A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,59

so close to the surface—and he could barely concentrate while Lance caught him up on the last year of his life. He was just grateful to not be doing all the talking as he sipped and listened, his thoughts veering off, then gravitating back again. When Lance mentioned Sneaky Pete’s, Rhys’s ears perked up.

“Still working there?”

Lance nodded. He’d always loved music, and outside of playing a couple of different instruments, he’d also deejay small gatherings and weddings. “Cool. For how long?”

“Just a few months.”

Suddenly he remembered his conversation with Emerson from the other night. About him identifying as demisexual. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” Lance replied, signaling the bartender for another drink.

“There was one night you were deejaying at Sneaky Pete’s…not that you’d even remember, but I can’t, so I’ll take my chances asking you.”

Lance took a sip of the fresh glass the bartender had placed in front of him. “Go ahead.”

“My best friend, Emerson, had come up to the club one night I was here.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Tall, ginger, gorgeous?”

“One and the same.” Rhys smiled at the accurate description. “So you remember?”

“I do. It was my first night, so I was nervous and watching the dance floor a lot.”

His pulse kicked up. “We were on the dance floor?”

“Yeah, together. Having a good time from the looks of it. Plus, the music was kickass.”

Rhys cracked a smile. “Of course.”

Holy shit. He and Em dancing together in a gay club?

Lance leaned forward. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just…” He shook his head. “Still trying to piece some things together.”

“I feel for you. It’s gotta be strange.” The pity in his eyes made Rhys’s stomach pitch.

“It is. But hey, could be worse.” He pasted on a smile, and as they clinked glasses, he suddenly wanted to get the hell out of there. To go home to Emerson.

Did he have feelings for Emerson?

Would the kiss have evolved into something deeper?

Rhys didn’t know anything except he wanted to be close to him right the fuck now. Emerson always made him feel more like himself. Like everything would be okay and would eventually make sense.

Audrey’s confession definitely helped explain why Emerson always seemed to be holding himself back, like he was on the verge of…what? Giving in to his emotions? Fuck. And he’d been leaving it up to Rhys—and chance—that his memory would return. And now the disappointment in his eyes after their visit to Hawkeye Hill made a ton of sense. Maybe he was hoping Rhys would remember, even if the outcome wasn’t pleasant for either of them. Just to finally have it out there in the open. Along with some closure.

These past few weeks must’ve been torture for him too.

20

Emerson

Emerson readjusted his pillow for the hundredth time and shut his eyes. Settling in, he listened to the silence in the house. He didn’t think he liked it. It seemed stark, absolute, final, and he felt lonely in a way he hadn’t in a long while.

Which was absurd because he’d gone to the game with Neil and had a fun time despite the Rockets’ loss. But Neil could tell he was preoccupied, and when he’d asked if it was because of Rhys, Emerson didn’t deny it, making the excuse that his life was a bit turned sideways as of late. And then made sure to let Neil know that he enjoyed hanging out with him as just friends.

Fortunately, Neil said he understood—because fuck, Emerson didn’t want to hurt his feelings, especially when he wanted to go straight home instead of stopping for a beer—but he could feel Neil studying his profile one too many times. He thought Neil might’ve been on the cusp of asking him a more personal question, but thankfully he’d held back. Emerson was feeling so raw, he might’ve simply confessed everything.

The sound of the front door opening and closing made his heart vault to his throat. Rhys’s night had ended earlier than he’d thought it might, and Emerson almost got up to greet him. But just having him home—home—felt good. He was safe and close by, and that should’ve been enough. So why was he nearly crawling out of his skin? Fuck, he needed to be careful with these overwhelming feelings, or he’d be even more devastated when Rhys finally moved on.

After another few minutes, he heard footsteps on the stairs, and his pulse became erratic when he felt Rhys’s presence in the room.

“Em?” he whispered, approaching the bed.

“Is everything all right?” Emerson asked as his eyes