33. Kale

I sleptlike shit and washed myself with Christian's soap to convince myself he was closer to me than he was. Parrish had texted to let me know Christian was safe at home, back under the rule of his father, but Christian had yet to reach out to me on his own. I don't know what I expected, but…

Silence hadn't been it.

I emailed him once, then threw myself into work with more focus than anyone who worked with me or for me would have liked. When Stefan's glaring absence became too much to bear, I finally gave in and called my brother.

"Do you still want a job?" I asked.

"Yes!"

"Your first job is to do something with those rotting pumpkins from Mom and Dad, then get your ass down here and help me get my schedule back in order."

"Thank you, Kale." My brother sounded more excited than I'd ever heard him. "You won't regret this."

That was yet to be seen, but at least I knew Ford wasn't going to fuck Boston for two reasons—one, my brother was straight, and two, he was my brother. Either way, for better or worse, I'd given him the job he wanted which felt to me a lot like Boston's first step out of the city and back to the farm. I'd deal with the ramifications of that later, though. My schedule was a mess, my brain was a disaster, and I stared out the window while I waited for my brother to show up and dig me out.

"This isn't like you," Boston observed…three hours later, after we'd gotten everything in my life back on track. "You're one of the most diligent and stringent people I've ever met."

"Right, well, I went and fell in love with a prince who isn't answering my emails now, so my head isn't quite as in the game as it normally is."

Boston stared at me, brows knit in confusion, then he blinked and laughed.

"That's a good one," he said. But when my expression didn't change, his was quick to. "Wait. Were you serious?"

I dropped my forehead down onto my desk at the same time someone knocked on my door.

"Ignore it," I told my brother, but he was already on his feet and across the room.

"Is Prince Charming back in the real world?" I heard Ford ask from the doorway.

Rolling my head over so my cheek pressed against the cool wood of my desk, I sighed in his direction. "Am I the prince in this scenario or are you talking about Christian?"

"Holy shit." Boston stepped aside to let Ford into my office. "You really are dating a prince?"

"I don't think you're the damsel in distress here." Ford threw himself down in the guest seat that had just been occupied by my brother. "Glad to see you back amongst the living with your cock in your pants."

"Can you watch your mouth?" I forced myself to sit up, adjusting my tie. "My brother is here."

"Your brother is the same age as you, and not that I've personally checked, but…" Ford raked a devilish look up my brother's body. "I'm sure he has a cock."

"Don't," I warned.

"Uhm…" Boston cleared his throat, fidgeting with his tie, which wasn't nearly as well-knotted as it had been before Ford's arrival. "I can go."

"You're on the clock." I pointed to him and then the second guest chair. "Sit down."

Ford quirked a brow. "On the clock?"

"Ford Carlisle." I turned my finger toward my insidiously horny best friend. "Don't you dare."

He held up his hands, a calculating smirk playing across his mouth while he leaned back in his chair and stretched out, clearly making himself at home. Boston settled into the second seat, reaching across my desk to pull his laptop closer.

"There's just one last thing on your list we haven't gotten to," Boston said.

Even though I'd let my calendar get unruly since I met Christian, I knew—in painstaking detail—what every item there entailed, and I knew which had been left behind during my brother's impressive scheduling overhaul.

"I'll do it later," I said.

"Call Beamer," Boston said at the same time.

Ford made an amused sound in the back of his throat, and I had half a mind to crawl over my desk and strangle the man with my bare hands.

"What's so preposterous about that?" I asked him instead.

"Is that man of his even going to let him answer your calls?"

"If he doesn't, he's going to have a bigger problem than he already does," I countered, squaring my shoulders. "I'm sure he'd rather manage me on the phone than on his porch."

"They have a doorman," Ford said conversationally. "You wouldn't even get to the elevator without his approval."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I talk to Beamer once a week," he said.

I snapped my mouth closed, biting my lips together until it hurt. I truly had been the biggest piece of shit to Beamer when he introduced us to Dalton. I'd made peace enough before Beamer left New York for Los Angeles, but there was still a lot left unsaid. The conversation I had with Alex at The Black Door echoed around my head as a reminder.

"Of course you do."

Ford feigned confusion. "He's my friend, Sheffield. That's what friends do."

"I think it's time for a lunch break." I stood abruptly, shoving my chair back so hard it almost crashed into the wall. I was well aware of the fact I was being unfair to both of them, more overbearing than I had any right to be, but the silence from the other end of my phone had already started to wear me down. Knowing it was hypocritical of me, I wondered if Beamer felt the same way when my name never flashed on his caller ID. Especially knowing that Ford, of all people, had gone out of his way to maintain contact…

I felt like the asshole I'd always told people I was.

"That's why I'm here," Ford said, standing and giving a quick adjustment to his suit jacket. "I know it's your first day back out of the sex bubble, and I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself."

"I'm a whole adult, Ford. I can manage a meal on my own."

"Probably so, but not today." Ford squinted at Boston. "Did you want to join us?"

"No," I answered, shooting my brother an apologetic look. "He's my brother, but he's still an employee."

"Right." Ford gave a conciliatory shrug to both of us. "And you have that pesky no fraternization rule."

"I have that you don't fu—you know what. Never mind." I turned to Boston. "Are you good on your own today? We can get dinner later and level set the day."

"I'm fine, Kale," he assured me, snapping his laptop closed and tucking it under his arm. "I'm also a whole adult capable of managing a meal on my own."

At that, Ford laughed and knocked his elbow so hard into my ribs I thought I was going to keel over on the spot.

"I forgot how much I like you, Boston."

My brother shot my best friend an endearing grin, and I rolled my eyes at both of them.

"Lunch is fine," I said to Ford, "but can you give me five minutes? I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Sure thing." Ford gave me a mock salute and then ushered Boston out the door, closing it behind him with a quiet click.

Carefully—and slowly—as if I could drag out the inevitable, I wheeled my chair closer to my desk and sat back down. There were still no messages on my phone from Christian, and I did my best to ignore the way that made my heart crack a little bit. It was basically what I'd asked for. Before he returned home, I'd been clear that he needed to face his responsibilities there like a man, but I'd foolishly assumed that was something he would do with me by his side, at least in spirit. That was clearly not the way things had gone, and I tried my best to swallow back any impending panic I felt about all the other things his silence could mean.

In my gut, I knew if something was wrong, Parrish would tell me. I also knew that, absolute worst case scenario, I could reach out to him and check up on Christian. But if the separation was how Christian chose to get his next steps in order, I wanted to respect that and give him the control to make those choices on his own.

I swiped through my contacts and mentally marked off the last unscheduled item on my always overflowing agenda.

"Hello?" Beamer sounded confused when he answered the phone, and I would have rather thrown myself out the window than listened to that tone come out of his mouth again. He had been—he was—one of my closest friends since college, and I'd ruined better than fifteen years of friendship over a childish pissing match because I didn't like his new husband. The worst part was, I had no reason not to like Dalton Fox. The man was head over heels for Beamer and as committed as any man ever had been. He was exactly the kind of man I should have wanted for my friend, and yet…

I was jealous because he stole my best friend from me.

"Hey." My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. "Hey, Beamer."

"Kale." I could almost hear him smiling. "I didn't expect to hear from you."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"What for?" he asked.

The list of things I had to apologize for was nearly as long as the agenda it had taken Boston and me half the day to sort through.

"Can I say everything?"

He was quiet for a moment. "You could."

I could, but that would be the easy way out.

"I'm sorry for not calling sooner." It was the least of the things I had to apologize for, but that somehow made it the easiest place to start. "And I'm sorry for…for how I treated Dalton."

"How did you treat him, Kale?"

I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath that felt a lot like razor blades.

"I thought being gone, some of that dominance would wear itself out of your attitude," I mumbled.

"My husband is more dominant than you give him credit for."

"I saw you on your fucking knees for him, Beamer. I know how dominant the man is," I snapped, scrubbing a hand down my face.

"And that's the problem."

"I'm sorry that I'm possessive and that I'm jealous," I grumbled. "Sorry that I was mean to him."

"Anything else?"

"I'm sorry that…sorry that I treated you like you were lesser for—" The words caught in my throat, wrapped around that jagged breath I was still struggling to get into my lungs. "For being submissive to him."

I'd been a dominant in the bedroom for as long as I'd been having sex. The roles and the responsibility came naturally to me, and the thought of giving up any of that had previously been enough to make my skin crawl. I appreciated the bravery and power that came from submission, as I'd been witness to it on plenty of occasions, but it wasn't until Christian that I well and truly understood the strength it took to go to your knees for another man.

"Apology accepted," Beamer said quietly. "Now tell me about your prince."

A startled laugh broke free of the tangled mess in my throat, and I leaned back, pressing my phone against my ear. "It's that simple, then?" I asked.

"You're my best friend, Kale. Of course it's that simple."

Relief washed over me, plastering me down to the chair, and I was happy to let it roll back toward the wall as my weight settled deeper into the seat.

"Thank you," I said.

"It's nothing."

If I closed my eyes, I could see him waving me off, his blond hair coiffed back like nothing in the world had ever dared to bother him. That was what I wanted for Christian, as well. To be under my care, my watch, so that he could feel as carefree as Beamer sounded now that he had Dalton's ring on his finger.

"Ford says you're really in deep with this prince you met," he said, picking up a conversation like I wasn't the worst friend in the world, freshly forgiven of my sins.

"I love him," I admitted, and Beamer responded with a content little sigh.

He always had been a lovesick fool. And now with Christian on the brain, I wasn't any better.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know, but I have Ford in the lobby and I'm worried he's going to try and sleep with my brother if I don't get out there soon, so can we catch up later tonight?"

"Isn't Boston straight?"

"As an arrow, but you know how Ford can be with his fingers when he sets his mind to something."

"You don't really think he would try to sleep with your brother, do you?"

I turned off my computer screen, then grabbed my wallet and keys, tucking them into my pockets and heading toward the door.

"I don't think so, but he wouldn't be where he is today if he didn't seize an opportunity when he saw one."

Beamer laughed, and I promised I'd call him later that night, then I headed out to make sure my best friend kept his hands off of my brother.