options, but all Emerson had done since then was jerk off to thoughts of Rhys. And that just made things more awkward for him, especially when he’d pop a boner from an innocent touch. Never in a million years had he thought he’d feel such things for his best friend. It was like seeing him in a brand-new light.
After dinner, Rhys and the kids moved to the family room to play video games while Emerson loaded the dishwasher. He loved hearing their laughter, and he’d confess that the evenings Rhys had meals with them were some of his favorites. He’d go as far as admitting the house felt quieter on nights he wasn’t in attendance. But he couldn’t pretend Rhys would be in their lives forever. At least not like this. And as his twenty-second birthday loomed, as well as the beginning of another school year for the kids, it was time he finally got his shit together.
He wiped his hands and padded to the edge of the room, from where he watched Sam kick both their butts in the Mortal Kombat game, but he had a feeling Rhys had let him win a couple of times. Softy. Sometimes he’d argue with Rhys that the kids needed to learn the agony of defeat, but then he’d be accused of being a disciplinarian by either Audrey or Rhys. And when they put their heads together? He was woefully outnumbered.
As if Rhys felt his presence, he angled his head over his shoulder, and when their eyes met, Emerson felt an electric current move through him. Okay, now he was just losing it. They were friends, always had been, and hopefully always would be. Amen.
After Emerson put the kids to bed, he came downstairs to find Rhys still standing at the kitchen sink with a glass of water, long after he’d said good night.
“Rhys, what are you…” His voice trailed off as Rhys pushed away from the counter.
“I can’t do this anymore.” His fingers forked through his hair as he stalked closer. “There’s something going on here, and I need us to talk about it.”
Shit. He swallowed roughly, trying to find his courage. “Okay, you’re right.”
Rhys stood before him and nodded solemnly. “That night you came to the club and we saw each other and danced…” He shook his head. “What the hell was that about?”
They had essentially avoided the topic, neither brave enough to bring it up. But they were good friends, so they should’ve been able to discuss this like adults.
“Remember that time I saw you with—” Emerson waved his hand. “With that guy in your driveway?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Emerson started pacing the length of the kitchen. “After that night, I…started feeling something.”
There. He’d said it. Not everything, but it was a start.
It wasn’t the absolute truth, though, because he thought he’d probably started feeling something when they were teens, but he couldn’t make sense of it then—or barely even now.
Rhys’s forehead creased. “What are you saying?”
“I was like…” Emerson gripped the counter, his cheeks heating. “Turned on. I was turned on, okay?”
“Holy fuck,” Rhys swore under his breath as his cheeks turned a ruddy pink.
“And ever since then…”
“You’ve wondered if you like guys too?” Rhys asked, no doubt filling in the blanks for himself as well.
“Yeah,” Emerson admitted, the tension draining from his limbs. Fuck, it felt good to finally get it out. Except there were still large pieces missing. He was only getting started on understanding himself, so how could he expect Rhys to?
Rhys’s stance seemed to relax as he leaned his hip against the edge of the refrigerator. “And?”
His pulse beat erratically, his thoughts overwhelming him. He couldn’t believe it was real, much less that he was actually about to tell Rhys this shit.
But then he just let it out. “And so far, I really only feel this way around you.”
Rhys inhaled sharply. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean.” He pushed out a breath. “Do I really need to spell it out?”
“Yes…no… I don’t know.” Rhys’s voice sounded rough and a bit tortured, which made Emerson tremble. “Fucking hell, Em.”
When their eyes met, it was as if all the molecules in the room began recalibrating around them, crackling with an intensity he’d never felt before. His nails bit into his palms as he restrained himself. He wanted to reach out and touch Rhys, but he was terrified and still didn’t know how his friend might respond.
So when Rhys strode toward him, hemming him against the