CHAPTER 188

BRIAN POV

I don’t know who I am anymore as I woke up in bed with my best friend and the girl whose pussy we both pounded last night.

 My dick is already at half mast, even though my stomach is churning at the thought of it all.

  Moona is still asleep between us, her face resting on my arm and her ankle over mine. She looks peaceful in the warm morning light, nothing like the dirty girl who begged for dick last night.

  Sleeping next to her was beautiful. 

Her limbs tangled in mine after so long sleeping alone was exquisite.

      Having Cain on the other side of her really shouldn’t seem like such a big deal after what went down in the shower, but it still has me reeling.

      Fuck, the shower.

      My cock twitches at the thought and I grimace, not sure whether to jerk myself to hardness or jump right on back in to hose myself down cold.

  I don’t know how this happened, and I don’t know why I can’t stop.

      I don’t know why I’m tumbling down the rabbit hole without so much as an attempt to slow my fall.

      That’s a lie. As soon as Moona yawns in her sleep and her nose wrinkles I know exactly why I’ve fallen so willingly.

 Cain props himself up on an elbow and stares over. The guy’s hair is too short for bed hair and I’m jealous because mine feels like a nest on my head.

I flash him a look, conveying just how many variations of fucked-up I’m feeling right now.

 He gestures to the bedroom door and I nod, freeing myself so gently from Moona’s grip as I slip out of the covers and follow him.

      My fucking clothes are nowhere to be seen, just a pair of boxers that I scoop up from the bathroom floor.

      I have to traipse downstairs in my underwear after my naked best friend like this isn’t the weirdest fucking setup we’ve ever been in. He pulls on his t-shirt in the living room and I step into my discarded trousers with a sigh of relief.

   “Let’s get a coffee before we say anything,” Cain says, and that’s probably for the best.

      He sticks the kettle on and I take a seat at the island, amazed at the fact that it’s tiredness, not a hangover, that has me feeling like a bag of shit. I can’t even say I was drunk. I wasn’t even close.

      And neither was he.

      “Thanks,” I say as Cain puts a hot mug of black in front of me.

 “The Moona Avii effect,” he laughs. 

“You weren’t fucking joking.”

  “Glad you’re finding this hilarious.”

    

  He raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”

      

“We did filthy things to an eighteen year old girl with serious behavioural and emotional challenges last night. A girl who was on my books until a matter of weeks ago.”

      He shrugs. “I think you’ll find her behavioural challenges are improving. Her emotional ones, too. Our therapy has been far more successful than anything you did with her in the books, if you don’t mind me saying.”

      “That’s not the point.”

“I think it is,” he says. “She’s happy. We’re happy.”

  “Are we?” I ask, shaking my head about the whole thing before I take a swig of coffee. It goes down like a dream.

      “I’m fucking happy,” he tells me. 

“You seemed pretty damn happy too last night. We hardly dragged you up there kicking and screaming, you were the one who gave me the nod before we even touched the girl.” He pauses. “Is this about your job?”

 My eyes burn his. “Of course it’s not about my job. This goes way beyond my job.”

      “Then what’s it about? Being too close to another man’s dick? Because truth be told, I’m not too stoked on that bit myself, but I’m getting over it.”

 “It’s not about your dick,” I tell him, even though the memory makes my heart pound.

      “Then what? Wasn’t it as good as you thought it would be?”

      I shake my head. “It’s got nothing to do with how good I thought it would be.” 

The memories pile in and I’m embarrassed at how much I enjoyed it. All of it.

 “So enlighten me, because I’m missing a puzzle piece here. She wants us, we want her, she’s perfectly legal and perfectly willing, so we took her, we came a lot, she came a lot. The end.” He glugs back his coffee. “Now we need to work out what happens from here on in.”

 “I can’t do this,” I say, even though my dick hates me for it. “This isn’t who I am.”

“You don’t know who you are,” he laughs, as though I’m the one who’s fucking crazy here. “Ever since you holed up with your ex… you’ve been going through the motions of some cardboard cut-out ideal of normality. You think being nice has to make you a fucking saint, man. And it doesn’t.”

 “Just as well, isn’t it? Because I wasn’t exactly on my best behaviour when I was balls deep inside a girl I’m supposed to be taking care of.”

“You are taking care of her. She’s more loved than she’s ever been.” He sighs and I realise he’s as churned up as I am. “You have to tell me what you want to do here, Brian, because I’m drawing a fucking blank.”

      And so am I.

      I stare into the coffee like it holds the answer to this whole fucked-up scenario.

      “I love her,” I tell him.

 “I know,” he says. “So do I. And you’re my best friend, so I love you too. Not in a gay way, before you think this is a come on. It’s not a fucking come on. I’ve no intention of putting my face any closer to your dick than it’s already been, regardless of what that dirty little minx upstairs has to say about it.”

      His stupid smile makes me smile back, and I remember again that this is Cain. My Cain. The Cain who’s always been on my team, no matter what.

“My balls were on your chin,” I tell him, and he laughs.

 “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure mine were on yours too. Who’s fucking counting?” His expression turns serious. “Tell me honestly that you don’t want to do it again, and we’ll draw a line under it. We’ll never do it again. She can choose one of us, or live with both of us entirely platonically. Whatever. If you’re really serious about this not being for you, then it’s not viable for any of us.”

      I stare at him.

      I think about it.

      Contemplate the reality of calling time on all this.

      And I don’t say another word.