A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,10

on Emerson’s lips, wet and shiny from his tongue, and he wondered not only how salty his mouth might taste, but how Emerson might respond if he spun him toward the wall and kissed the hell out of him.

A group of dancers bumped them from behind, breaking the spell between them. Which was a good thing. Wasn’t it?

Emerson was probably bewildered, if not a bit freaked out. He had ventured to a gay club, and it was Rhys’s duty as a friend to see that he was safe and had a good time.

He motioned for Emerson to follow him off the dance floor to the bar, where he ordered two ice waters. After gulping down the cool liquid, he met Emerson’s gaze, and they smiled at each other. Despite the initial awkwardness, they’d had a good time together.

And right on cue, as if Emerson was about to turn into a pumpkin past midnight, he looked at the time on his phone and motioned for the exit. “Thanks for the fun time. Gotta head home.”

They fist-bumped, and Rhys watched him go. He had a feeling things were about to get a lot more interesting.

Two months later

Emerson

“Sam, use your fork,” Emerson warned as his brother rolled his eyes and set his piece of chicken down, wiping the grease across his shirt, which set Emerson’s teeth on edge. Now he’d have to spray it before throwing it in the wash. Sam was smart as a whip but sometimes lacking in manners. Emerson was afraid it was because Sam didn’t have Mom around to teach him self-care skills or any other number of things, and Emerson was failing big-time in that department.

Meals were a whole other matter. It was enough that he was a dismal cook, but he’d been forced to learn a handful of recipes because eating out would’ve cost them a fortune.

When he noticed Rhys smirking across the table from him, he scoffed. “What?”

“Spoken like a true parent,” he replied as he took his last bite.

Rhys was a way better cook than him, and he’d given Emerson some tips, but since Rhys couldn’t come over to feed them nightly, they had to make do with Emerson’s dishes, which…tended to fall flat. He prepared whatever would fill their bellies and tried to stay on the healthier side but usually failed miserably.

At least the kids didn’t complain. Too much.

“He sure has the word no down,” Audrey grumbled. “Wouldn’t even let me stay at Maddy’s house last night.”

She was still ticked at Emerson for being overprotective. Ah, parenting. If anyone would’ve told him how hard middle school would be for his sister, or that he’d have to deal with hormones or the mood swings of his siblings all on his own, he wouldn’t have believed them. In fact, he’d dreamed of being away from home and well into his own career by then. Who knew life could throw you so many damned curveballs?

“He is pretty strict. And neurotic,” Rhys replied with a wink.

Emerson had to look away to disguise how any seemingly flirtatious gesture from Rhys made him feel like his stomach was on spin cycle.

Since that night at the bar, things between him and Rhys had felt different, to say the least. A thick tension seemed to swirl around them whenever they were in each other’s company, and Emerson didn’t think it was one-sided but couldn’t be sure. It was dangerous territory either way to cross the line on a friendship forged so long ago. Losing Rhys would gut him as much as losing his parents. So he’d tread lightly and keep his thoughts and feelings to himself until he could get a better handle on just what the hell was happening between them.

Emerson had gone to the bar that night to try and make sense of his confusing thoughts about his sexuality—outside of being attracted to his best friend. It was a huge step for him, and he’d been terrified. As it turned out, nobody stood out to him or made him feel much of anything until he laid eyes on Rhys across the room. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

And dancing with him was…surreal. It wasn’t like they’d never goofed off in their rooms as kids to popular music. But this was in the middle of the dance floor at a gay club with their hands on each other.

If he’d confessed any of it to Rhys—as far as his sexuality was concerned—Rhys no doubt would’ve encouraged him to explore his