Page 59 of Filthy Twisted Devil

“Her name is Hazel Olivia,” James says proudly. “After our mothers.”

“She looks like a Hazel,” Eden says. “She’s lucky to have you two as parents.”

Then Nate, of all people, wipes a tear away from his eye. “I'm so happy for you,” he says roughly.

James pulls him into a tight hug. Ryan leaps to his feet and wraps his arms around them both. Then, we're all hugging, moving around the room to exchange tearful embraces. The bone-deep happiness we all feel radiates through the room.

Hazel’s arrival is only responsible for half of our joy. Now that Maura’s given birth, she’s finally eligible for a trial treatment recommended by her new cardiologist. It’s new, but promising, and it might give Maura more time. Maybe just a few more years, which would be everything for James, but I know he hopes for more. Maura could live long enough to watch her daughter grow up or even get old with James.

“I have a big favor to ask you all,” James says when we’re finished. “Maura and I are both so grateful that you were all here, but they're limiting her visitors and we want to spend a little time as just our family of three. Could you come back tomorrow?”

“Of course, man,” Beau says.

“We should stagger our arrivals so Maura and the baby don’t get too overwhelmed,” Eden suggests, her event planning mind already in gear. “I could text a proposed schedule, if everyone wants.”

“Thank you, Eden,” James says. “That would be perfect.”

Everyone starts gathering their things to leave, naturally falling into their couples, and it lands on me that my oldest friends are becoming parents, building families, moving into the next part of their lives.

As I glance over at Eden shrugging on her coat, I imagine how it might feel if she were really mine, if this thing we’re pretending to have were real.

She glances up and catches me staring. “What?” she asks.

“Nothing. I was just going to offer to drive you home.”

She smiles. “Thanks. I’d like that.”

My chest swells. If she were really mine, it would feel really fucking good.

24

EDEN

The pale morning light makes frost glisten on the trees as we drive past. I glance over at Luke in the driver’s seat, his hands tight on the steering wheel. He clenches it until his knuckles are white, like he’s afraid what he’ll do with his hands if he lets go.

I wish he would. It’s all too easy to imagine him reaching over to rest his hand on my thigh. But that’s something a real boyfriend would do, and Luke and I are⁠—

I don’t know what we are, honestly. Friends with benefits? Lovers? Morons, pretending that walking down this path won’t fuck up our lives? Brinley hasn’t changed her mind about us. I can’t have any kind of relationship with Luke that doesn’t destroy my friendship with her. I’m walking a dangerous path with him.

All I know is that I don’t want to stop. I liked leaning against him to sleep, liked texting with him at Christmas, liked having his face buried between my thighs. Everything we do together feels so good, I can almost forget how much it’ll hurt when it ends.

Right now, though, that’s just some distant, unknown future. Luke is here, and he’s real. Maybe it’s lack of sleep, and maybe it’s plain recklessness. I just know that I want him.

All too soon, he pulls up in front of my apartment. As luck would have it, there’s an open parking spot for him to pull into. He puts the car in park, and the sight of his hand flexing on the stick shift is enough to make me ask, “Would you like to come up?”

He presses his lips into a firm line. We both know what I’m inviting him up for. We’ll have time and privacy to go further than we did at the Christmas party. The line that separates real from pretend will snap if he agrees.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Let’s go.”

We don’t touch when we get out of the car and walk to my apartment. Our hands don’t brush when he holds the front door open for me or when I lead him up the stairs. It’s like he’s waiting, carefully biding his time until he makes his move.

I unlock the front door and he follows me inside. He’s been in the apartment before, obviously. Brinley lived here for years. Still, once I open the door, he looks around like he’s seeing it with new eyes. The apartment still feels a little sparse, if I’m honest. Brinley took most of her things with her when she moved, and I’m still finding pieces to replace them. There are only a few posters on the walls, and several of the bookshelves are only half full. Too many of my things are still in storage back in Sundre.

Luke takes it all in. “It looks nice,” he says.

“Thanks.” Except right now I don’t care about his decor opinions. My skin prickles with awareness, aching for him to touch me. I walk backward down the hallway toward my bedroom, beckoning him back with me. He follows, leaving a few respectful feet of space.

Too much space.