Page 42 of Merrick

“That’s fine,” he interrupted.

This was the worst conversation they’d ever had. A dozen things that needed to be said, but neither of them able to get a complete sentence out without interruption.

“That’s deliberate,” Merrick said to clarify.

“How do you?—”

“Rafe is a friend,” he said.

“He knows we’re?—”

“Yes.”

Bryce grimaced, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“It’s fine,” they both said at the same time.

Was there anything worse than finding out your brother had a membership at the sex club you bartended at? Probably not, but Merrick wasn’t sure.

“Holden, too,” Bryce blurted, tilting his head back and glaring up at the ceiling.

“Are you?—”

“Please don’t.”

“Okay.”

That was one more person to avoid, one more piece of information about his brother he didn’t really want to know. But the two of them were trying to have a relationship as adults and these were conversations adults had. It wasn’t like they were going into detail or anything like that and, honestly, it was good to know his brother was safe and cared for.

Merrick didn’t know a lot about kink and he didn’t know how much his brother knew about it either, but he understood the ground rules and he knew with Wilder he was safe. He found it hard to believe that whatever roles his brother and Holden played to each other were any different.

“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “I like him. He’s…he’s a good man.”

“So are you.”

There was something about the straightforward sincerity in Bryce’s voice that had tears prickling the backs of his eyelids. Merrick blinked past them and clinked his half-drunk beer can against his brother’s.

“So are you,” he told him.

“So.” Bryce grinned at him after they drank. “When do I get to meet him?”

CHAPTER 16

Wilder

One week later,Wilder’s phone pinged with an incoming text message. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and he swiped the screen to find a message from Merrick, a screen shot of his most recent health panel confirming everything had come back negative. Heat churned in Wilder’s stomach at the thought of what that meant for them, and he swiped into the app from his doctor’s office and made a copy of his results and fired them off to Merrick in reply. Merrick answered him with a phone call, which Wilder picked up on the second ring.

“Happy Tuesday to you,” he said.

“Isn’t it? I don’t even have to work today.”

“Lucky boy. What are you doing instead?”

“Drawing,” Merrick answered.

“Not painting?”

“No.”