Page 143 of Too Close To Home

Brodie met his gaze. “Had to. Because of Jake.”

Harrison kept his expression neutral. “Go on.”

“He wouldn’t have liked it.” Brodie chewed on his fingernail. “Me serving Andy. Letting him in here at all. I couldn’t upset Jake, not when we’d just got back together.”

Harrison peered up, widening his eyes. “Back together?”

Something cold slipped beneath Harrison’s ribs.

Ridiculous.

He’d been in Jake’s flat less than an hour ago. Jake had held Harrison’s hand against his bare chest and told him, in terms that hadn’t left a great deal of room for ambiguity, that he still wanted him.

And yet—

Jake had also made it perfectly clear that sex and emotion didn’t always occupy the same space for him.

Harrison suddenly wished they did.

“So now we’re together,” Brodie continued. “Properly. He’s my boyfriend.”

Harrison dropped his gaze to the notebook, giving himself precisely one second to get his expression under control. It still bloody pinched. Even though he didn’t believe it.

Not entirely.

“You saw me earlier,” Brodie added. “At his place.”

“I did.”

“We’d just made it official.”

Harrison looked up again. Brodie was watching him. Not casually either. Watching for something. A reaction? Or to see if Harrison believed him.

Harrison clicked his pen. “So you lied about recognising Andy because you were concerned Jake might discover you’d served him?”

“Didn’t want to stir everything up again.”

“If you’re frightened of upsetting Jake, why allow Andy in here in the first place?”

Brodie paused.

Only briefly, but Harrison saw it. Saw him reaching for the next piece.

“Like I said, bloke helped me with the car. Didn’t realise who he were straight away. It were only after, when everything kicked off, that I put it together.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And by then… Jake had enough going on. He needs me when he gets like that.”

Harrison said nothing.

“I’m the one he talks to,” Brodie continued. “The one he comes to. Always has been, really.”

That wasn’t what Jake had said.

“We’ve known each other ages.” Brodie’s fingers worried at his thumbnail again. “I know what he’s like. People think they know him, but they don’t. Not like I do.”

There was something almost possessive in the way he said it.

“He trusts me.”

“I see.”