A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,5

the table. When his eyes met Rhys’s, the melancholy in his smile cut way too deep.

Another Three Years Has Passed

Emerson

The kids had gone to bed, so Emerson headed out to the porch to take a couple of hits of a joint because it sometimes helped him sleep. He stared at the quiet neighborhood from his obscured corner, his gaze continually returning to the darkened windows of the modest Cape Cod dwelling across the street.

Rhys had stayed put in his childhood home after his mother got engaged and ran off to Florida with her boyfriend last fall. Mrs. Lancaster easily found another office-manager job, while her fiancé, Carl, started a new sales position in his company’s Florida office. Rhys hadn’t exactly warmed to the man his mother had chosen to move out of state for—he’d heard Carl belittle her once—but she looked happy enough, and Emerson wished her the best.

Rhys didn’t have any better luck with relationships, but he also didn’t seem to mind staying single. He still worked at the adventure shop, and his newest passion was rock climbing at some of Maine’s national parks. In fact, Emerson found himself admiring the man he had become and wished he could be as charismatic and carefree. Rhys was tall and lean, with muscles in places only scaling tall structures could create, and cognac-colored irises. His dark bangs continually flopped over his eyebrow, and his crooked smile still made Emerson feel instantly better.

He noticed headlights illuminating the driveway across the street, and he watched curiously. Rhys climbed out of the passenger side of the car and waved goodbye to his friend. But the guy stepped out too, then obviously said something funny because Rhys laughed. Emerson nearly rolled his eyes. He knew that flirtatious sound by now, but he’d never been witness to what happened next.

The guy gripped Rhys’s hand and pinned him to the driver’s-side door. His lips devoured Rhys’s neck, and damn, the way Rhys’s fingers clutched the meaty part of the guy’s ass made Emerson’s cock spring to life.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t gotten laid in forever, but something about the scene playing out in front of him was pretty freaking hot.

He zeroed in on the corded muscles in Rhys’s forearms, making his sleeve of tattoos dance, and then his gaze drifted upward to how the guy was attacking his mouth. Fuck. It wasn’t like he hadn’t witnessed Rhys kiss another man over the years, but not quite like this. Rhys’s first crush from the carnival sprang to mind again. How Rhys had blushed, and how upset and confused Emerson had felt. He’d already determined he’d been jealous back then, but this…this was wholly different. This was him getting hard watching his best friend rub up against some guy. His reaction was fucking concerning as hell.

And now he was just being a creeper.

Emerson turned away and stabbed out his roach in the tin can filled with sand he kept in the corner. His whole body flushed. He was so overwhelmed with sensation that he tripped and made a bunch of noise when his foot hit the can and it nearly tipped over.

What in the hell was wrong with him?

“Everything okay?” Rhys’s voice rang out from the bottom of the steps leading to his porch. Emerson had been so lost in his own head, he hadn’t noticed that the guy who’d dropped his friend off had already driven away. Damn it. So much for being stealthy.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied in a hoarse tone, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just…” Rhys inspected him further as he walked up the steps. “Well, for one, you’re all flushed and sweaty.”

“Jesus.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I, uh, must be coming down with something. I better go inside before I get you sick.”

Rhys’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, no doubt because Emerson was acting strange. “Yeah, okay. I could take your temperature—” His hand reached out to swipe against his forehead, and Emerson trembled. Actually fucking trembled.

“No, it’s okay.” He took a step back and balled his fists, trying to get ahold of himself. “Did you, uh, have a good time?”

Rhys shrugged. “Mostly, yeah.”

Emerson nodded toward the street. “Is that guy someone you…”

“It was only a date that didn’t lead to a hookup. He was cute, but I dunno. Didn’t want to—”

“Could’ve fooled me.” The words sprang from his lips before he could stop them. They sounded accusing and…and hell, he didn’t even