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

  No.

  By the time Shane got to the end of the test, his chest felt constricted. He couldn’t quite remember how long he’d been trying to justify Peter’s behavior to himself and pushing aside his own growing dissatisfaction with the relationship, but actually seeing the way Peter treated him spelled out like that didn’t make him feel loved… no matter how many times Peter told him he was. If he were honest, it made him feel a little trapped.

  Shane answered the last question and clicked the button to load the quiz’s results.

  Compatibility rate: 0%

  bLoved recommends: OH, HELL NO! Run away as fast as you can! Far, far away! This loser isn’t just no good for you, he’s no good for anyone. Seriously, dude, just don’t. (And if you already have, get out before it’s too late.) Change your phone number and lose his. If that fails? Two words: restraining order.

  Shane blinked, the constriction in his chest moving up into his throat until it felt like he might choke. He drained the last of the wine from his glass, trying to ease the pressure inside him.

  It didn’t help.

  All the little things that bothered him about Peter didn’t seem so little anymore when they were summarized in front of him in black and white. Could he really have been blind enough to stay in a relationship that was as bad as this bLoved site made it sound? Peter wanted to marry him, and, ever since finding that ring receipt, Shane had been bracing himself to make it work. After all, he knew that all Peter needed from him was his love and loyalty… and a little patience… and some cooperation… and respect… and—

  Ugh. It was exhausting.

  Every day, Shane did his best to keep their relationship on an even keel, but nothing he did ever seemed to measure up. When Peter was home, Shane always felt like he was walking on eggshells, and even when Peter was gone, like now, every decision he made was colored by WWPW. What Would Peter Want.

  The kind of relaxed happiness that Shane craved felt like a carrot that Peter always dangled just out of his reach, right on the other side of Peter’s criticism and all his “loving” suggestions about how Shane needed to change.

  Shane blinked, realizing his eyes had started to blur from staring too hard at the screen.

  …get out before it’s too late… get out before it’s too late… get out before it’s too late…

  He didn’t want to marry Peter.

  Shane hadn’t let himself say that before, not even in the privacy of his own mind, but it was true. He’d invested two years of his life in the relationship and the admission made him feel like a failure… but it eased the pressure in his chest.

  It also made him feel a little sick.

  Peter wasn’t the type to accept a “no” graciously. And if Peter kicked him out, where would he go?

  Shane clicked the “X” in the corner of the screen.

  Print before closing?

  Shane shook his head in denial, but then clicked the Yes button despite himself.

  He suddenly felt exhausted, and he pushed away from the desk as the pages of the quiz with their damning results started to fill the printer tray. He clicked off the light, not bothering to look at them again. He wasn’t going to put his head in the sand, but he was going to grant himself a night of rest before he made any decisions.

  Firmly shoving stress-inducing thoughts aside, he embraced his inner Scarlet O’Hara, heading for bed.

  He’d think about it tomorrow.

  Chapter 3

  Brandon

  Brandon yawned as he navigated the sparse Saturday morning traffic, running his hands over the steering wheel as he blinked in an effort to stay awake. He generally didn’t have a problem working the graveyard shift—he’d always been a bit of a night owl—but with New Year’s Eve falling on a Sunday this year, it felt like all of Chicago had claimed the entire weekend to celebrate.

  The Friday night he’d just survived had been chaos. Traffic accidents, drunk drivers, domestic disputes and violence, random shootings… thankfully, his part in it was over for the moment. Missing Shane’s get-together had been almost physically painful, but there was no way he could have gotten out of working on one of the busiest weekends of the year. He had a day off now, though—well, a night, technically—so he’d have plenty of time to recover before working New Year’s Eve itself.

  Brandon’s phone—resting in the vent grip while it was plugged in to charge—suddenly lit up, blaring Shane’s ringtone. Brandon frowned. It wasn’t quite six in the morning yet; Shane never got up this early.

  He swiped the screen to answer, hitting the speaker option so he could stay hands-free for driving.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Shane’s laughter sounded strained. “What? I can’t call just to say hi to my bestie?”

  “Not at six in the morning. I can’t remember a single time during the last ten years that you’ve been up this early unless forced, Shane. Unless you haven’t gone to bed yet? Are the guys still over from last night?”

  “No.” Shane did the strained laugh again, adding to Brandon’s concern. “Peter doesn’t want anyone to stay over, you know that. They all left around midnight.”

  “Okay, so what’s up, Shane?” Brandon asked, still frowning.

  There was silence on the other end of the phone, making him worry that he’d come across too tersely.

  There had been a time when they’d told each other everything—well, almost everything—but Shane dating Peter had definitely put a damper on that aspect of their relationship. Still, Brandon’s Spidey-senses were tingling with the certainty that this wasn’t just a social call, and he forced himself to relax his grip on the steering wheel as he waited for Shane to answer. He’d been told more than once that he had the patience of a saint, but listening to Shane’s silence was making him feel anything but patient.

  After about point-five seconds of it, he gave up on waiting and went with a new plan.

  “Don’t tell me you’re calling to invite me over for breakfast,” he said, hoping to tease Shane into opening up. “Let me guess, you want me to pick up some mocha lattes and a couple of chocolate croissants…”

  Shane laughed. “Gross.”

  Brandon grinned. It was good to know that some things never changed. How anyone could not adore the taste of chocolate was beyond him, but Shane had never liked it.

  “So, what’s up?” he asked, the more natural sound of Shane’s laughter this time easing some of his tension.

  “Um, I was just calling to ask a favor. I’ve got some orders on Etsy to fulfill, and I was wondering if you could log into my account and check on the details for me?”

  “You have orders that have to go out at six in the morning on a Saturday?” Brandon asked, not buying it. It wasn’t like Shane to beat around the bush. At least, it had never used to be.

  “Um, I just want to get a start on the day, you know? And—” Shane’s voice cracked, and Brandon’s heart lurched. He threw his turn signal on, taking the exit for Shane’s place before he passed it.

  Something wasn’t right.

  “Your internet down, Shane?”

  Shane cleared his throat, not answering. “You’re driving, aren’t you? Jeez, sorry, Brandon. I wasn’t thinking. I know you don’t like to take calls on the road.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “Even hands-free, it’s a distraction,” Shane lectured, tossing Brandon’s oft-repeated words back at him.

  Brandon grinned. At least he knew Shane listened to him about some things. “It’s not a problem, because I just parked the car.”

  “You’re home already?”

  “Nope. I’m here.”

  Brandon unbuckled, grabbing his phone as he exited the vehicle. He was glad to see that Peter’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Shane had mentioned that his boyfriend would be out of town for his get-together the night before, but not when he’d be back. The few times they’d met in person, it had instantly been clear that Peter didn’t like Brandon any more than Brandon li
ked Peter. Not that Brandon would have let that stop him from checking in on Shane if it did, in fact, turn out that Shane needed him for more than some made-up internet excuse right now.

  “Here?” Shane repeated incredulously. Brandon heard movement on the other end of the phone, and then Shane’s front door swung open.

  It had been far too long since Brandon had seen him.

  Shane looked incredible. Well, technically, maybe “awful” was a better description, but it was Shane, and Brandon’s heart did the slow roll in his chest that it always did when he saw his best friend. Magic.

  Shane promptly burst into tears.

  Brandon shoved his phone into his pocket, crossing the space between them in a heartbeat.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling Shane into his arms. Something quite obviously was wrong—Shane wasn’t prone to easy tears—but the minute he got his arms around him, Brandon’s senses went into overload.

  For a split-second, he forgot all about the reason he was actually holding Shane.

  Shane felt perfect in his arms. His smell was as familiar as breathing. Hints of juniper and rosemary from the soap he’d always used, mixed with an intoxicating scent that Brandon could only identify as Shane. He fit against Brandon like he belonged there, as if they were two pieces of one whole, and the way Shane instantly melted against him—as if he were coming home—made every cell of Brandon’s body feel complete.

  He loved him.

  Loved him.

  Loved… no. Brandon came to his senses. He loosened his arms, tipping Shane’s head up and wiping his cheeks. Shane was going to marry Peter, and Brandon was going to take Jacob Hansen out and do his damnedest to fall out of love with his best friend.

  “What can I do?” he asked, biting back an endearment that he’d never had the right to use.

  Shane stepped back, breaking their contact. “Sorry,” he said, drying the last of his tears on his sleeve. “Oh, God, Brandon, you must think I’m ridiculous, breaking down on you like that.”

  “Of course I don’t,” Brandon said, following Shane into the too-tidy house. Not that Shane had ever been a slob, but the place was kind of scary-spotless. There wasn’t a single sign that Shane had had guests the night before, not even a coaster was out of place. A comment Shane had once made about Peter’s “standards” flashed through Brandon’s mind. He frowned. “Tell me what’s wrong, Shane.”

  Shane sighed, flopping down on the sofa and gesturing toward an antiquated looking desktop computer in the corner of the living room. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “So I got up to finish checking my orders on Etsy and… the internet didn’t work.”

  Brandon nodded to show he was listening, even though he was sure that an internet outage wasn’t the true cause of Shane’s distress. He wanted to go sit next to Shane and pull him back into his arms, but instead, he took the uncomfortable looking office chair in front of the computer desk, swiveling it to face his friend.

  “And…?” he finally prompted when Shane failed to follow up with any additional details. Brandon softened his voice. “Please tell me, Shane. I’m sure we can make it right if you’ll just let me help.”

  Shane’s eyes welled up again, but he nodded. “Um, the thing is, Peter didn’t know I was having people over last night. You know how he feels about having guests in his house after that one time he was robbed.”

  Brandon bit his tongue. He didn’t buy Peter’s story about being robbed one bit. There was certainly no record of it ever being reported… he’d checked. In fact, even though he knew Shane would be pissed if he ever found out, Brandon had called in a few favors at the station and had a background check run on Peter after Shane had moved in with him.

  It had come up clean, but still, the guy made Brandon’s skin crawl.

  And, sure, Brandon had always been head over heels for Shane and he wouldn’t pretend part of his dislike wasn’t fueled by pure jealousy, but it wasn’t just that. Peter triggered every one of Brandon’s cop instincts, and it was maddening that he couldn’t find any concrete evidence to back up his dislike.

  “Is Peter still out of town?”

  Shane nodded. “But, last night, Mel was showing me this site. bLoved?”

  “I’ve heard of it.” Brandon had even thought about using it, but—much like dating anyone who wasn’t Shane—it had just seemed pointless.

  “Well, after everyone left, I accidentally ended up taking this quiz thing on the site. Just for fun, or… honestly, I don’t even know why I started it, but Mel had left the site open, and…” Shane’s voice trailed off, and he looked away for a moment, swallowing. “Anyway, so Peter called and woke me up at three o’clock this morning. When he’s really mad, he gets quiet. His voice goes all cold and sort of, I don’t know, serial killer or something.”

  Shane laughed nervously, but Brandon didn’t laugh along with him.

  He waited.

  Shane cleared his throat. “I guess he has some kind of tracker program installed on the computer so that he can make sure we’re not being, um, hacked or something? I don’t know. I didn’t realize he had it on there. But apparently it sends all the websites I visit to his phone so he can make sure they’re legit. And when he saw that I went on a dating site…”

  “He turned your internet service off?” Brandon asked quietly, rage building inside of him.

  “Yeah. He was understandably angry. He said we’d talk about what happened when he gets home, but in the meantime, he, um, he turned off the data on my phone, too. My service is on his cell plan, but… I really need to make sure I stay up to date with my Etsy business so that I maintain my responsive seller reputation, and—”

  Shane broke off, letting out a shuddering breath.

  Brandon pressed his lips together so hard they hurt, but he knew if he opened his mouth, he might say something irreparable if Shane was still in the mood to defend Peter’s actions. Actions which, as far as Brandon was concerned, there was no acceptable excuse for. Peter’s level of control and manipulation crossed way over the line into emotional abuse, and it killed him to see what it had done to the formerly confident, outgoing, amazing man Shane had always been.

  Fuck it. He couldn’t hold his tongue. “Shane—”

  Shane held up a hand, straightening his spine with a look of determination that gave Brandon hope.

  “I know, Brandon. It’s… I can’t live this way. I want to leave. This is bullshit. I know I owe him a conversation about it, but I don’t want to be here when Peter gets back.”

  Shane didn’t owe Peter a damn thing, as far as Brandon was concerned, but he wasn’t going to argue the point. He was on his feet before he knew it, grinning like a fool despite his best efforts not to.

  Shane wanted to leave.

  Brandon wasn’t entirely sure if Shane was talking about just getting some space while Peter cooled down, or ending the relationship completely, but he was one hundred percent on board with any plan that included Shane leaving the man whom he’d watched slowly isolate Shane from everyone who loved him over the last two years.

  The man who’d put uncertainty and self-doubt into Shane’s eyes for the first time in… ever.

  “Okay. Let’s go,” Brandon said, rubbing his hands together briskly and suddenly not feeling tired at all. He pulled Shane up off the sofa. “We can load up some of your stuff into the back of the squad car, and fit some more into your trunk. I’ll borrow Matt’s truck later today, and we can come back for the rest then.”

  “You think I should take all my stuff?” Shane asked, going pale. “Peter will be pissed—”

  “Isn’t he already?” Brandon asked rhetorically, not wanting to see Shane lose the momentum of his decision. “You’ve said yourself that you still have most of your belongings in storage—” more of Peter’s controlling bullshit, in Brandon’s opinion, “—so why not clear the decks while you take some time to figure out what you want to do next?”

  Shane gave a shaky laugh. “Um, I was just going to get
a hotel room somewhere and, I don’t know, take some time to think things through? I mean, I was prepared to marry Peter. I don’t like how he’s treating me right now, but I’m still not quite sure I’m ready to throw away our whole relationship. Besides, my storage unit is already pretty full, and I don’t know that I really want to be carting around everything I own.”

  Brandon’s heart sank a little at the words, but he still considered any form of leaving a step in the right direction. Hopefully, once Shane got away from Peter, he’d see things differently.

  Brandon was going to do everything in his power to stack the deck in favor of that outcome.

  “Okay, let’s think this through,” he said calmly. “First, you’re not going to a hotel. Don’t be silly.”

  “You know that Peter really doesn’t want me to spend time alone with you, Brandon—”

  “Fuck Peter,” Brandon snapped, the uncharacteristic profanity slipping out before he could stop it.

  Shane’s eyes widened, and Brandon made himself take a breath so he could continue more calmly.

  “I’m your goddamn best friend, Shane,” he said, not all that much calmer after all. “We’ve known each other for practically half our lives. If Peter has a problem with that, he can take it up with me, but ten minutes ago you were crying your eyes out. I’m not going to leave you when you’re upset, and I’m not going to let you go hole up in a hotel all on your own when I have a perfectly good guest room available.”

  Shane’s eyes welled up again, but he shook his head. “Brandon, I really appreciate it. You know I do. But Peter would kill me if he found out I’d spent the night with another man—”

  “No, Shane, he won’t,” Brandon said flatly. “This controlling behavior of his has been going on for way too long, and if you’re actually scared of him, then that’s all the more reason to get out. Has he ever hurt you?”

  Brandon died a little inside while he waited for the answer to that. He’d stayed out of Shane’s relationship because Shane had insisted, but if that had meant that he’d been blind to abuse that he could have stopped, he’d never forgive himself.