Page 136 of Knot Playing Fair 2

FIFTY-SIX

Zalen

WHEN I TRUDGED DOWNSTAIRSat oh-dark-thirty for coffee, I’d expected to have the kitchen to myself. It wasn’t accurate to say I’d been up all night thinking about what might be going on in Byron’s bedroom. I’d actually slept just fine.

I just hadn’t slept forlong.

And, of course, once I woke up, I knew there would be no getting back to sleep again. Rather than fight the inevitable, I’d hauled myself out of bed with the intention of caffeinating and heading into work early, before the others untangled from their post-coital snuggle pile and stumbled down for breakfast.

If anything, I’d assumed the footsteps I could hear pacing restlessly back and forth in the brightly lit kitchen belonged to Emiel, who’d also opted out of the nights, er...festivities.

I certainly hadn’t expected to find Nat, of all people, walking restlessly back and forth in front of the breakfast bar, his hands dragging through his mop of dark hair until it stuck up in all directions. Frankly, after some of the noises I’d heard down the hall last night, I was a bit impressed that he could walk atall.

“Morning,” I greeted, a bit cautiously. “Surprised to see you up this early. Is everything okay?”

At my appearance in the doorway, Nat froze as though I’d walked in on him committing a crime, instead of wearing atrench in the ceramic tile with his nervous pacing. He stared at me for a beat, looking like a rabbit that had hopped into the middle of the highway and gotten caught in the oncoming headlights—lips parted, eyes wide.

“Um...” he said.

My surprise tilted slightly in the direction of alarm.

“Nat?” I prodded. “Is everything all right?”

We stood squared off across the width of the kitchen, wreathed in the rich scent of brewing coffee. The seconds ticked by, and I’d just drawn breath to try again when the coffee maker beeped, its cycle complete. Nat jumped, clearly startled, and the moment broke.

He looked from the coffee machine back to me. An instant later, his posture slumped—his entire body curling in on itself.

“I’m going to fuck it up again,” he said, the words barely more than a whisper.

And... okay.

On the positive side, it didn’t sound like he’d had a sudden episode of gay panic or decided that he hadn’t liked whatever the others had done to him in Byron’s bedroom. Unfortunately, there were some additional things that might have happened to send Mia’s beta husband running to the other end of the house while his wife slept in the arms of two other men.

“Can we get some coffee for this conversation?” I asked mildly, coming into the kitchen and grabbing a couple of mugs from the cabinet. “Thanks for making it, by the way.”

Nat scrubbed a hand roughly over his face and nodded. It wasn’t nearly as obvious as it had been a week ago, but in the harsh overhead lighting, I could still make out the faint echoes of bruising on the side of his face.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry. I just... I couldn’t stay with the others.”

I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I poured us both coffee and handed him the first mug—black, the way I knew he took it.

“Drink,” I told him. “Then tell me what happened.”

Nat looked jittery enough without the caffeine, but he meekly sipped at the scalding mug, wrapping his hands around it as though he were chilled. After a moment, he hesitated and put it down on the counter.

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