“Brad was my first and only real boyfriend.”
“Why’d you break up?”
He dipped his brush and a glop of paint dropped onto his jeans. He scowled. Oh well, he had worn his oldest pair.
“Brad cheated on me.” He stopped, his heart skipping a beat that those words could come out so easily. He’d never admitted that out loud to anyone. “I didn’t handle it well. Couldn’t trust him after that, and everything crashed. He was sorry, blamed it on getting drunk, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t the only time he’d strayed. Brad was incredibly good-looking, and he knew it.”
“You must have made quite the couple,” Calder said casually, then froze, his eyes going impossibly wide as if he’d realized what he’d said.
Lucien had to bite his bottom lip to keep from grinning like a fool. Calder found him attractive. That was a nice bit of interesting information. Not that he was going to do anything with it. Nope. They were friends. Comrades in arms. That was it.
Instead, he forced his mind to his cheating ex. “Maybe. When he wasn’t flirting with anything with a pulse. At first, I thought that was his personality, but I later realized it wasn’t all harmless, that he was really trolling for his next lay.”
Calder grunted as he rolled more paint on the wall. “So he’s the reason you play the field so heavily. One and done, right?” Calder repeated words that he’d tossed out not long ago that had him wincing now. Didn’t matter.
“That and nobody has made me want to try for more.” He kneeled to go around the baseboards. “I should have had you doing this part; then we could’ve both gone behind with the rollers.”
“Neither of us is a painter; we’re bound to get something wrong.” Calder picked up the can, pried off the lid, and poured more paint into the rolling pan. It put him close enough that Lucien could hear his breathing. Awareness pricked at his skin.
What was it about Calder that made his skin tingle? Made the hair on his arms stand at attention? He glanced up and found those bright-blue eyes on him, and there was something in his expression—something Lucien had seen the night before at dinner. Interest and yeah, it wasn’t his imagination…lust.
Calder wanted him, too.
The air crackled between them, stopping Lucien’s breath in his lungs. He stared into those eyes and licked his lips. Calder’s gaze shot to his mouth and locked there, then slowly rose to Lucien’s eyes. He cleared his throat and straightened up fast, his gaze breaking away from Lucien.
Lucien stood, looking down at Calder. There was nothing he could do to hide the desire in his eyes or the hard-on now creating a ridge in his jeans. His old T-shirt wasn’t long enough to cover it and sure enough, Calder’s gaze flicked there and he took a deep, shuddering breath.
Everything in Lucien went taut, and his dick started to throb. He took a step closer to Calder, who stood rock still, his eyes going wide. Before he could figure out what he planned to do, Calder suddenly frowned and shook his head.
“No, this is not going to happen. I’m not attracted to you.” He said the words without looking at Lucien. Who was he trying to convince?
“It’s mutual, Calder.”
“Well, I’m not a one-and-done sort of man. Besides, we’re supposed to see each other as brothers.”
Lucien laughed. “That’s the last thing I see when I look at you. And we are definitely not related in any way.”
“Shit.” Calder paced away, shoving both hands into his hair. “Is this really why we can’t get along? We want to fuck?”
“Don’t you?” Lucien took another step toward him.
Calder swiped a hand over his face, leaving a streak of taupe paint on his cheek and nose. He fiercely shook his head. “Stop coming closer. Shit. This is not happening. We’re not doing this.”
Lucien came to his senses and retreated a step. His heart was beating a mile a minute, and his dick was harder than stone at just the thought of taking Calder to bed. But he could respect Calder’s need to nip their desire in the bud—though he was dying to know how the man felt, what he liked in bed, wanted to hear the noises he made.
This was their problem in a nutshell. Clay had been right. Pent-up desire.
But he didn’t go where he wasn’t wanted, and Calder had put up a big, bold No Trespassing sign. His usual annoyance swooped in, and he had to swallow a smartass remark. He didn’t want to ruin the peace they’d achieved today, fully aware it was only a little. Before he could say something he’d regret, he dipped his brush and went back to work. Calder did the same.
They finished the room in silence.
Chapter Four
Calder wanted to die.
Or maybe just get blind, stinking drunk.
Baer and Wiley had come up with this “brilliant” idea that he and Lucien would get along better if they went out for a night of drinking and laughs. As if loosening their tongues with alcohol would make things better. They weren’t exactly holding back their barbs right now. Calder couldn’t imagine how bad things were going to get if they lost the last of their inhibitions.
Naturally, Lucien proclaimed this to be a great idea, and Calder had no choice but to agree. He couldn’t appear to be the one who wasn’t trying to smooth things out.
So now here he sat on a high stool at a pub table with Lucien, Baer, and Wiley. Dane and Clay had passed, preferring to spend a quiet evening in. Grey had passed as well, not surprising considering he was still recovering from the book festival fiasco. Cort had opted to remain behind to baby his mate. In short, the two couples were going to enjoy an evening of loud sex since the house was empty.
The night had started off well enough. Wiley had selected a nice restaurant where they’d enjoyed some good food and a few warm-up drinks. The poor artist was the designated driver, but he was still having fun. And it didn’t hurt that Baer was an easygoing guy with lots of amusing stories. Between the two of them, they deftly navigated the strained, awkward silences.
In the meantime, Calder had come up with his own plan. Every time he felt the need to say something snappish or snarky to Lucien, he took a drink.
But then he started taking a drink every time he noticed how Lucien looked tonight. The red button-down shirt revealed a strong neck and hints of a muscular chest all while stretching across these powerful shoulders. Then there were his black slacks that perfectly caressed the curve of his ass and clung to beautifully tapered legs. The man was a sex god. And judging by the smile on his lips as they stepped into the bar, he knew it.
Calder frowned at his dark-blue jeans and T-shirt. He looked like someone’s kid brother. He couldn’t do the hot sexpot thing. There wasn’t anything hot or sexy about him. Men tended to see him and say they had a fetish for Asian twinks or the nerdy look, neither of which he found complimentary.
Most of the time, he wasn’t swamped with feelings of insecurity and inferiority, but it all came out whenever he was with Lucien. The guy was a better Weaver, a better fighter, and all-around more interesting. Lucien could walk into any place and just shine as the fun, outgoing person.
Calder was little more than a quiet shadow gliding through the room, praying someone—anyone—noticed him.