Page 7 of The Long Game

“Yes,” Jack said, finally meeting Grady’s eyes. “I don’t do relationships. I can’t. And you don’t want…” Jack gestured at himself. “It just won’t work.”

“Okay,” Grady said slowly. He wasn’t going to point out it was just one kiss, let alone touch the wordrelationship. Given the way Grady’s chest ached at Jack’s rejection, at Jack’s helpless gesture at himself, Grady couldn’t really argue the point anyway.

His feelings for Jack were…complicated. They had been before the kiss, and it was getting worse every second. Over it all lay a deep, almost primal need to protect Jack, to erase the worry and hurt in his eyes.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

“It’s better if we stay friends.”

Grady kept his voice calm. “Okay. Then that’s what we’ll do.”

For a long moment, Jack just looked at him. There was no fear or anger or revulsion. Mostly, Jack appeared…lost.

Someone called Jack’s name and they both jumped.

Shit.

Grady gave Jack an apologetic grimace. “Sorry,” he said, gesturing toward the bar on the other side of the wall. “I should let you get back to it. That is, if you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. You probably have some paperwork to do, right?” Jack tried another smile, but it didn’t quite work. Most of the people Jack flirted with across the bar would have felt like the sun was shining just for them while on the receiving end of that smile, but Grady saw beyond the façade.

“I’ll be in touch,” Grady said.

“Sure,” Jack said as he reached for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

Grady followed Jack until he stepped behind the bar and dropped the heavy wood flap to close himself off.

Grady left without saying goodbye—it sounded too permanent—even if he was pretty sure that was what Jack had meant.

1

PRESENT DAY

Jack didn’t deserve his friends.

He’d be absolutely screwed without them, would never turn his back on them, and never do anything intentional to scare them away, but as he looked across the table at Garrick and Barnaby, he knew he was incredibly lucky they were in his life.

He’d known Garrick LeBlanc since they were kids playing shinny on the pond, wearing hand-me-down skates with bread bags over their feet for extra insulation. Garrick was the closest thing Jack had to a brother and had been unfailingly loyal through all of Jack’s shit. At points, Jack had tried to push him away, but Garrick hadn’t budged. Jack would never admit it to Garrick, but he was grateful his friend was such an incredibly stubborn pain in the ass.

Barnaby, on the other hand, Jack had met less than a year ago, but their friendship was just as strong. Just as unwavering. Barnaby Birtwistle was the most intelligent and curious man Jack knew, and he had unwittingly inspired a lot of change and a lot of joy in Jack’s life.

“That man over there looks like he wants to lick your face for a living, Jack,” Barnaby announced with what he probably thought was a subtle tilt of his head toward the bar.

Garrick promptly guffawed, spitting a fine mist of beer across half the table and down one side of Jack’s face.

Yes, Jackreallydidn’t deserve them.At all.

Jack dragged his napkin across his cheek while Garrick coughed and Barnaby cackled. It wasn’t funny except for how Garrick, who was just getting to know Barnaby, had been caught completely off guard. Barnaby had a magical way of delivering the most outrageous observations in his dust-dry English accent, though Jack could have done without thisparticularremark.

“Wait…” Garrick wheezed before sucking in a breath. “Are we talking about this now?”

Jack said, “No,” at the same time Barnaby declared, “We most certainly are. I don’t know how you’ve left it alone all this time.”

Jack folded his arms across his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The whole thing with this,” Garrick said, helpfully waving a hand in front of Jack’s face.

Jack frowned and swatted his hand away.

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