Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Liam

T he next morning, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, scrubbing it over my face like I could somehow wash away the worry clinging to me. As I dried off, I caught my reflection in the mirror and forced a smile—the kind I used to flash when talking to Jack and Bradley about our futures, back when everything felt bright and full of possibility. But now, it looked thin and brittle, so I tried again, lifting the corners of my mouth, squinting a bit to make it seem more real. I told myself it’d get easier with practice. Another try, and I thought I’d nailed it. If I looked calm and put-together, maybe I’d start feeling that way too.

I thought back to yesterday, meeting Jack and Bradley at the subway and telling them I’d had a “great day” with a forced cheer I hoped they couldn’t see through. Lying to them felt awful, but until I lined up another job, I didn’t have a choice. I needed to keep smiling and keep pretending

In my room, I considered putting on the same suit I’d worn yesterday. It was clean enough, and it wasn’t like I’d be seeing clients or doing anything that required a fresh outfit. But I thought better of it and put on clean clothes instead, reminding myself that looking sharp was part of the whole charade.

When I went to the kitchen, Jack was there drinking coffee, scrolling through something on his phone. Bradley wandered in wearing pajamas, yawning as he announced, “Took a personal day. Figured I’d use the time to get the apartment ready for the party tomorrow.” Then he turned to us, eyebrows raised. “So, could you guys each give me a couple hundred bucks to help with party stuff?”

“Sure, no problem,” I muttered, doing my best to keep the wince off my face. Jack nodded absentmindedly, still focused on his phone.

A few minutes later, Jack and I left together, hurrying to the station to catch the train. For once, there were two seats next to each other, so we slid in side by side. I felt the solid warmth of Jack’s thigh pressed against mine, and I told myself not to get excited. We’d decided long ago to stay just friends—that friendships lasted, and romances didn’t. That was supposed to keep things simple.

As we settled in, I noticed the man across the aisle reading the Finance section of the New York Times. A headline caught my eye, bold and unmistakable: SynergyCoin Declares Bankruptcy as SEC Investigates Fraud. My stomach clenched, and I looked away quickly, praying Jack wouldn’t notice.

Desperate for a distraction, I turned to Jack and started babbling about the party. I must’ve sounded wired, jittery even, because Jack glanced over, raising an eyebrow.

“You okay?” he asked. “You sound like you drank an entire pot of coffee.”

“Just excited about the party,” I replied, forcing a laugh. “Whatever Bradley cooked up will be a blast.”

I spent a couple of hours at the coffee shop updating my LinkedIn profile, rewriting my resume, and firing off applications. I barely even noticed the noise of the place—the whirr of the espresso machine, the chatter of people who, unlike me, still had jobs. After a while, I closed my laptop with a sigh. Going back to the apartment felt like admitting defeat, but I couldn’t keep blowing money on coffee just to hang around in Manhattan. Not with Bradley asking for two hundred dollars for his damn party, and not when I didn’t have a steady paycheck anymore. I’d just ride back into Manhattan later so I could take the train home with Jack.

When I got off the subway at my station, I spotted Bradley across the street, laughing with some woman I didn’t recognize. I froze. Right. He’d taken the day off. I didn’t need him asking questions about why I was home early, so I ducked my head and power-walked toward our building, hoping he wouldn’t see me.

Inside, I hurried past Nessa and Dimitri, who were deep in some heated debate near the mailboxes. No way was I getting roped into that. I slipped into the elevator and rode it up to our floor, feeling that same heavy weight settle on my shoulders as I let myself into the apartment.

I hurried down the hallway to my room and shut my bedroom door behind me. Tossing my bag down, I immediately shed my suit and climbed into bed in just my boxers and stared at the ceiling. The reality of it all started sinking in, flooding me with shame. This was my first proper job, and I’d messed it up before it even got off the ground. What would Bradley think? And worse—what would Jack think? I’d always admired his confidence, his drive. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me as some kind of screw-up.

I pulled my laptop onto my lap and started combing through more job sites, but everything just looked like a blur of requirements I didn’t meet or companies that wouldn’t pay nearly enough to survive in New York. My mind drifted back to this morning, when Jack’s leg had pressed against mine on the train. It wasn’t the first time we’d been that close, but today it had hit me harder. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish we had something more.

But we’d both agreed a long time ago—friends were all we’d ever be. Besides, Jack was the one constant I had, and I couldn’t mess that up, not now, not when I was barely holding it together.

Sighing, I did what I always did when I was alone and frustrated. I typed in the familiar URL for FantasyFans, and as soon as the homepage loaded, I felt a strange mix of comfort and relief. Leaning back, I told myself I’d just take a few minutes, just enough to clear my head. I needed something to take the edge off, even if it was just temporary.

I stared at the screen, my pulse quickening as I took in the image of the man who resembled Jack. The guy in the preview photo was ruggedly handsome, with a square jawline and thick hair that mirrored my best friend’s. The faint buzz of distraction gave way to a more intense hum as I clicked onto his page and started the first video.

The man leaned back, and the sizeable bulge in his pants caught my eye. My mouth went dry as I watched him, and I couldn’t help but imagine it was Jack lying there, waiting for me. The woman who appeared on the screen was attractive, but I barely registered her presence. My focus was entirely on the man who looked so much like my best friend.

I leaned in closer, taking in every detail of his appearance. The way he moved, the way he held himself, even his expression was like Jack’s. My heart raced as I felt a twinge of guilt for watching, but the thought of my best friend was too powerful to ignore. I reached down and adjusted myself, feeling the familiar ache of arousal building in my groin.

As the video continued, the man began to touch himself, and my hand followed suit. I gripped myself tightly, stroking in time with the man on the screen. The sight of his hand moving up and down his hard length was intoxicating, and I felt my arousal growing with each passing moment.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen as the woman touched the man, running her fingers over his chest and down to his cock. I watched, mesmerized, as she took him in her mouth, feeling a surge of desire wash over me. My hand moved faster, my strokes becoming more urgent as I imagined it was Jack’s cock in my mouth instead.

The guilt I felt earlier was now replaced by a fierce hunger. I wanted this man who looked so much like Jack, wanted to feel him inside me, to hear him moan my name as he came. I stroked myself harder, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I felt the familiar tingling sensation building in my balls.

I couldn’t hold back any longer, and with a final, desperate thrust, I came, my release spilling out onto my hand and stomach. I sat there for a moment, catching my breath, my body still tingling with pleasure. The man on the screen was still going, the woman now straddling him as they fucked with wild abandon. But I’d satisfied my own needs, at least for now.

When it was over, I shut the laptop and pushed it aside. Pressing my palms over my face, I felt the heat radiating from my cheeks. I sat there, catching my breath, half-wondering what the hell was wrong with me. But then, as I sat in the quiet, I muttered to myself, “It’s not really Jack. How could this possibly hurt our friendship?”