Page 109 of Not That Complicated

“Let me in and we can discuss it like adults,” Fraser said through gritted teeth.

“You’ve already proven you’re not capable of that. Goodbye, Fraser.” I stepped back and went to close the door.

“Wait.”

Adam groaned in my ear—not the sexy kind of groan—when I paused and arched a brow.

“All I want is to get a few pictures of the house,” Fraser said. “Let me do a walkthrough.”

“Why?”

“These guys are doing a piece.”

“A piece?”

“Ray, he wants to cash in on the bodies,” Adam sighed. “Try to keep up.”

“It’s rather hard, actually, when I’m sandwiched between the two of you like this.”

“No,” Adam snapped.

“Huh?”

“I was talking to him.”

I glanced at Fraser, who was eyeing us. “Ew, no,” I said. “If I was going to have a threesome, it’d be with him and Liam.”

“Liam is still my cousin, babe,” Adam said.

“With him and Jasper,” I corrected. “I meant to say Jasper. Who is also...right, yes. Jasper is a journalist. The only journalist I’d be interested in talking to if there was even any kind of story here, which there isn’t.”

Fraser looked surprised, then sneered. “His fuckbuddy, Jasper?”

“Have you seen him?” I said. To be clear, I absolutely did not want a threesome with anyone, I was confident Adam knew that, but it was worth it to watch as Fraser’s sneer was wiped away by a flash of pure jealousy. “And how did you even hear about the whole dead body situation, anyway?” I said.

“I read the local news. I’m still local.”

“Regardless, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time coming here. I have zero interest in being in the paper again, what with not being an attention ho.”

Fraser had the audacity to press a hand to his own chest and act all wounded. “I’m not an attention ho!”

“You are a huge attention ho. Please. You slept with at least five other men that I know of while you were with me.”

“It was an open relationship,” Fraser said to the journalist, who’d gone from scrolling through her phone beside Fraser, looking bored, to shifting impatiently from one stiletto to the next. “On-again off-again.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I wish you’d have told me that,” I said. “I’d never have asked you to move in.”

Fraser grinned triumphantly and turned to the journalist. “Like I said, it was my home. I always knew something was off about it, though. Especially the bedrooms.”

“That was probably guilt from fucking randos in my bed,” I said.

“Oh, calm down, Ray. It was my bed, too.”

My blood pressure sky rocketed. “It was not! I bought it on sale from John Lewis, it took me six months to find that bedding set, and it’s my house! You lived here for a year!” I looked over at the journalist, who was watching us carefully. “He didn’t even contribute to the utilities or the groceries.”

He hadn’t contributed to my life at all, I realised. Unlike Adam, who had done nothing but try to contribute. From the very start.

“Do you want to move in with me?” I said, turning my face up to Adam.

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