1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

WYATT

The dark chocolate ganache has to be perfect. Not just because it’s my older brother’s birthday and he requested this dessert but because my craft requires it. Few things keep my mind free of the nightmares from my time overseas, crafting baked delicacies being one of them. As stupid as it sounds, using my hands for something that requires a gentle touch brings me out of the darkness. Unfortunately, this is the second attempt at the ganache and I don’t have enough ingredients to fail again.

My face twists in frustration as I craft it on top of the light buttercream frosting, moving slowly to recreate the exact drip pattern from the picture Reggie sent me. I’m not even sure why he cares about the cake when his entire party will be full of fraternity brothers with whom he still spends every waking moment. I swear he’s forgotten that college ended over ten years ago.

I lay the bowl down after finishing the drip pattern, content with my creation.

A crash outside the kitchen has me cringing, eyes wide for a threat that doesn’t exist. The door bursts open, Reggie staggering forward. I should have expected the party would start when the others arrived. They’re almost always drunk or on an adrenaline high that I want to be nowhere near. “Lil bro!” He yells as he slaps my back.

A tendril of terror runs through me as I step out of reach so that he can’t touch me again. There’s been one too many discussions about my comfort level since I returned from my deployment but Reggie has never understood. Our younger brother, Axel, has but he and Reggie don’t speak after a falling out years ago. I’m the middle man but even then, I spend most of my time getting lost in my bakery in the city's heart.

Reggie has never respected my choices, not that I ever expected him to. I might have six inches and 50 lbs on him but I’ll always still be the little brother that sold out for sugar.

“Aw, is that my cake? It’s so fucking cute! Can you make some of those chocolate bombs too? We’re inviting a few more of the guys over and we want to-”

I drown out his drunken request, waiting until he finds something more interesting outside the kitchen. The only reason I agreed to use his house for my cooking base was because there was a door to this space. I also miss my childhood home after my parents passed it down to the three of us. It made most sense for Reggie to have it as I had left for the military and Axel preferred something a little different. We bought out our shares and in return, Reggie wouldn't sell it. Nothing much has changed since we grew up here, such as the paisley walls and trim, which remind me of my mother’s odd choices.

However, it now has a faint stench of rum, sex, and cigarettes.

“Get out, Reg.”

My throat constricts as the door opens again, Reggie’s best friend leaning in the doorway. It feels like the world slows down as Jameson enters my space. He’s dressed to impress, a light gray sweater and dress pants covering his small form. His dirty blonde hair adds to his attractive aura, neatly combed like he just came over from work. He probably did. He is a good six inches shorter than me, but most everyone is when I'm 6’5”. Pale green eyes darken as they land on Reggie, Jameson growing increasingly annoyed before he drags my brother out into the living room.

There are several whispered words before I’m able to breathe again, Jameson returning a second later. “Hey, how are you holding up?” His soft voice has me completely relaxing as he steps up to me, placing a gentle hand on my waist. With all of Reggie’s friends, I’m just the kid brother. The monster who bakes. The one who sold out for sugar. With Jameson, I’m so much more than that. He sees me and all the tortured emotions I try to keep under wraps.

Like Axel, Jameson understands how much I can handle. Sudden loud sounds and unexpected touches have grown to be a problem. His hand squeezes my torso until I let out a little breath and sag back against the counter. “Fuck.”

“You should have told Reggie that you would drop the cake off. Why would you bake here when you knew there would be all this noise?” Jameson’s voice is still soft, something I’ve noticed is only for me. Everyone else gets his business voice or the frat boy version of him that he can still slip into if needed. “You have nothing to prove, babe. Nothing. ”

I wish it were that simple. I wish I believed it was that simple.

“It’s fine. I’m almost done.”

Jameson snorts. “No, you’re not. Reggie mentioned something about chocolate bombs and I know he wants the decorative jello shots too. Why didn’t you just get it catered and say you did it? He’s drunk enough not to know the difference.”

I gently push him to the side so I can grab a few ingredients from the fridge. “First, I won’t disrespect my craft by asking someone else to cater this. Second, you would know the difference.” A wide smile spreads across Jameson’s face when I return with more chocolate, milk, and an egg. Unbeknownst to Reggie, Jameson is more than just my brother’s best friend.

He’s also mine.

My lifeline.

My heart and soul.

And also off limits.

Bros before hoes or whatever the saying is.

Jameson never seems to care, though, dragging me into sweet kisses or showing up at my apartment to shower me with romance and affection. I have to wonder when it’ll no longer be exciting to keep me a secret, when Jameson will demand that I announce who’s in my head, heart, and in my bed.

“You’re right. I would know the difference which is why I came in here for a taste test. I always know you have ‘mistakes’.”

Just another reason why this man has my heart. What I call imperfections, he calls perfect. I’m surprised he isn’t carrying around a little belly with all the sugar he eats from my leftover creations. I point to a small plate of chocolate cake and buttercream icing that was specifically set aside for him, Jameson hopping up onto the counter before dragging the plate into his lap.

“Fork, please. I am not a barbarian.”

I snort as I rustle through a drawer and produce a utensil, Jameson digging in like he’s starved.

“Jesus Christ. Wyatt, do you put drugs in this shit? It melts in your mouth, just disappears on my tongue. Is that rum? It’s delicious.”

My face warms at his praise but I’m used to his excitement over my creations. It’s nice to have someone salivate for the things I take so much time with, encouraging me when I’m frustrated and praising me when I need it. Even when the door is closed and I’m on my knees for this man, there’s never a harsh word out of his mouth.

I creep closer, loving the way Jameson gets lost in the sugar. His eyes widen almost comically, his entire face smiling as he sucks on the fork. The sounds that are falling from his lips are making my cock hard, reminding me what other things that skilled mouth can do. Jameson locks onto my thoughts almost immediately, trading the fork for my lips. His hand slips around the back of my neck and I lean against his side, the man thrusting his tongue into my mouth as he gets the right angle.

He tastes like chocolate and happiness and safety. He tastes like home if that can even be a flavor.

“You’re sleeping with me tonight,” Jameson mumbles against my lips as he pulls back. I clear my throat, raising an eyebrow at his suggestion. I wasn’t planning on spending the night here, although I’m not a fan of driving in the dark and it’s already pushing 7 pm. I should have planned better. “ Just sleeping, babe. You need out of your head and I need to cuddle my man.” His eyes dart to the kitchen door and he groans, the faint sound of someone calling his name stealing his attention. “Looks like I’m on Reggie duty.”

Jameson hops down from the counter just before stuffing the rest of the scraps into his mouth. “As much as I want to tell your brother about us, I don’t want him to find out when he’s drunk.”

“He’ll crucify the both of us. Maybe me more than you for stealing away one of his best friends.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he steps up to me again and wraps his arms around my back. “Babe, two things. You’re one of my best friends too. Besides, do you really care if he were to find out? I could do things like this.” Jameson raises up on his toes to press another kiss to my lips. We’ve been hiding this thing for the better part of two months although the feelings started years ago.

We just never acted on it.

“No, I don’t think I care anymore.”

Six years ago when I graduated college, I didn’t want to anger Reggie. I said nothing before I deployed, hoping that my crush on Jameson would just disappear. But it didn’t—it hasn’t and now I can’t imagine a life that doesn’t have him in it. Jameson is right, though. It doesn’t matter what my brother thinks, even if his disapproval will hurt a little.

I also don’t want Reggie to find out when he’s drunk.

Jameson kisses me again before disappearing out into the living room. A part of me leaves with him before I start on the chocolate bombs but I can’t stop the smile spreading across my lips knowing that he’ll be in my bed tonight.