placed the wine on the counter. “Ain’t that right, Specks?”
Quinn glanced over at us from his place at the stove. “Hmm?”
Monty approached him from behind and slid an arm around his chest, resting his face on Quinn’s nape. “I’m nice, right?”
“Only when you want something,” Quinn answered without missing a beat.
Monty grinned before kissing Quinn’s neck and stepping away.
A weird ache formed in my chest at seeing their intimacy. Part of it was jealousy. Quinn had been my best friend since elementary school. It was hard stepping aside and sharing him with someone. I was kind of a selfish bitch in that regard. Good thing I liked Monty.
The other reason? I wanted what they had—romance, commitment. Every guy I dated ended up screwing me over or not sticking around long enough to screw me over. After a while, it made me think maybe the problem was me.
“Any fun plans for New Year’s Eve?” Quinn asked me as he checked the noodles boiling in the pot.
“You know me.” I grabbed wineglasses from the cabinet and scrounged around in a drawer for the corkscrew. “I’ll find some party to go to, get plastered, and probably wake up in some random guy’s bed. Ring the new year in right.”
Monty snorted. “Damn, that brings back memories. You just summed up my early twenties.”
After we graduated high school, Monty had moved away to play college football and had been injured in his third year. That caused him to go down a spiral of depression, partying, and eventually hitting rock bottom before crawling his way back out.
“And now you’re an old man who stays in on the weekends and watches movies with me,” Quinn said in a teasing tone as he pulled Monty into his arms. Tenderness shone in my friend’s eyes when he laid his head on Monty’s shoulder.
“Yeah, what a horrible life.” Monty softly smiled and pressed his cheek to Quinn’s head.
I popped open the wine and filled a glass. I definitely needed it.
Brian arrived a few minutes later with his new girlfriend, Gwen. She was the high school principal, also known as Monty and Quinn’s boss. If Blue Harbor was a big city instead of a small seaside town, the relationship dynamic might’ve been a bigger cause for concern. But truth was, nobody gave a shit. It was a tight-knit community.
Who cared if the