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I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I’m a little worried he might just be doing it because I was fucking with him about it.”
Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. Harlan doesn’t strike me as the type to do anything he doesn’t want to.”
I swallowed. “But I, um, kind of kissed him earlier, and—”
I felt a hand come down solidly on my arm. “Stop. Stop right there. What?” Charlie said, holding one hand out and pressing another to my forearm. His eyes were wide. Jax’s eyes were wide.
I sat up a little straighter on my barstool, immediately wishing I could pull those words back into my mouth. This tended to happen to me more often than I ever bargained for: I would say something that seemed like a small thing, but was apparently juicy gossip to other people.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” I said. “I just felt like giving him a little kiss. A friendly thing. Encouragement. But now I’m worried I pressured him too much to go and flirt with that guy.”
“Back up. You kissed him?” Charlie said.
“First he acted shocked, and now you, too?” I asked. “Friends give each other a little peck on the lips sometimes, don’t they?”
“Oh, you sweet, sweet man,” Charlie said, shaking his head and smiling. “Has anyone ever told you that you can be clueless sometimes? It actually reminds me of Jax, before we got together.”
“Hey, who are you calling clueless?” Jax protested.
“My favorite, clueless frat boy,” Charlie told him sweetly.
I felt a little wave of envy as Jax and Charlie looked at each other with so much love in their eyes.
“Sawyer.” I turned to see that Harlan had walked over from the opposite side of the bar. “There you are.”
And he was drunk, alright.
“What do you mean, there you are?” I teased him. “I’ve been right here the whole time.”
“And god, I’ve missed you,” Harlan said, letting his gaze linger on mine for a moment.
Too drunk. Harlan was always comfortable around me, but even between the two of us, this was a bolder display of emotion than he ever usually showed. And it was doing something strange to my heart right now.
At some point he’d put his flannel back on and cuffed up the sleeves. As he leaned forward on the bar top, I noticed the bulk of his forearms, the soft hair there that I’d seen a million times but never really focused on before.
Everything about him just felt like home. Why did I like it so much? And why did it feel even better than usual to hear him say he’d missed me?
“How are you feeling tonight?” I asked.
I’d felt the pull to be responsible for him and take care of him all night, and now it was stronger than ever.
He looked from my lips back up to my eyes. “Drunk.”
“Didn’t know if you were going to admit it.”
“Can’t help it,” he said. “Too drunk to not admit I’m drunk.”
“Are you going to fuck him or not?” Charlie interjected from beside us.
Harlan blinked as he looked over at Charlie. “How many times do I have to tell you punks that Sawyer’s my best friend?”
“I think he was talking about Chase,” Jax offered innocently.
“Oh,” Harlan said. “Right. Him. God, no.”
Relief flooded me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t explain why, but I knew I’d rather take Harlan home and make sure he got a good night’s sleep.
“It looked like you two were hitting it off,” Charlie said.
Harlan pulled in a deep breath and stretched his arms over his head. As he stretched, a sliver of his skin peeked out near the waistband of his jeans, and my eyes were drawn to it. I saw Chase at the opposite end of the bar, his gaze just as fixed on Harlan as mine had been. Another customer sitting at the bar was catching a look, too.
How had I been so oblivious for so long to just how desirable my best friend must be to gay men? I swore I’d been so focused on what I should be doing for so many years that I rarely stopped to notice what was actually surrounding me.
“I let him down easy,” Harlan said. “Chase will have no problems finding many other guys who will show him a good time. What I have been thinking a lot about, though, is that I should definitely get a fishtank.”
His eyes were half-lidded now as he stared into the middle distance.
“A fishtank, huh?” I asked him.
“Absolutely,” he said, like it was the most important idea he’d ever had. “I might not want to hook up with Chase, but he showed me pictures of some of his guppies, and what the fuck? Since when are guppies so damn beautiful?”
“I think I like the drunk version of Harlan,” Jax said.
“This has nothing to do with me being drunk,” Harlan said, holding up a finger.
