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  “I didn’t think it was.” Jordan straightened. “We don’t have to say anything until you’re ready, but I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “Jordan,” Dylan sighed, turning toward him, “I overshared. I don’t have a filter. I upset you by being a shit person. I’m fine.”

  “That is your most consistent lie,” Jordan told him. “You’re not fine. Saying it doesn’t make it true.”

  “I don’t want you to get involved.”

  “Involved in what?”

  “You know what.”

  The platform began to bustle. The train they were waiting for arrived. Jordan took his arm so they wouldn’t be separated. They stepped into the nearest car. It was standing room only. Jordan pulled him close as he grabbed one of the overhead straps.

  “Hold on to me so you don’t get felt up.” Jordan’s breath was warm against his ear.

  “Dudes don’t get felt up on the train,” Dylan told him. “Unless they want to be.”

  “Do you want to?” Jordan raised an eyebrow.

  “Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

  Jordan snorted, a smile splitting his face. His free hand wrapped around Dylan’s waist and he pulled him closer. “What are you picking up?”

  Dylan looked down, not answering.

  “I can assume it’s a print,” Jordan continued. “What have you been working on?”

  “I’ll show you when we get back. It’s hard to explain.”

  Jordan hummed. “Is it really or do you not want to tell me about it?”

  “It’s probably easier to see it.”

  “Am I going to like it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not meant to be liked.”

  Jordan drew Dylan closer as the car coming to a stop made the occupants sway. He didn’t release him again, even as the car emptied over the last few stops.

  At the print shop, Dylan picked up a large brown bag at the counter. He tucked it under his arm as they walked the rest of the way to the apartment.

  “We didn’t get tacos,” Dylan noted, as they walked. “We could stop at the Chinese place across the street?”

  “I’m so sick of Chinese. We get it all the time.”

  “The bistro?”

  “The bistro would be great. What do you want? I can send in an order for pick-up.”

  Another fifteen minutes later, they settled on the floor at the coffee table in Dylan’s apartment. While he unpacked the bag of food and got them sodas from the fridge, Jordan carefully unwrapped the print.

  “This is...” Jordan was torn on a reaction. The page was broken into eight wordless squares. Together, they depicted the evening, and reaction to each of the songs during the encore. “Is this guy next to you Benjamin?”

  “Is that weird? He was there. It felt weird to just omit him from the experience.” Dylan said.

  “I like the style and the coloring technique.” He looked up at him as Dylan sat back down across from him. “I’m sorry listening was so hard. I did try to talk him out of it. I admit, I love the twist we put on it as a group, but it was meant to be private. Not played for an audience of people.”

  “I’m glad I finally heard it,” Dylan declared. “I downloaded the original album too.”

  “You’re sure this is what you want to give him?”

  “I was going to do a full comic, a complete rehash of all of it,” Dylan admitted. “I finished a few pages of it and outlined the whole thing.”

  “What happened?”

  “Brit called me today and suggested I might be depressed, or even bipolar.”

  “To prove you’re not, you scraped an entire project and did this instead?”

  “She was right in that I’ve been erratic. Maybe I am crazy.”

  “You’re not crazy. You are hungry though. Your stomach has been growling since Sakura, so you better eat something.” Jordan pushed the sandwich closer to him. He shoved a chip into his own mouth as he looked over the print again. “When you said you didn’t want me involved, were you referring to being between you and Tyler?”

  “I don’t know how to give this to him. He deserves an answer. He’s been waiting a long time for one.”

  “This is the answer you want to give him? Thank you, but no.”

  “I can’t hurt him again. If we got back together, that’s all I’d think about all the time.” Dylan picked up half the club sandwich he’d ordered and took a bite. In a flash, the half was gone and he was onto the rest as he kept talking. “I wanted to do the same thing he did to me. Making our business public. Own that the album was about me. Honestly, I don’t know how people can think it’s about anyone else. It’s painfully obvious. After drawing that today, I realized it’s not anyone else’s business. I don’t owe anyone closure, other than him, do I?”

  “No. Slow down. I’m not going to take it away from you. Jeez.” Jordan took another chip. “Why did you get it printed so big?”

  “Is it too big? I could have done an eleven by fourteen, but I thought that would be too small. The details leap out better at this size.”

  “What is going to happen to this afterwards?”

  “That’s up to Tyler. For all I know, it could end up in the dumpster.”

  “When are you going to give it to him?”

  “Tomorrow? Next week? Never? I just want to stare at it and make sure that’s what I want. We don’t have to talk about it.”

  “If you’d rather not, I understand.” Jordan turned to focus on his own sandwich. “Do you want to talk about Benjamin instead?”

  “I already told you what happened.”

  “You didn’t tell me why you slept with him.”

  “It was just a really tumultuous evening. I’d already ended things with you. I told Jack no. I’d already been to a meeting that day. He was there, and I trusted him.” Dylan shrugged. “Instead, he slipped me a sleeping pill and I woke up with a mountain lion between my legs.”

  “Is that a euphemism I’m not familiar with?” Jordan laughed.

  “No. He literally has the biggest damn cat I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “Did you take a pic?”

  Dylan smiled, shaking his head, “No, I was busy getting my bearings.”

  “How did you end up sleeping with him then?”

  “I bartered my new phone number for an orgasm.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” Jordan didn’t hide his exasperation.

  “Didn’t I?”

  “No,” Jordan answered, “you could have called me.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’re just friends. I needed more.”

  “You said earlier you wanted to spoon. Do you need more than that now?” Jordan asked.

  “Are you going to eat something besides the chips?” Dylan asked. His sandwich had disappeared, but Jordan hadn’t eaten any of his yet.

  “Answer me. Do you need more now.”

  “This very instant? No. In general? It would be nice.”

  Jordan stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. He groaned as he stretched, getting up from the floor. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

  “Bathroom. Be right back.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Hey, babe.” Kyle’s face came up on his screen. They were still at Sakura. “You made it back to the apartment?”

  “We did,” Jordan nodded. “I have a question. If you’ve okayed something in the recent past, it’s still okay, right?”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “Can I have sex with Dylan again?”

  “Holy fuck –what?” Jordan heard what he guessed was Kyle’s chopsticks clatter to the table.

  “I just want to be sure. You know I don’t usually do this.”

  “But you want to?” Kyle asked. “Like, you want to have sex with him? Not just in a you-want-to-make-him-feel-good way.”

  “Maybe? Yes.”

&nb
sp; “Hold on,” Kyle pressed the phone to his chest. Jordan heard him tell Jack and Markus he’d be back. A minute later, his face reappeared. He had moved outside the restaurant, standing outside the entrance. “Jordan, have you ever wanted to have sex with me?”

  “What? Of course. I love you.”

  “Loving me is not the same as wanting to have sex with me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The only times you have ever initiated sex with me have been when you’re upset about something. Most of the time, you don’t even finish. You use me to vent some frustrations and then blue ball yourself.”

  “Maybe that’s what I’m doing now.”

  “That’s what went wrong last time. He wants someone who finishes.”

  “Really? You went there?” Jordan’s eyes widened.

  “Do whatever you want.” Kyle’s expression was blank.

  “I want you to give me a clear yes or no.”

  “No.”

  Jordan sighed. “Is that a no you won’t answer or a no, don’t do it?”

  “Don’t do it.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear.”

  “I can’t stop you,” Kyle cut in before he could hang up. “I gave you permission before. After what happened, I didn’t think it would come up again. To be honest, I don’t like you with him. When you said he wanted to be friends, I was relieved. You don’t fuck your friends. Remember that.”

  Kyle’s face disappeared and the screen reverted to his home screen. Jordan sighed, closing his eyes. His chest hurt. His eyes stung. His stomach felt like there was a rock in it. Things were a hell of a lot easier before Dylan Montgomery came home.

  “Are you all right?” Dylan looked concerned as he sat back down at the coffee table.

  “Yes.” Jordan picked up his sandwich, taking a bite out of it. “I forgot to tell the guys that we were back at the apartment is all.”

  “You look upset.”

  “Emotions are high all around today, aren’t they?”

  “Is this about something I said earlier? You should be used to my bullshit.” Dylan forced a laugh. “I’m not normal by any means.”

  “Were you serious earlier, when you said you changed your mind about just being friends?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that displacement because of your feelings for Tyler? Or for feeling shitty after sleeping with Benjamin?”

  “Probably,” Dylan admitted.

  Jordan bit into his sandwich again. “You didn’t enjoy sex with me. Why would you want to do it again?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it,” Dylan admonished. “I wish you’d told me about your needs.”

  “That’s just it,” Jordan answered, “I don’t have them. I come because my partner likes it or wants it. I don’t care if I do or not. I like to make you feel good. Fucking is good stress relief. Focusing on my partner lets me get out of my own head.”

  “I get it,” Dylan admitted. “I’m a selfish asshole who has taken advantage of that rhetoric for eons. I’m trying to be better, which is why it’s important to me that you feel good too. So, when you weren’t going to finish...” he let himself trail off.

  “I can’t sleep with you again,” Jordan declared.

  “Your tone implies you’re breaking up with me. We weren’t even doing anything again.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jordan frowned. “I want to and that’s rare. If I do, though, it’s going to hurt my boyfriend. He’s one of the most important people in my life.”

  Dylan sat back on his heels. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”

  “You don’t need to say anything. My two cents are, you should sit on that longer.” Jordan motioned toward the comic. “Until you’re absolutely sure it’s the right answer. He’ll wait.”

  Dylan pondered the idea while he finished off his chips and Jordan ate his sandwich.

  “Is Kyle pissed,” he asked, breaking the silence, “that you came after me.”

  “That’s not it.” Jordan shook his head. “We’ll be fine. We always are.”

  “Are you?”

  Jordan nodded. He gave him a reassuring smile that didn’t fool Dylan. “So far.”

  “It’s good that you can talk to each other and work out the shit that bothers you.”

  “It is nice,” Jordan agreed. “I bet if you called a certain someone, you could give it a try. See what happens. You don’t need to make some grand romantic gesture.”

  “Every time I see him, I feel like I’m going to throw up my heart.”

  “I’m not an anatomist, but I’m one hundred percent sure that is not physically possible.”

  “I know,” Dylan acknowledged, “but it doesn’t change the feeling.”

  “He feels the same way. He doesn’t say it, but he does.”

  “Heath came over here, the night of his party,” Dylan started. “Did you know that?”

  “I did, but he didn’t say what happened. Something interesting?”

  “He was a little drunk. He told me he didn’t hate me, which was nice. He also unloaded some information about Tyler.”

  “Like?”

  “Like apparently he never wrote any songs about Greg. He’s written a bunch about me though. Is that a thing? Like when artists draw people they find inspiring?”

  “I can only speak for myself. I like writing out problems. My songs tend to be very angsty.”

  Dylan hummed. He started clearing their garbage into the take-out bag.

  “It’s true. Tyler never brought a song about Greg to the table. I can’t say he never wrote one, but not one that was good. He certainly never released a badly-kept secret album about the guy either.”

  “Was Greg better for him than I was?”

  “Dylan, I can’t answer that.”

  “Sure you can. Objectively. Was he better?”

  “You’re two very different people,” Jordan insisted. “You and Tyler just...complimented each other a certain way. Sometimes it was very annoying how much time you spent together. It could feel like Tyler wasn’t focusing on the band, which was hard on Heath and me. Greg is also into music. He worked with us. There wasn’t a separation there. We were all friendly and they fell into it. You appeared one day and we were supposed to be okay with it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Jordan pressed. “Tyler has a streak for picking up strays. How do you think their duo became a trio?”

  “Great. I was basically a rain-soaked kitten in a box.”

  Jordan laughed. “That is an adorable image. I almost wish I found you first.”

  “That would have been weird. What would you have even done with me?”

  “Nothing. You would have eaten me alive.”

  “Probably. That was a hard summer. I wanted to be literally anywhere than at my Aunt’s. Sarah and Pete were okay, but Zoe...god, I still fucking hate her.” Dylan stood up to carry their trash to the kitchen. When he came back, Jordan had risen and was waiting for him with his hands in his pockets.

  “You need to go,” Dylan guessed. “Apologize to Kyle for me for stealing you. I appreciated the one-on-one time. Even if it didn’t end in bed.”

  Jordan grinned. “Any time.” He took a step closer. “I probably can’t do this again after today. I’m not going to lie to Kyle, but if it could just stay between us, I’d appreciate it.” His palms pressed to Dylan’s cheeks as he pressed another kiss to his lips. He seemed to savor it for an extra second or two. He hummed as he stepped away again. “Call me if you want to talk. I can at least do that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I know it’s hard, but talk to Tyler. Okay?” He pressed another kiss to Dylan’s lips. “Fuck. I have to go. Sorry.” Another kiss. “You need to stop me.”

  Dylan laughed, pushing him away. “Go. You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I’ll see you later.” Jordan took a few steps backward. “Seriously, please? For me. Just talk to him.”

  Dylan nodd
ed. “I’ll think about it.”

  ***

  Jordan was sitting on the floor outside Kyle and Markus’s apartment a few minutes later. He had no idea when they would be back. His head was a swirl of confusion and frustration. Kyle wasn’t making sense. Their relationship had always been, not easy, but adaptable. Kyle had been on board, excited even, when he’d dated Dani shortly after their own relationship had started. Since then, Jordan had played second to Markus. When Jack and Heath joined the polycule, he’d felt like he’d been demoted to fourth. He’d had no say over Jack and Heath’s inclusion, not that he would have attempted to veto it.

  So, why now, after three years, was Kyle the one overcome with jealousy? He’d had zero competition from Jordan’s branch of the relationship since Dani had split. It was a double standard, and he didn’t like it. For the sake of the relationship, he was willing to set it aside. All they needed to do was talk it out. Right?

  “Aren’t you busy?” Kyle’s voice was flat as he stopped in front of him. Jordan looked up at the three of them as they stepped off the elevator.

  “We’ll leave you two.” Markus steered Jack back toward the elevator. “Don’t break anything.”

  Kyle waited until the hallway emptied again before he pulled out his keys to unlock the apartment. “Come in. Let’s not make a scene for the neighbors.”

  Jordan pulled himself to his feet. He followed Kyle into the apartment. The man was silent as he kicked off his shoes and hung up his zip-up in the entry. It wasn’t until they stood in the living room that Kyle exploded.

  “How could you ask me if you could sleep with Dylan again? That whole thing was over! Why did it have to be you to go after him? I don’t understand why you’re still talking to him. The sex was apparently terrible—”

  “Kyle, stop,” Jordan cut in. His hands squeezed the man’s upper arms. “I should never have called. It was a spur of the moment feeling and I didn’t want...” He stopped, not sure how to explain.

  “What? You didn’t want what?”

  “I didn’t want to do something that would hurt you and I hurt you anyway.”