Be Loved (At Last, The Beloved Series Book 3) Read online

  “We’d better get busy making the magic happen,” Shane joked, giving Brandon’s hand on his wrist a pointed look.

  Brandon’s ears got hot again, and he let go, nodding. Shane laughed, the sound piercing Brandon’s chest and leaving his lungs choking for air, and then he turned and headed up to the front of the room for the dissection kit, leaving Brandon frozen at the lab bench.

  There was something about Shane that was different from everyone else, something that drew Brandon in and got into his head. This was what Hayden and Zak got all weird about girls over. None of the other guys he knew ever sneaked second glances in gym class, or seemed to think twice about locker room showers. If any of them were attracted to each other, they never let it show. All the fuss about girls, and who had the best ass, or the best boobs, or the most stunning curves… Brandon could kind of see it, but it just didn’t do anything for him. Even with the girls he’d gone out with, he’d never felt the same urgent rush to be close to them, to touch them, to watch them the way, right at that very moment, he was watching Shane walk away—watching Shane’s ass as he walked away.

  Brandon spun around, catching his breath as he stifled the insane urge to laugh out loud. So maybe he was an ass man, after all. He didn’t know if it was love or lust, but some kind of magic definitely happened when Shane was around. And that meant…

  “Ready?” Shane asked cheerfully, plopping down their dogfish shark on the lab bench and hip-bumping Brandon to move aside and make room for him.

  Brandon nodded, a full-body shiver going through him… and then he grinned, a heaviness he hadn’t even realized was there lifting inside of him.

  He was gay.

  Brandon was gay.

  And maybe it would be okay. Sure, his parents would probably flip out, and he couldn’t let on once he enlisted after graduation, but Shane made it look sort of easy, and maybe Brandon could ask him out. Not just for some Nintendo gaming, but on a date, and then—

  “Oh my God.” Shane laughed, pointing at their specimen. “I forgot that you can get pregnant sharks. My boyfriend was telling me about it, and how weird it looks. He did this dissection last year.”

  Brandon’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “Your boyfriend?”

  “Yeah?” Shane furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side. “I joined an LGBT group for teens after I moved here—figured I had to make friends somehow, you know? Brad and I got together right away, he’s a freshman at UIC.”

  “Oh,” Brandon said, hating the way Shane’s gorgeous face had lit up at the mention of Brad.

  “Some things are just meant to be, you know?” Shane grinned, pushing his sleeves up as he reached for their dissection kit. “I had to break up with my boyfriend back in California when we moved. I mean, I loved him, but it just didn’t make sense, you know? And then the first week here, bam! I meet Brad. Like fate.”

  “Yeah.” Brandon murmured, picking at the loose thread on his sleeve again. “Totally sounds like fate.”

  Shane rattled on about Brad while they worked, funny and upbeat and still making all that magic happen, even though none of it was intended for Brandon, after all.

  “You okay?” Shane asked after a bit, hip-bumping Brandon again. “You’re not squeamish with this stuff, are you?”

  Brandon laughed. Not at all. He’d always preferred hands-on work, and he was wasting time being pouty and ridiculous when he could be having fun. He stuffed his little lapse of sanity back into a more manageable ball that he could tuck away and ignore, and grinned over at Shane. No way could Brandon afford to be gay, and since Shane wasn’t available anyway, it was all for the best.

  “Nope,” he said, peeling back the little shark’s skin and prodding one of the gray organs with the tip of his scalpel. “The only thing that makes me squeamish is losing at Star Fox, so it’s a good thing I never do.”

  Shane laughed, making Brandon’s heart stutter in his chest, and gave him a smile that lit up his whole face. “Is that a challenge?”

  “You know it,” Brandon said, his sanity almost lapsing again.

  “Challenge accepted.”

  “Oh, you’re mine now, Shane Allen,” Brandon warned, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

  And even if it was only true in terms of Star Fox, maybe someday in the future, after Brandon got out of the Army and Shane had kicked this Brad to the curb, someday when things were different… maybe Brandon would get a chance to claim a share of Shane’s magic for himself, too.

  Chapter 1

  Brandon

  Brandon’s phone chimed with Shane’s ringtone just as he pulled into his parents’ driveway, the timing saving him from the moral dilemma of having to choose between breaking the law he’d sworn to uphold or ignoring his best friend’s call. And the fact that he’d also arrived just thirty seconds after his brother, Gabe?

  That just made the timing all the sweeter.

  He grinned despite his exhaustion, parking his police cruiser directly behind Gabe’s rental car to block him in. Brandon would be failing at his brotherly duty if he passed on the opportunity to give him a hard time.

  “’Sup, Shane?” he said into the phone, settling back in the seat as he waited for Gabe to notice his predicament.

  “Hey,” Shane said, sounding like he was smiling. “You busy?”

  Hearing Shane’s voice lifted Brandon’s heart, just like it always did. The familiar sensation kept the torch he’d been carrying for his best friend burning brightly, but luckily Gabe was around to offer some distraction from that particular hopeless predicament. Brandon met his brother’s eyes in the rental car’s rearview mirror, wedging the phone between his shoulder and neck so he could lift both hands to mime innocence when Gabe’s glare promised imminent retribution.

  “Not busy,” he said to Shane, his grin growing as he squinted to try to catch sight of the steam coming out of his brother’s ears. “Just about to head in for brunch at Mom and Dad’s.”

  “Nice,” Shane said. “Tell them hi from me.”

  “You should tell them yourself one of these days.”

  Brandon had definitely been going through some Shane-withdrawal pangs recently, but his years of practice in the art of ignoring it paid off, making him pretty sure that he’d managed to make the comment sound casual. Missing Shane was partly his own fault, anyway. Shane had a tendency to date douchebags, and while there were some things Brandon was good at pretending, getting along with his best friend’s boyfriends had never been one of them.

  Unfortunately, a side effect of that was not getting to see as much of Shane as he would have liked.

  A sharp rap on Brandon’s window announced the end of Gabe’s patience, but when Brandon reached for the door handle, his brother just smirked and leaned against the door in a blatant attempt to keep Brandon locked in. Brandon rolled his eyes, lowering the window and pointing toward the phone. He covered the mouthpiece, giving Gabe a stern look.

  “Important police business,” he lied. “Back off.”

  Gabe’s smirk turned into a snort-laugh. “Hi, Shane,” he said loudly, leaning in so he could direct the comment at Brandon’s phone. “Hang up on my brother and get your ass over here. We miss you.”

  Shane laughed on the other end of the phone, but the sound was interrupted by a split-second of silence. Shane was receiving another call.

  “Shoot, Peter’s trying to reach me,” Shane said, confirming it. “I didn’t realize Gabe was home on leave, though. Say hi, okay?”

  “Sure,” Brandon said, frowning. There was something about Peter, Shane’s current boyfriend, that set Brandon’s teeth on edge even more so than the losers Shane had dated in the past had. Shane had been with Peter for two years, and during that time Brandon had bitten his tongue until it bled to keep from interfering in what Shane had assured him early in the relationship was none of his business.

  Instead of giving in to his inner caveman the way a part of him wanted to, Brandon had sat back and watched with an aching heart as
Shane’s natural vibrancy had steadily dimmed, biding his time for any opening that would let him show Shane that Peter was no good for him. So far, that opportunity had yet to come, and it had gotten to the point where every mention of Peter’s name made Brandon want to hit something.

  Preferably something named Peter.

  He let out a slow breath, reminding himself that whatever he thought of Peter, nothing was worth burning bridges with Shane over.

  “Everything okay, Shane?” Brandon asked, ignoring his brother’s smug expression at the confirmation that it was, in fact, Shane on the other end of the phone.

  “Yeah, I just wanted to ask you—” Shane’s voice was cut off by the call-interrupt again. “Shoot, let me call you back, okay? Peter doesn’t like it if I keep him waiting.”

  “Sure,” Brandon said. “You know I’m always here if you need me.”

  “You know I’m always here if you need me,” Gabe repeated in a mocking falsetto as the call ended, stepping away from the car to let Brandon get out. “Dude, how long are you gonna pretend you and Shane are just friends? I knew it was him on the phone because of the dopey-ass expression on your face. The way he swivels your stick, I can’t believe I didn’t catch on to the gay years ago.”

  “We are just friends,” Brandon said, slamming the cruiser’s door harder than was strictly necessary.

  Gabe snorted, following him around to the rear of the car. Brandon popped the trunk open, grabbing out the bags of belated Christmas gifts he’d brought and shoving one of them into Gabe’s hands. He typically worked the night shift for the Chicago Police Department, and, between his lack of seniority and the holidays, he’d ended up pulling a double and missing out on the family’s annual Christmas celebration the day before.

  “Only ’cause you haven’t made a move yet, Bran-o.”

  “And just when would I have done that?” Brandon snapped, the patience he was typically known for running a bit thin due to the combined factors of no sleep and Peter’s unwelcome interruption to his Shane-time. “During the three-point-five seconds that Shane has actually been between boyfriends over the last, oh, ten years?”

  “He is a bit of a serial monogamist, isn’t he?” Gabe asked rhetorically. “What, is the guy allergic to being single?”

  “Some things just aren’t meant to be,” Brandon said, repeating the empty words he kept trying and failing to convince himself were true so he could get over it already.

  Once, he’d been sure that ending up with Shane was his destiny, that it was just a matter of time, but every year that passed with Shane still dating someone who wasn’t Brandon made that seem less and less likely. Not to mention the fact that Shane had never shown an ounce of romantic interest in him, neither before Brandon had come out, nor after.

  Gabe shot him an uncharacteristically compassionate look, changing the subject. “You look like shit, baby brother. Chicago’s finest overworking you, or are you just hamming it up so Mom will spend the whole afternoon fussing over you?”

  “I won’t be the one she’s fussing over if you keep asking for soap like that,” Brandon said, referring to their mother’s oft-used childhood threat to wash out their mouths at any hint of profanity. A threat which, nine times out of ten, had been directed at Gabe. Neither Brandon nor their oldest brother, Matt, had been the type to give her any trouble, but Gabe had more than made up for the other two Byrne boys.

  Gabe laughed, not bothering to deny it. “Hey, if Mom gives me the stink eye, you know I’ll just deflect with the gay card.” He shifted the bag of gifts to his other hand and threw an arm around Brandon’s shoulder. “Thanks for that, bro. I only wish you’d dropped your bomb back when we were kids. Can you imagine how much trouble I would have gotten out of if you hadn’t hidden your fondness for dick for so many years? I’m sorry I broke the window, Mom, but hey, don’t forget that Brandon wants you to ask Mrs. Gardiner for her son’s phone number…”

  Brandon pressed his lips together to try and keep from laughing. Gabe had been the first one in his family he’d come out to, and even now, four years later, he could still remember the roiling terror in his gut as he’d confessed his big secret to his smart-aleck of a brother. The Byrne family was big on things like duty and respect and “good, old-fashioned Midwest values,” as their father liked to put it. Values which most definitely did not include a Byrne turning out gay… or any other form of coloring outside the conservative lines that had defined Brandon’s childhood sense of what was and was not acceptable.

  Gabe had always been the one in their family to push the envelope, and, after Brandon had finally come out to a few close friends during his stint in the Army, he’d figured that if anyone back home was going to accept the truth about him, it would be Gabe. Brandon had been right, but, in typical Gabe-fashion, Gabe had made him sweat a little before assuring him that it didn’t change a thing as far as he was concerned.

  Well, nothing except for opening up a whole new realm of jokes he got to make at Brandon’s expense.

  “How long are you going to milk the fact that I’m gay for your personal benefit, Gabe?” Brandon asked, shaking his head as they made their way to the front door. It had snowed overnight, and was threatening to do it again. Tired or not, he’d have to come back out and shovel the walk before leaving.

  Well, either that or bait one of his brothers into doing it.

  “Dude, do you even have to ask?” Gabe grinned with his perpetual good cheer. “That would be approximately forever, thank you very much. You turning gay is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s like a permanent get-out-of-jail-free card whenever Mom and Dad get on my case. Why would I ever give that up?”

  Brandon laughed despite himself, elbowing Gabe hard in the ribs. “Asshole. I didn’t turn gay, Gabe—”

  Gabe cut him off. “Ooooh, was that an actual curse word, Branny? You must’ve started hanging out with the wrong kind of people,” he teased, rubbing his side. “And you know I know that. Chill out. I get it, but I’m still not gonna give up my free pass.”

  Brandon grinned as they reached the door, the move quickly turning into a yawn as his body rebelled against his effort to stay awake. He’d never admit it to Gabe, of course, but he kind of appreciated the way his brother’s irreverent support had forced their parents to quit trying to brush his sexuality under the rug. Despite the fact that out-and-proud Shane had won them over back in high school, at first, neither one had wanted to hear that their son was something other than what they’d expected.

  No, you’re not, had been his father’s response, ticking off his “proof” on each finger: you’re a soldier, a Byrne and, a Cubs fan. Brandon’s mother had just looked concerned, as if he’d mentioned having a bad head cold, or that he’d forgotten to file his taxes. I know your military service included a lot of time around other men, honey, and I can see how that may have been… confusing. Especially when you’ve had a friend as, um, outgoing as Shane is. But did you know that Lilian’s niece, Sarah, just moved back to town? If you’re having trouble meeting girls, I can get her number for you…

  Both of Brandon’s brothers had had his back from day one—Gabe’s support flippant but uncompromising and his oldest brother Matt’s steady and unconditional—and his parents had eventually come around, too. His father would still prefer to avoid the subject if possible, but, after a couple of years of trying to set him up with “nice girls” just to see if he was absolutely sure, his mother had given up and done a complete one-eighty.

  “My boys!” Beverly Byrne exclaimed, throwing the door open and pulling Brandon and Gabe into a warm hug. She pushed them away almost as fast as she’d grabbed them, though, making a show of peering over their shoulders. “No guests?” she asked reproachfully, ushering them into the house. “One of these days, you two are going to stop torturing me and settle down with a nice girl and a nice boy and give me some grandbabies.”

  “Didn’t Matt and Jenna already take care of that, Mom?” Brandon asked rhetorica
lly. Matt had married his high school sweetheart as soon as he’d completed the traditional Byrne stint in the military, and the two of them had promptly bought a house in the suburbs and popped out the requisite two-point-five children.

  “I don’t think Brandon is gonna be able to make any babies for you, Ma, even if he does find himself a nice boy,” Gabe snickered, making air quotes. “I hate to break it to you, but I hear gay sex involves—”

  Beverly slapped a hand over Gabe’s mouth, turning red. “Gabriel Jonathan Byrne you watch your mouth! You boys are my babies, and your s-e-x lives are not a subject I need to hear details about—ever—do you understand, young man?”

  “What does s-e-x spell, Nana?” Chrissy Byrne asked, coming up behind her grandmother.

  Beverly turned even redder, pinning Gabe with a look that she’d spent over three decades perfecting. Chrissy—Matt and Jenna’s official “oops baby”—was dragging Mr. Giggles behind her, the ratty, six-year-old teddy bear that Brandon had given her at birth. She was also quite obviously practicing the stealth techniques that Gabe had been training her on over the holidays.

  Brandon made a valiant effort not to laugh at the look on his mother’s face. Gabe’s “training” with Chrissy had already been the source of almost as much trouble as Gabe used to get into himself. Gabe was the only Byrne who’d decided to make a career out of his military service, and both their parents and their brother Matt had been jokingly vocal about counting down the days until his leave was over.

  Chrissy was clearly pleased with her success at startling her grandmother. She grinned up at Brandon and Gabe, showing off a newly missing front tooth. “Hi Uncle B, Uncle G.”

  Brandon ruffled her hair, grinning down at her. “Hey there, Little C.”

  “What’s up, point five?” Gabe asked, dodging his mother’s stink eye like a champ and fist-bumping Chrissy and Mr. Giggles.

  “We’ve been waiting on you,” Chrissy answered, her eyes glued to the gift bags. “Mama said Uncle B had more prezzies for us, and you promised to help me practice breaking a wrist hold, Uncle G, and I still want to know what s-e-x spells—”