Page 42 of Curious

“That’s crazy, Jeremy. You’re not thinking straight. They love you, honey. And if Owen doesn’t tell you so himself, he isn’t the man I’ve been friends with all these years. I saw his face when you kissed him. That feeling isn’t something you give up on at the first sign of trouble.”

Jeremy buried his face in his hands. “He was just curious,” he whispered. “He never said… He never says anything like that. He loves the sex—wanted the sex—but that was all it was. We aren’t together. We’re not in love. You can’t even call what we were doing dating. Not really.”

He’d never said anything about them having a future. Never said anything about caring for Jeremy or wanting more from him then friendship and fucking. Jeremy thought…the way he acted…but Owen never said.

“Oh my beautiful man,” Tasha said, her voice wavering. “You know I adore you and I’d do anything for you, but I won’t let you lie to yourself. You might not be sure about how he feels, but you’re in love with him. For the first time in your life you are head over heels and I messed it up. Some friend I turned out to be.”

He reached for her and moved until they were lying on the couch together, her head on his chest. “You’re not responsible for this, Tasha. Scott is. I hope like hell Stephen puts him in his place.”

But even if he did, Owen would still have to face his brothers without him and explain that kiss. What would he say? That it was nothing? That it meant nothing?

“Damn it, I feel fucking helpless.” Every instinct he had was telling him to go, to help. The only thing stopping him was the knowledge that his presence would make the situation worse.

“Jeremy? Can I stay here for a while?” The vulnerability in Tasha’s voice had him tightening his arms around her. “I don’t think you should be alone right now and I sure as hell don’t want to be. I know you might hate me, but just for now can we pretend you don’t?”

She was hurting. He had to get over himself and think about her. She needed him. She loved him no matter who he kissed. Who he loved. “Natasha, I love you as much as I always have. You can stay as long as you need to. We’ll cuddle on the couch and I’ll make your favorite pasta and we’ll shut out the rest of the world. I think I have another tequila bottle in the cabinet. And vodka if we run out.”

Tasha sighed, nuzzling against him. “You’re the best friend a girl could have, you know that, right?”

His hand slid down her back and squeezed her ass. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Don’t tease me.” There was a smile in her voice at last. “I still have a crush on your body.”

“Ditto, honey. You’ve ruined me for all other women.”

She laughed, but it still sounded heavy with tears. “I don’t think I’m the one who did that.”

They spent the next few hours comforting each other before he started the coffee and made sure she ate. He knew they’d both come to some sort of unspoken understanding that the sexual aspect of their friendship was over. Too much had been revealed today—Jeremy’s love for Owen and Tasha’s conflicted emotions about Stephen.

He wished she’d told him about Stephen years ago. The uptight Finn brother now looked human in a way he never had before. And flawed. Now that Jeremy knew, he could see it in her face whenever she talked about him. Her feelings for Stephen were complicated but strong. There was more there than she was saying. He also had a feeling the casual nature of their relationship wasn’t entirely her choice. What was wrong with Stephen? Why did he keep stringing her along?

Damn those Finn boys for being oblivious and stubborn and impossible to resist. Damn them for only wanting sex and refusing to give their hearts in return.

Natasha fell asleep on the couch and he left her there, heading to his bedroom to shower. He turned on the water, stripped and stepped beneath the spray, trying to wash away the dizzying fog of alcohol.

It was late. Too late. Owen probably would have been here by now if he were coming. Would have answered one of the three messages Jeremy had left for him when Tasha wasn’t paying attention.

He’s dealing with the problem. He’ll have to come back eventually, if only to get his things. His roof isn’t even fixed yet. He’ll talk to you then.

His thoughts didn’t comfort him. What if he didn’t talk to him? Jeremy couldn’t think of anything more painful than watching Owen Finn gathering his things, avoiding eye contact and conversation, and disappearing from his house and life, leaving an empty space that would never be filled.

He hoped Owen was okay. That his brothers weren’t giving him too much grief. That it hadn’t hurt him to see Tasha with Stephen. He hoped that somewhere, some part of Owen regretted that their time together had to end so soon.

You’re being pathetic and needy. Stop embracing the damn cliché. It was what it was, nothing more.

And now it was over.

He turned off the shower and wandered into the bedroom while he was drying off. He could hardly look at the bed. When he did he saw Owen bending him over it after binding him in his suspenders. Owen waking up and smiling wickedly as soon as he saw him, ripping away the sheet to reveal his morning erection. Owen walking softly around the room as he dressed, not knowing Jeremy was awake.

He might have to get a new bed. He shook his head. Hell, if he started thinking like that, he’d end up burning the house down and moving to another state. Owen was everywhere. He always had been, even before they got together.

“Jeremy?” Tasha’s call carried down the hallway. “We’ve got company.”

Owen? He wrapped his towel around his waist, wrenched open the door and forced himself not to run. Had Owen finally come back?

His heart cracked when he realized it was the wrong Finn.

“Jen?” He stopped and ran a hand through his wet hair in disbelief.

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