Page 12 of Five Days

A strange ache lanced through my chest at their comfortable affection. Perhaps it was nothing more than a bit of jealousy over Callum—definitely not Landon. That kid could go fuck himself with a twelve-inch dildo.

Actually, knowing him, he was probably a size queen.

A fist or baseball bat would be better.

Something big enough to make him cry at the very least and not because it felt good.

Callum pulled out the extra chair, and Landon didn’t reply to his quiet words or take his hungry eyes off me as he sat.

My abs tightened as blood once more seeped back into my groin after having fled at the first sight of Landon. I couldn’t deny the kid was hot as fuck and still roused my body to life after all these years, but I did not want him.

Hard. Fucking. Stop.

Continuing to lie to myself, I pushed against memories of Landon’s smile that used to light up my insides. Make me feel wanted. Appreciated. How he’d laughed at every stupid joke I told in the hopes he would forget for a few brief moments how his busy parents ignored him.

How he’d curl up beside me on the couch while we played X-box. The way he’d let me win but claimed he didn’t. Landon had always put me first.

Until that fateful night he didn’t.

Jaw clenched, I glanced between the two of them, trying to figure shit out. Until Callum started talking, I was in the dark.

He settled uneasily across the table from me.

“Gentlemen?” Our waiter appeared like a wraith, his voice shaky as though he approached shark-infested waters. Guess he’d been privy to our little confrontation on the dance floor.

“Three shots of the strongest alcohol you’ve got,” I muttered without looking at him, my stare solely on the man who’d hired me—and wouldn’t meet my gaze. Shady, hot-as-hell fucker.

“Right away, sir.” The waiter scurried off, leaving the three of us in silence.

Callum and Landon shared a long moment of eye contact as though having an entire conversation between them without voicing a word. Same as Landon and I had done once upon a time.

I hated surprises, and these two were more than friends, that was for damned sure. Toss in the suspicion I was being used again, and my defenses rose to towering heights, self-preservation ready to boot a body off the ledge. Landon’s. Callum’s. I didn’t care. I just wanted answers about what the fuck was going on.

“Start talking,” I demanded, my tone hard.

“It’s a long story,” Callum finally said, the words hesitant as though he searched for them.

“Callum is the most unselfish man I know,” Landon cut in, laying his hand on his friend’s or perhaps lover’s forearm as though offering comfort, “so I’m assuming his bringing you here was for my benefit.”

The teenager turned gorgeous man shifted his amber eyes back on me at Callum’s nod, and fuck my dick for liking his attention with no less potency than when we’d been kids.

I ground my teeth over the unwanted lust, my ears expecting what had been texted dozens of times.

“I’ve been wanting this chance to talk to you. To apologize,” Landon murmured.

And there it was.

Luckily for Landon, the waiter reappeared with my drinks. He sat one in front of Callum first, and I shook my head.

“Nope. They’re all mine.” I tapped the table top with a firm fingertip where the glasses rightfully belonged.

The waiter’s hands shook as he placed the first shot in front of me before adding the others alongside.

“Leave,” I ordered the second he straightened.

Once more, he scurried off, and I tipped all three drinks back one after the other, losing myself in the burn for a few seconds of relief from my surroundings.

Since there was no blocking Landon with a swipe of my fingertip over my cell phone this time around, I settled in my chair in the same bring it pose, arms once more crossed as though confident I could take on the world when I knew damned well a lot of good and bad memories I’d tried to erase from my brain were about to be stirred up.

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