19. Keir

"Were you with Emma?" I ask him as soon as the ladies made a dash for the door without even saying goodbye. I know he was. He has that self-satisfied smirk on his face that I want to punch right off.

Lachlan just shrugs nonchalantly, slanting a glance my way as he swallows the rest of his shot. His eyes flash with defiance and mischief. "Maybe," is all he offers, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriating way that suggests he knows exactly what he's doing to me.

I lean back against the bar, trying to calm the sudden tightness in my chest. Of course, I knew he'd end up charming Emma eventually, but actually witnessing it is a whole other matter. It stings more than I care to admit, especially since I've harboured feelings for Emma, since who knows when. But Lachlan doesn't know that. Or doesn't know the extent of it. If he took a long, hard look at the women I go for, they are mostly gorgeous redheads with blue eyes. Yeah, I have a type, and the woman who started that just fucked my best friend.

"Fuck," I growl. "Fuck you."

"Hey, what did I do?" he asks, genuinely puzzled by my acidic comment. Lachlan raises a brow, his expression changing from amusement to concern in a flash. "You okay, mate?" he queries, the laughter gone from his voice.

I shove off the bar and glance around at the few stragglers left in the pub. I don't want this conversation here. Not when I can't throw a proper punch without getting barred for life. "Let's take this outside," I suggest, my voice low and strained.

He nods, understanding the need for privacy, and we make our way out the door, into the night. I try to get a grip on my emotions—anger, jealousy, a bitter sense of betrayal that doesn't quite make sense, considering Emma isn't mine and never has been.

Once we're outside, I start the walk back to our apartment, with Lachlan keeping up with my brisk pace. "What's really got your knickers in a twist?"

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You know how I feel about Emma," I say flatly.

He blinks at me, then scratches his head. "You fancy her. So do I. I made a move, and it paid off?—"

"I don't just fancy her, fuckhead. I'm fucking in love with her. I have been forever. Since I first laid eyes on her across the schoolyard, she has been the woman I wanted. Okay? This isn't just some stupid fucking competition to see who gets the girl. That girl, that woman, is meant to be mine."

"Whoa, okay. Hold on a minute. You can't throw a bombshell like that and keep walking. You never said any of this before."

"Why would I? I knew you fancied her and would try it on. I guess I hoped she wouldn't fall for it."

"It?" He grimaces at me when we stop under a lamppost.

"Your charm, your fucking face, the way you always seem to get what you want. I was hoping she'd see past you to me."

"Fuck," he says, scrubbing his face with his hand in a gesture I know is anxiety. It makes me feel bad for shouting at him, but then I think of his dick inside Emma, and I growl, turning to walk away again.

I hear Lachlan's steps behind me as he catches up. His voice is softer now, tinged with something that sounds a lot like regret. "I didn't know, mate. I swear."

I stop again and face him. "Doesn't change anything, does it?" My voice is rough, and the words are like gravel in my throat.

He looks at me, his eyes searching mine for something I can't quite place. "It might not change what happened tonight, but knowing changes how we go forward." Lachlan stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking thoughtful, almost like he is plotting something big.

There's a part of me that wants to rage at him, to blame him for everything, but that's bollocks. It was Emma's choice, too, and deep down, I know it's not fair to lash out at Lachlan when I never had the balls to say anything myself.

"Look," Lachlan continues, "Emma's her own person, and who has to say she can only have one of us…"

"What?" I snap. "You want her to date both of us?"

"Why not?" he asks with a shrug so casual, I wonder if I'm the one who isn't making any sense.

"Why not?" I ask. "Why not? Sure, why the fuck not? I'll just call her up tomorrow and say, Hey Emma, I know you fucked Lachlan last night, but I'm in love with you, and he thinks it's okay for you to date both of us, so wanna go get a drink? Maybe fuck me in the loos and see where the night takes us?"

"It was out back," Lachlan says.

"What?"

"We fucked out back, not in the loos."

"Jesus! Do you hear yourself!"

"Look, it wasn't just some quick drunken shag. Not for her and not for me. She is…"

"You don't even know her!"

"Well, neither do you!" he roars at me. "Not really. Why are we arguing about this? I want her, you want her. If she decides she wants me, I'm not backing down, but there's no reason to. She is woman enough for both of us."

"Oh. My. God!" I snarl. "Listen to yourself!"

I march off again, leaving Lachlan standing there looking like a stunned haddock.

My mind whirls with a wild mix of anger and heartache. Lachlan's words, so absurd on the surface, keep echoing in my head. Woman enough for both of us? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I make it halfway down the street before I hear Lachlan catch up again.

"Keir, wait," he calls out, but I don't stop. "Stop, you arsehole."

"Fuck you!"

"Don't give me that bull. Think over what I'm saying to you. And then think about talking to Emma. At the end of the day, this is her decision."

That makes me stop. Yeah, it is, and I can't see her agreeing to this dumb plan.

"She is the team owner now," I say quietly. "She shouldn't be getting involved with either of us. How will that look for her?"

He pauses and sighs heavily. "Yeah, I know, but?—"

"But nothing."

We walk on in silence as the reality of this situation descends on us like a heavy, wet black cloak of doom.