Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jack

D avid turned to me, his eyes wide as dinner plates. “Dude, this is too freaky, even for me. My girlfriend would lose her shit if she ever walked in on something like this.”

Before I could say a word, he bolted. Sprinting toward the front door, he yanked it open and disappeared down the hallway.

I stood there, staring at the chaos in front of me. Liam sprawled on the bed, flushed and panting, the sheets a mess beneath him. A camera tripod sat a few feet away, surrounded by lighting equipment, and this…muscular guy was still on top of him like he belonged there.

My hands balled into fists at my sides. Part of me wanted to drag that guy off of Liam and kick his ass out onto the street. The other part—one I didn’t want to acknowledge—felt a flicker of heat. I couldn’t stop looking at Liam, even if I wanted to.

“Get the hell out. Both of you,” I said, my voice sharp enough to cut glass.

The guy froze, glancing back at the woman with the camera. She shrugged like she didn’t give a damn.

“Does this mean we’re done?” the guy asked, his voice almost sheepish.

Liam didn’t look at him and didn’t look at me. “Yeah.”

The guy shifted, climbing off of Liam slowly, gingerly, like he wasn’t sure if Liam would shatter beneath him. He grabbed his clothes from a pile on the floor and got dressed without saying another word. Meanwhile, the woman started packing up her gear, muttering under her breath about wasted time and amateurs.

My eyes couldn’t stop drifting back to Liam. He was lying there, bare and exposed, his skin flushed pink and his hair sticking to his damp forehead. I’d never seen him like this before—never seen anyone like this before.

He noticed me staring, and his hands shot to cover himself. His face twisted in something I couldn’t name—shame? Embarrassment? Hurt? A tear slipped down the side of his nose, and he swiped at it furiously.

The man and woman finished packing up, muttering something to each other before heading to the door. I stepped aside, letting them pass without a word. The front door clicked shut behind them, leaving only silence.

I turned back to Liam, still on the bed, and walked over. Sitting down on the edge, I felt the mattress shift under my weight.

Liam turned his face away from me, his expression crumbling into something broken. Shame radiated off him in waves, and it made my chest tighten in a way I couldn’t explain.

I willed him to look at me, to say something. Anything. But he wouldn’t. He kept his head turned away, one arm flung across his face like he wanted to disappear, the other hand hovering awkwardly over his crotch. His pain radiated off him, thick and suffocating. But what the hell was I supposed to say?

“It’s okay” would be a lie. Nothing about this was okay.

The silence dragged on, and my gaze faltered. My stupid, traitorous eyes betrayed me, drifting lower. His hands were trying to cover himself, but they didn’t quite do the job. My face heated instantly, and I snapped my gaze back up to the wall behind him. But it was too late.

“Please,” Liam said, his voice breaking. “Just…leave.”

The raw emotion in his voice hit me like a gut punch. I swallowed hard and stood up too quickly, my knees bumping the edge of the bed. The sudden movement made me realize something else entirely—something worse.

Shit.

I was hard.

I turned away from Liam, trying to hide it, trying to force my body to chill the hell out. What the hell was wrong with me? This was Liam—my best friend, my roommate. This was not the time for my body to betray me like this.

I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes for a second as if that might fix everything. It didn’t. My mind was racing, and my skin felt too hot, like I was about to combust right there.

Without looking back, I walked to the door. My hand hovered over the frame as I paused. “Get dressed,” I breathed. “We need to talk.”

I didn’t wait for his reply, and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind me.

I walked to the kitchen, yanked the fridge door open, and grabbed two beers. The cool metal of the cans against my palm grounded me a little as I stalked out to the balcony. Sliding the door shut behind me, I set the beers down on the cheap plastic table and dropped into one of the matching plastic chairs.

The memory of that guy—the stranger—on top of Liam flashed through my mind again, and my chest tightened with anger. My fingers drummed against the armrest, and I clenched my jaw, trying to shake it off. Liam wasn’t my boyfriend. He could do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted.

So why the hell did it make my skin crawl?

I rubbed the back of my neck, staring out at the city skyline, but my thoughts kept circling. Why was that woman filming them? Was this some weird kink Liam had never told me about? And how had I not known? We’d been best friends for years.

Holy hell, do I even really know Liam? Was this going to turn into another Bradley situation?

The sound of the sliding glass door opening broke into my thoughts, and I turned to see Liam stepping out. He was wearing gray sweatpants and an old t-shirt, his hands awkwardly positioned in front of his crotch. His face was red, and he avoided looking at me.

“Sit,” I sighed, gesturing to the chair next to me.

Liam hesitated, but finally shuffled over and sat down. For a long moment, the air was thick with awkward tension. I stared straight ahead, trying to gather my thoughts, but the anger bubbling up in me refused to stay bottled.

Finally, I turned to him, my voice sharp. “What the hell are you doing, Liam?”

He flinched, his shoulders hunching like he was trying to make himself smaller. “Jack—”

“No.” I cut him off, my voice rising. “What the hell was that? Some strange guy on top of you with some woman filming it? Who are these people? What is going on with you?!”

Liam raised a hand, his voice trembling but firm. “Stop. Let me explain.”

I crossed my arms and leaned back, fuming as he stood up and started pacing the balcony. My eyes trailed after him, but then I noticed something that made me blink in disbelief.

Liam still had an erection, and his choice of gray sweats was showing it in a very obvious way. Despite everything that had just happened—despite how embarrassed he looked—he was walking around the balcony with a hard-on.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh. This wasn’t funny. None of this was funny. But holy hell, how was I supposed to take him seriously when—

“I lost my job,” Liam said, dragging my attention back to him. “I’ve been trying to find something else, but nothings come through yet.”

I stayed silent, letting him continue.

“Laura gave me the idea for FantasyFans,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “She said I could make good money if I…” He trailed off, his face turning red. “If I started a page. It was supposed to be temporary, just until I got back on my feet.”

He stopped pacing and pulled his phone out of his pocket. As he did, he glanced down, noticed his situation, and groaned. “Goddamn it,” he muttered, collapsing into the chair next to me. He handed me the phone without meeting my eyes.

I glanced at the screen. His FantasyFans page was open, complete with a profile picture of him shirtless and looking seductive as hell.

“Oh shit, I forgot. I’m naked,” Liam blurted out, reaching for the phone.

I handed it back. “Relax. I’ve already seen everything there is to see, thanks to that little show back there.” I glared at him, my voice icy. “And why the hell do you still have a boner? Jesus, Liam. I thought I knew you.”

Liam groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Bobbi Mae gave me Viagra,” he admitted sheepishly. “And my stupid dick won’t stop misbehaving.”

I stared at him; the words hanging in the air between us. For a second, I didn’t know what to do. Then our eyes met.

Liam’s lips twitched.

I tried to hold it together, biting the inside of my cheek, but it was no use. The absurdity of it all—the awkwardness, the tension, the sheer insanity of the situation—hit me like a freight train.

Liam giggled.

And then I lost it.

We were laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe, clutching our sides as the ridiculousness of everything spilled out. For a few moments, all the anger, confusion, and frustration melted away, replaced by shared, helpless laughter.

Laughter still bubbled in my chest, but the absurdity of the moment faded, leaving a strange mix of emotions behind. I rubbed my palms over my face and let out a deep sigh. What the hell were we even doing here? The whole situation felt surreal—like we were the punchline to a joke I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand.

I reached out, instinctively taking Liam’s hand. He froze, his body going stiff as a board, but I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting it drop.

“Liam,” I murmured, looking him in the eye. “Whatever is going on, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

He blinked, his expression torn between gratitude and discomfort. His lips parted, but no words came out right away. After a moment, he looked down at his lap and cleared his throat.

“I lost my job, and it wasn’t my fault,” he rushed to explain, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “The CEO of SynergyCoin got busted for running a Ponzi scheme. The entire company imploded overnight. And now…” He hesitated, as if it hurt to say it out loud. “Now I think I’m having trouble finding another job because of the scandal. My name’s tied to it, even though I did nothing wrong.”

That hit me harder than I expected. Liam had always been so steady, so reliable. The idea of him struggling like this made me feel protective.

He kept going, his words spilling out in a rush. “I got a tiny severance, and I’m on unemployment, but it’s barely enough to cover my rent. And now that Bradley’s gone…” His voice cracked slightly, and he shook his head. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

I stared at him for a moment, processing everything. Then I held out my hand.

“Let me see your phone again.”

Liam hesitated, his cheeks flushing pink, but after a moment, he handed it to me. His fingers brushed mine briefly, and that tiny touch sent a spark up my arm.

I ignored it, focusing instead on the screen. The FantasyFans app was already open, and I scrolled through the pictures. My chest tightened as image after image of Liam filled the screen. Some were suggestive, some downright explicit, but they all had one thing in common: Liam looked… good. Too good.

My throat felt dry, and I cleared it as I quickly handed the phone back.

“So, uh…” I coughed, trying to push the heat out of my face. “How much money are you making from this… endeavor?”

Liam tapped at his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration. For a moment, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Holy shit,” he said, a mix of disbelief and excitement in his voice. “I have 92 subscribers now. Let me check the total…” His voice trailed off as his thumb swiped across the screen. His eyes widened, and he let out a small laugh of astonishment. “Eleven hundred dollars. So far. And it’s only been a couple of weeks.”

My eyebrows shot up, and I leaned back in my chair, trying to process what he’d just said. Eleven hundred bucks in two weeks. My brain couldn’t help doing the math. There was definitely potential here.

“How much is Laura making on FantasyFans?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

Liam glanced at me, his cheeks turning pink again. “She says she’s hitting almost six figures a month.”

I blinked, struck dumb for a second. Six figures. Six. Freaking. Figures. Images of dollar signs practically flashed in my vision like one of those old cartoons. That kind of cash could solve so many of our problems. I pictured a new couch in the living room, a decent car, maybe even a vacation—hell, I’d never been farther than Florida.

But then, the memory of that muscle-bound guy on top of Liam shoved its way into my head, and the dollar signs faded fast. My stomach twisted into a knot. I couldn’t explain it, but the idea of Liam making videos with random dudes made my skin crawl. I told myself it was because I didn’t want him to get hurt—or to have sketchy strangers tromping through our apartment. Yeah, that was it.

“Why did you have that guy here? And the woman with the camera?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though my voice came out sharper than I’d intended.

Liam winced and looked away. “Laura told me I needed to… spice things up,” he admitted, his words slow and deliberate, like he hated saying them. “She said that videos of me, uh, playing with myself, would only take me so far. If I want my page to really take off, I need to make videos with other guys.” Liam lifted the can of beer to his lips and swallowed at least half the can at once.

The knot in my stomach tightened into something that felt dangerously close to anger. Other guys. More strangers pawing at him, touching him, filming him. I clenched my fists, trying to keep my cool.

And then it hit me like a lightning bolt.

“We could make videos together.”