And butter would never melt in her mouth.
He hated that phrase, and yet it was the perfect description for Madison’s mother.
“I just want you to be happy,” he said.
Madison looked at him, frowning. “I could say the same about you. Because you’re not happy, Lincoln. And we both know why.”
She only knew part of it. His cousin was the one person in the world that knew Lincoln loved his best friend. But he couldn’t talk about that. Couldn’t do anything about it. Because he needed to face Ethan soon. The same with Holland. And he had absolutely no idea what he was going to say. All he knew was that he needed to face the part of his family that was still in Boulder and help his cousin. That was his mission for the day. He just really wished he didn’t have to be hungover when he did so.
But maybe once he got through this, once he remembered what true family was and the fact that his extended family was not it—other than Madison—maybe he’d remember what really mattered.
And perhaps then he’d be able to create again.
If not, then he knew he had to at least figure out what to do about Ethan. And Holland.
Because they were only part of his painter’s block. He’d have to face the rest eventually.
And eventually was coming far too soon for his liking.
Chapter 7
After Ethan had woken up that morning with his head and heart hurting, he knew from the first moment he opened his eyes that he was alone in the house.
He had shoved on his pajamas, stumbled out to the living room, and saw the couch completely empty. The single blanket Lincoln must have used was folded and placed right on the cushions.
There wasn’t a note, didn’t need to be one. He knew he would see Lincoln later. And either they would talk this thing out, or pretend it never happened.
Knowing his best friend, it would probably be the latter.
Then, he had gone into the kitchen, needing coffee before he faced the idea that Holland would likely be gone too, and saw the note pinned to the fridge.
Had to head home. The shop needs me. Thank you for last night. –Holland.
She had thanked him. For the games? For the food and booze? Or for all the orgasms?
He didn’t have the answers and was truly afraid that if he tried to find them, he would just end up hurt.
He hadn’t known what he wanted when he woke up. Had he wanted them there? Maybe it would have been better so they could have hashed it out.
But the problem was that he didn’t have the answers. He didn’t know what he wanted. So maybe having them gone was a good thing. Perhaps it was exactly what they needed. To have some space before they figured it all out.
Ethan didn’t have the answers. But he sure as hell needed to figure things out.
However, because he didn’t want to look at his house the way it was anymore, he quickly cleaned up all evidence of the night before. He was thankful that Lincoln and Holland had helped him at least put the food away last night before they went to bed. So, there wasn’t much to clean up.
He looked at the white scarf on his mantel and knew that it was Holland’s. It wasn’t cold enough for her to truly need it, but it had fit her look, made her look even sexier somehow.
But he didn’t know what to do about it, so he didn’t do anything. Instead, he left it where it was, as a reminder, and went to get ready for work.
An hour later, he sat at his computer, wondering what the hell he was going to do for the rest of the day. Oh, he had calculations to run, data to analyze and pore over. Considering that it was a Monday and should have been a normal day at work, everyone else was already in the office. Some people worked nights, and others worked weekends so they could have a few weekdays off. Sometimes, he did that, too. Having a Monday or Tuesday off was freeing. It allowed him to go to the grocery store or get other shit done. Because most everyone else was at work.
But even though he didn’t need to be here today since he’d put in the hours yesterday, he was working.
Because he had nothing else to do. And he was scared to return home to face the fact that he might have just lost his best friend because he had given in to temptation.
He now knew what it felt like to have Lincoln against him, his mouth on his, his dick in his hand.
He knew what it felt like to have Holland with him, as well.
It was like she completed them. Became a bridge between the two of them that wasn’t just a bridge. Because he had a feeling that if he were only with Holland, it would feel like Lincoln was missing. There were no substitutions, no second thoughts.
It had worked last night between the three of them.
And maybe it was because he already knew of a lasting ménage in his life thanks to his cousin. He had seen it work, even with all the communication hurdles and society issues.
Maybe that’s why Ethan wanted this one to work now.
Did he? Is that really what he wanted? For them to, somehow, take the next steps and pretend that it wasn’t just a night of dreaming and obsession?
He didn’t know, but he needed to figure it out. And soon.
There was only so much holding back he could do. Especially when it came to his best friend.
“You’re sure looking contemplative over there,” Julia said from his side. He looked over at his coworker.
“What do you mean?” Ethan asked, even though he knew the answer.
“You look sad. And a little hungover. Which you never do. Rough night?”
Ethan rubbed his hand over his face and growled. “I’m fine. I worked yesterday, I probably didn’t need to come in today.”
“But you love work as much as I do. You work longer hours than anyone else I know, except for maybe me.”
He looked over at Julia and grinned. “Well, we are workaholics.”
“That is true. Anyway, I wanted to come over to let you know that somebody ran too many calculations and filled up the server. It’s going to take a little while for the rest of our stuff to run.”
Ethan frowned.
“Who?” he asked.
“Who do you think?”
He sighed. “The boss man?”
Julia nodded. “Yep. It’s like he sometimes forgets that even though his calculations are important, there is only so much space for everybody to get theirs done.”
“How much you want to bet I’ll be the one who has to redo everything when he fucks it up?”
“Well, I’m not going to bet on that because if you don’t do it, I’ll have to, and I’m not in the mood.”
“Sounds about right. So, I guess that means none of us gets to have our results anytime soon.”
“Nope. But, sadly, you should be used to it by now. That’s how things operate here.”
Ethan groaned. “I really shouldn’t have come in to work.”
“Well, considering you’re not actually getting paid for it, probably not.”
He sighed. “We should go home.”
“I am. I worked a double on Saturday. I just came in really quick to check on what I did so I don’t waste so much time tomorrow.”
“Same here, pretty much.”
Julia grinned. “I swear to God, sometimes it’s like wrangling toddlers in here instead of grown men and women who have numerous PhDs, MDs, and master’s degrees to their names.”
He snorted. “Well, at least it’s not academia. I’m heading home to pretend that everything’s okay.”
Julia reached out and put her hand on his arm. She didn’t touch him often—if ever—so it surprised him. He looked down, and she blushed, pulling her hand away.
“Sorry,” she said quickly.
“No, it’s fine. What’s up?”
“Just know that even though we’re not the best of friends, I’m here if you need me. Okay?”
“Thanks.” He smiled and let out a deep breath, meeting her gaze. “Seriously. Thanks.”
“Anytime. Now, go get more coffee or caffeine in your system. Or m
aybe a greasy taco. That will help.”
He shuddered.
“I don’t know how people can do that much grease when it comes to hangover food.”
“Don’t knock it. It’s a time-honored tradition.”
“Not for me.”
He packed up his things and headed out to his car in the parking lot, figuring he might as well head home and get some stuff done around his house. Maybe even talk with his family.
He hadn’t had dinner with them in a couple of weeks. Considering that he usually did as often as possible, that was saying something. But everybody was busy, and he knew there was a Montgomery family dinner coming up.
He sent off a quick text to the family group, just saying good morning and hoping everyone was okay. They all replied back that they were working, and hoped he had a good day, too.
It was Bristol who texted separately.
Bristol: You okay?
He knew he probably should have sent a private message. It was best to sound a little less depressed in his texts.
Ethan: I’m fine. Just figured it had been a while since we all got together.
Bristol: We can make it happen. It has been a while. I miss your face.
Ethan: I miss your face too, brat.
Bristol: Okay, maybe I don’t miss you as much as I miss Aaron.
Ethan: You can’t see me, but I’m totally flipping you off right now.
Bristol: There are emojis for that, you idiot.
Ethan: You’re so sweet.
Bristol: I know. Now I’ve got to get back to work. Practice never waits for anyone. Love you.
Ethan: I love you, too.
Aaron texted next.
Aaron: Everything okay?
Ethan snorted. Apparently, checking in on his family on a Monday afternoon meant that he was losing his mind. But at least his family cared. It was better than most of Lincoln’s family. Oh, Lincoln’s parents were amazing, they just didn’t live near them anymore and had their own lives now. Ethan wasn’t even going to get started on Lincoln’s extended family.
Ethan made his way home, and as he pulled in, he noticed that Lincoln’s car was already there.
Oh. Well.
Today was going to suck.
More so than it already did.
Before he got out, though, Liam texted.
Liam: Just checking in.
Ethan was never going to text his family on a Monday again. Just because he might need help, didn’t mean he actually wanted it.
And wasn’t that going to be the tagline of his book if he ever wrote one?
Ethan: I’m fine. Just thought I’d say hi since it’s been a while.
Liam: If you need anything, I’m here. Arden is, too. We’re here.
We. Hell, Liam was a we now. Including the dog that he and Arden now had together.
Ethan was happy for Liam. He truly was, he just really wished he could figure out his damn life.
Ethan: Love you guys. Talk to you soon.
And then he slid his phone into his pocket, knowing his mom and dad would probably text next.
He loved his family more than anything, but sometimes…they saw too much.
He looked at Lincoln’s car parked next to his and sighed.
Better get this over with.
He walked into the house, closing the door behind him, and inhaled the smell of garlic. He held back a groan.
“I thought you’d be home,” Lincoln said from the kitchen, sautéing something in a pan.
Ethan set his stuff in the bowl next to the door and walked over to the kitchen where his best friend stood cooking chicken and garlic pasta as if nothing had happened. As if everything were fine and normal.
What the hell?
“I went in today since I had nothing else to do.”
“I see that. I did the same. Tried to work anyway. Things didn’t work out.”
“Oh.”
“Then I went to lunch with Madison and her parents and ended up not eating because all they wanted to do was talk about how much of a low-life I am. Same as Madison. So, we had a mimosa, and then Madison and I left. But we tried. That should count for something. At least for a while.”
Ethan cursed under his breath. “I forgot that you had that lunch.”
Lincoln looked over his shoulder. Ethan noticed he looked tired, his eyes full of something he couldn’t read. And he hated that he couldn’t read his best friend. He’d always been able to before. Had that changed?
“I forgot, too. Until Madison showed up. After Damien left, that is.”
Irrational jealousy spiraled through Ethan. He tried his best to push it back. But it was hard to do when Damien was such a sore subject for him. And not just because of the jealousy. Because Damien treated Lincoln like trash, like a cash pony only. And Ethan hated it.
“Oh?” he asked.
“Oh.” Lincoln rolled his eyes. “You’re right, he’s an asshole. He’s crossed some lines. I’m working on it, okay?”
Surprised, Ethan took a few steps forward. “What do you mean?”
“Meaning, I took my key back. So, you are officially the only person with a key to my place.”
Ethan ignored the way that knowledge felt in his chest. No need to think too much about it. They were best friends. Only friends. Right? Clearly, that’s how Lincoln wanted to play it.
“Anyway, Damien is still my agent, but hopefully those boundaries will start to work.” He shrugged. “If not…I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”
Ethan moved forward and reached out to put his hand on Lincoln’s shoulder but stopped. He didn’t know if he was allowed to touch Lincoln anymore. And that killed him. “Okay. If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”
“I know.” Lincoln turned off the burner and then looked directly into Ethan’s eyes. “I know.”
Ethan swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say. He could only come up with one thing. “So, we’re not going to talk about it?”
Lincoln’s face went blank. “Talk about what?”
“I don’t know, maybe how I had your dick in my hand? Or that you were touching my dick, too?”
Lincoln closed his eyes, muttered a curse under his breath, and took a step away. He started to pace the kitchen while Ethan just stared at him, wondering if he had just lost everything. He felt as if someone had ripped out his heart, slowly massaging it before threatening to twist it and break it into a thousand pieces before shoving it back into the empty cavity that was his chest.
He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, he had no idea what the fuck he was doing.
“Do you want the truth?”
No. But he couldn’t say that. Instead, he just clenched his jaw and nodded. “I need to know.”
“Fine. I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, but I’m an idiot about it. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
It was as if everything had changed, as if he had heard the words spoken but they weren’t really there. Instead, Ethan took a few steps forward, just close enough that he could reach out and touch Lincoln’s face. Lincoln didn’t move away. The stubble of his unshaven beard scraped across Ethan’s palm, and he wanted more. “Okay.”
Lincoln frowned. “Okay? That’s all you have to say.”
“I don’t know what else to say. Only the fact that I want you, too. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well, we did something last night, didn’t we?”
“But we weren’t alone. What about Holland?” Ethan asked, worried about the answer.
He continued. “I’ve wanted you, too. But you’re my best friend, Lincoln. I can’t fix this if we fuck it up.”
“What if we do? Though I think we’re already past that. And it took booze to make it happen.”
“And…Holland? What about her?” Ethan asked again, his heart in his throat.
Lincoln rubbed a hand over his face and stepped away. It felt like a chasm had opened up between them.
Neither knew what to say. It just hurt.
“I don’t know what to do. I want her, too.”
“So do I.” Ethan laughed, but it was hollow. “I guess we figure this out. My cousin did. I mean, she has two husbands. Maybe we can figure out how to make it work.”
“Maybe.”
“I don’t want it to just be words, though. Because last night? Best night of my fucking life. But I don’t want to risk you. And I don’t want to risk what we have with Holland either because we don’t talk it out.”
“Then I guess we’d better do better about that,” Lincoln said wryly.
“I haven’t been good about that.”
“I know. But I’m no better. Maybe Holland will be good for both of us.”
Lincoln nodded, but before he said anything else, Ethan leaned in and brushed his lips softly against his friend’s.
Lincoln gasped and then deepened the kiss. There was no booze, no worries—at least not right now. It was just them. Only them. Ethan groaned, wanting more.
“We really going to do this?” Lincoln asked, surprise in his tone.
Considering how taken aback Ethan was right then, he didn’t blame the other man. “I think we are. But you have to tell me what you want. You have to talk to me. If it’s too much, or if it’s not enough, I need to know. Because I can’t lose you. And I don’t want to hurt Holland. I want her to be a part of this.”
“And she will be. She was last night. And she’s always with us. But for right now? You’re the one in my arms.” Lincoln said the words, but Ethan agreed. They leaned forward and kissed again.
“Tomorrow we talk with Holland,” Ethan whispered.
“But right now, right now, I think we should let the dinner get cold.”
Ethan groaned, wrapping his arms around Lincoln’s waist as Lincoln slid his hands through Ethan’s hair.
He groaned and then gasped as Lincoln tugged.
“I thought you said you didn’t like doing this in the kitchen,” Ethan said, a smile on his face.
Sated in Ink: A Montgomery Ink: Boulder Novel Page 8