Page 50 of More than Need

“Can I have some more soup?”

Gideon beamed and jumped up. He kissed her on the forehead and murmured, “I love you,” before shuffling off to the kitchen, remembering at the last second to grab her mug.

“If you loved me, you’d also get me some ice cream,” she called out to his retreating back.

Good thing he’d come prepared.

Chapter 9

Dawson couldn’t avoid havingdinner with his two best friends, not after cancelling the week before. He’d look suss as fuck. He’d acted suspicious enough by spending the last four out of five nights not at home. It’s not like he hadn’t before, when he’d been dating someone, but he generally gave Sadie a heads-up that she had the house to herself. This time he’d behaved more like a child sneaking out than an adult doing what he wanted without having to tag his whereabouts every second of the day.

Mostly his own feelings twisted it into something else. Or it could be the fact that he was fucking Sadie’s brother behind her back, with no desire to stop. Which simultaneously made him feel like a piece-of-shit friend and had him craving more. Riley and Gideon were fucking catnip, and every time he told himself to stop, he found himself right back in their arms.

Sadie beamed from her place on a stool at the kitchen bench. “Well, look who it is. I’d almost forgotten what your face looked like. Forget where home is?”

“Google Maps just isn’t what it used to be,” Dawson retorted. “Hey, Darce,” he said, greeting the third friend that rounded out their trio.

At six-foot-ten and built solid, Darcy Timms was the biggest thing in the room and pretty handy at getting things off the top shelf. As a professional footballer in the AFL—a ruckman, no less—his height had more than a few advantages. And some hazards, including tripping over everything and smacking his head on the top of doorframes.

Darcy didn’t answer, all his focus on carefully pouring batter into a muffin tin.

“Guess he forgot who you are too. Bad luck, buddy.”

“He’s not even listening,” Dawson said. He tried to get Darcy’s attention again. “What are you making?”

“Yorkshire puddings,” Darcy said absently, concentrating hard, with a hint of his tongue peeking out between his lips.

“Where have you been, though?” Sadie asked curiously. “It feels like you’ve been sneaking away in the middle of the night like a thief. Something you need to tell me?”

Dawson slid the cooler bag filled with food he’d bought at the supermarket onto the counter. “I’ve been out,” he said defensively. He worked weird hours since a lot of the events that he worked on with his bosses could be any time of the day. And he could have a love life that didn’t need to be spread around like a Sunday newspaper.

“You’re being deliberately vague.”

“I’m being deliberatelyprivate,” Dawson corrected. “And I’d like to keep it that way.” Not like he could tell her. Not until he’d worked out how to without losing her forever.

“Are you seeing someone new?” Sadie gasped with exaggeration, placing a hand on her chest. “Someone special enough that you’re keeping him all to yourself? That’s really selfish, Daws.”

“I hate being friends with you.”

“Don’t lie, you love it. Alright, keep your secrets. I hope we get to meet this paragon of perfection at some point?”

Not fucking likely. It wasn’t—he couldn’t—this thing with Riley and Gideon had to be temporary. He couldn’t hide a relationship from Sadie forever, that would be ridiculous. At some point, he would have to make a choice. Future Dawson’s problem. He wanted to enjoy the way that the two men made him feel, just for a little longer. He’d never meant it to go in that direction when he’d confronted Riley about his behaviour. Marshall had said his impulsiveness would get him into trouble one day. That day had come and gone even if he doubted Marshall had meant it this way.

“Come sit down, show me what food you brought. I”—she dragged the plastic bag already on the counter over to herself—“brought yo-yos for dessert.” She pulled a package of them from the bag and presented it with a flourish. “Ta-da. I stood in line for like half an hour at this place to get these; you’re welcome.”

The bakery sticker on top had a familiar logo. A popular place, all the way on the other side of town. Damn. It had been ages since he’d had anything from there—too much hassle to go all that way if he didn’t have another reason to be in that area.

“Can we have dessert now?” he asked. “I vote yes.” Sadie moved the container out of his reach right when he lunged for it. Rude.

“What didyoubring?” she asked loftily.

“Y is a stupid letter. Why’d you pick it for today, Darcy?”

Darcy glanced up from stirring something in a bowl. “I didn’t.”

“The letter didn’t just fall out of the sky. You’re the one that texted it to us,” Dawson pointed out. That had literally been the whole text. Just “Y.” If it had been anyone else, Dawson would have been confused as fuck.

“I can’t believe that you still haven’t told us how you pick it, even after all these years,” Sadie said. “My bet is still on that you have a hat of them, and you just pluck one out every Sunday morning on your way to the shower.”

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