“Out of my chair.”
“You know I’d never judge you.”
Evan sighed. “You haven’t yet.”
“Sex is sex. It’s all good if everyone’s consenting, right?”
“What are you getting at?”
“Are you sleeping with them both?”
“We’re not talking about this.”
“Why not? When have you ever kept anything from me?”
Since he went to university and started giving other men blow jobs. “I don’t tell you about my social life, not the way you think I do. You meet the guys I bring home, the people I have on my arm. But there’s—there are some things about my life, my queer life, that are none of your business. You’re my brother, not my confessor.”
Ty had the good grace to look appropriately contrite. “And I’m straight.”
“You’re pretty fucking straight. There are just some things I don’t want to explain to you.”
“Like dating a married couple.”
“I see what you’re trying to do there, and it’s not going to work.”
“Ev—”
“I’m their friend. I care for them both. And when they sort out their shit, I’ll be back to dating guys from the city. So whatever you think you see here, it’s not what you think. Do not get the rumour mill going.Ican survive that.Theycannot. Do you understand me?”
Ty frowned. “I do not gossip about you. Ever. That’s all Evie.”
“I’ll handle Evie.”
“Gently. She loves you.”
“She sure does.”
Which is how Evan ended up having a second breakfast that morning, with his high school girlfriend—at her house, for privacy’s sake.
“Long time no see,” she said as she cleared toddler toys out of the way so they could sit on the couch. “Everyone has been worried about you after the fire. We were all so glad it wasn’t worse.”
“Thanks.”
“We wanted to organize a fundraiser, but Beth stopped us.”
He had to give his ops director a raise. “She’s good.”
“She is.” Evie was watching him too carefully. “But I think she’s protecting you for another reason.”
“Nope. We’re not playing speculate on Evan’s love life.”
“Interesting that you knew where I was going there.”
He shook his head. “Evie, please. Let me have some privacy. I know that I don’t always ask for that, I know that I’ve put myself out there in the past, but right now—call it the fire, call it the summer of gay men being prickly, I don’t care. Kill any rumour that you hear about me.”
She frowned.
“What?”
