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

  Thankfully, though, Shane shook his head. “No. He gets a little angry sometimes, but we always work it out. I know he… well, he says he loves me. I really don’t think he’d ever hurt me. Not, you know, physically.”

  Brandon wasn’t at all sure that that was true, but he pressed his lips together, keeping his opinion to himself. Shane had never been willing to speak as openly about his relationship as he was now, not since the first time Brandon had made the mistake of giving Shane his true opinion about Peter. Right now, though, all that really mattered was getting Shane to leave.

  They could debate Peter’s failings later.

  “Let’s pack your things,” Brandon said. “Please, Shane. If he really loves you—” the words tasted sour in his mouth. He didn’t believe them for a moment, “—then he’ll forgive you. But if you decide not to come back, won’t it be easier to do this now, while he’s out of town?”

  Shane hesitated for so long that Brandon worried he wasn’t going to agree, but then—finally—he nodded.

  “Thanks, Brandon.” Shane hugged him, holding on tight and feeding all of the hidden longings that Brandon had never had an opportunity to confess. “You really are my best friend, you know. I know you just worked a long shift, and I really appreciate what you’re trying to do.”

  “What I am doing,” Brandon said, stepping back before he did something stupid, like tell Shane how he really felt.

  Or kiss him.

  Definitely not what Shane needed right now, especially when he’d already said he wasn’t quite ready to give up on Peter yet.

  “What we’re doing,” Brandon added. “Together.”

  And—even though by the time they’d managed to load up both their vehicles, track down Brandon’s brother for the use of his truck, head back to pick up the last load of Shane’s things and get him settled in at Brandon’s apartment, Brandon had officially been awake for more than twenty-four hours—he didn’t feel tired at all. In fact, he felt better than he had in two years, because that’s what they were…

  Together.

  And, maybe, if fate smiled on him and he stayed patient just a little longer and found a way to make the magic happen, Brandon would finally get a chance to see if he could make that a permanent condition.

  Chapter 4

  Shane

  The smell of bacon woke Shane from an uneasy sleep. He rolled over and dug his face into the pillow, the unfamiliar softness of it disorienting him for a moment.

  Then he remembered… he was at Brandon’s.

  The awareness brought him fully awake, and he shot upright, blinking in the late-morning light that had snuck in through the half-open blinds of Brandon’s guest room. Despite his exhaustion, getting to sleep had been difficult. His night had been troubled by dreams that, now, he couldn’t quite remember the details of. He knew that all of them had starred Peter, though, and as the enormity of what he’d done hit him, he started to feel a little queasy.

  Thank God Brandon hadn’t let him go to a hotel. Despite Shane’s nerves, Brandon’s home felt like a safe haven. Just knowing that his best friend was somewhere nearby made Shane feel relaxed and protected in a way that he hadn’t in far, far too long.

  As if the thought had conjured Brandon out of thin air, a knock sounded on the door, softly enough that it wouldn’t have woken him if he’d still been sleeping.

  “Brandon?” Shane asked, pulling the warm comforter around him. He felt stupid as soon as the word left his mouth, though. Who else would it be?

  “Hey, Shane,” Brandon said, pushing the door open and leaning against the doorjamb with a smile. “Did I wake you?”

  “No,” Shane said, his eyes darting to the old alarm clock radio on the bedside table. It was eleven o’clock, and he was immediately swamped with a surge of guilt. He threw the covers off, shivering at the sudden change of temperature, and made himself get out of the cozy bed. “Sorry for sleeping so late.”

  “Sorry?” Brandon repeated, furrowing his brow. His eyes darted over Shane’s body and then away, the tips of his ears going red. “I normally get home around six in the morning, Shane. Eleven doesn’t feel early to me. Besides, you don’t have anywhere to be today, right?”

  Shane flushed with embarrassment at the weird way Brandon had looked at him, and he glanced down at himself, feeling oddly self-conscious.

  Not something he was used to feeling around his best friend.

  Was it because he was wearing the cheesy, bright red “pull down in case of emergency” boxers that Peter had always hated? He’d donned them defiantly the night before as sleepwear, but now he wondered if Brandon thought…

  Well, he wasn’t sure what Brandon might think, actually.

  They’d always had an easygoing friendship that included joking around about almost everything, but that playfulness had never extended to anything even remotely suggestive. At first, because Shane hadn’t wanted to make his supposedly straight friend uncomfortable, and then, after Brandon had come out, Shane had just gotten into the habit of ignoring the whole subject of Brandon’s sudden gayness out of self-preservation.

  “Shane?” Brandon prompted, raising a questioning eyebrow.

  “Um, no,” Shane said, realizing Brandon had actually asked him something. “I don’t have any plans.”

  Although maybe what he really should plan on doing was finally getting over the unreasonable hurt feelings he’d never been able to shake; the ones that stemmed from Brandon’s failure to share the news about his sexuality for so many years. Not to mention his completely unjustified jealousy about the fact that, once Brandon finally had come out, his taste in men so clearly ran toward everything Shane wasn’t.

  Not that it mattered, of course.

  But still… he crossed his arms over his chest, achingly aware of just how much skinnier he was than all the bulky, gym-rat types that he’d watched Brandon hook up with over the years. And wasn’t that the bitch of the whole thing? Shane had actually liked it better back when Brandon had been “straight,” because, then, he’d been totally out of reach.

  Which had been so, so much easier to swallow than simply not interested.

  “You cold?” Brandon asked, frowning. “I can turn up the heat. You know I’ve always run a bit warm.”

  Shane laughed, forcing himself to drop his arms and relax already. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

  He was being utterly ridiculous. When Brandon finally had come out to him, Shane had been dating Greg. And when that had ended, there had been Vincent.

  And then Peter.

  And now… well, now, Shane still needed to deal with the end of his relationship with Peter. The bLoved quiz had been spot on. Peter was controlling and manipulative, and Shane felt like twenty types of a fool for having been so blind to it; for letting things get so bad. But—even knowing how Peter always twisted his words until Shane sometimes forgot which way was up—he also felt guilty for walking out without even trying to salvage what they’d built over their two years together.

  “Stop it, Shane,” Brandon said firmly, even though the smile he gave him was all sorts of soft and sweet and other things that Shane was not going to let himself pretend meant more than they did.

  Of course Brandon loved him. They were best friends. The end.

  “Stop what?” he asked, crossing the room and pulling a t-shirt out of the duffel bag he’d dumped on top of the dresser the night before. He slipped it on, refusing to feel self-conscious as he rummaged around for a pair of jeans and finished dressing.

  “I can read you like a book, Shane Allen,” Brandon said. “You were worried about Peter, but you did the right thing. It will be okay. Trust me. I’m not going to let him do anything to you.”

  Shane glanced over at his phone, resting silently on the bedside table. The fact that Peter hadn’t called or texted since his 3:00 a.m. wake-up call the day before was a testament to just how pissed he was. Shane knew his patterns well; the worse Shane’s transgression was, the longer the silent treat
ment generally lasted.

  And the bigger the price to pay once it ended.

  “Stop, Shane,” Brandon said, crossing the room in two strides and gripping his shoulders. “Trust me. It will be okay. I’ve got your favorite breakfast almost ready, I don’t have to report to the station for another ten hours, and we’re together. This is already, by definition, a good day.”

  Shane’s eyes welled up, and he tried to look away, embarrassed, but Brandon didn’t let him.

  “Let’s also make it the last day Peter makes you cry,” he said, his eyes going hard despite the soft touch he used to wipe Shane’s cheeks. “Come eat. You want fried eggs with broken yolks?”

  Shane grinned. He really hadn’t seen enough of Brandon over the last couple of years, and it touched him to know that Brandon hadn’t forgotten some of the little things, like the way he liked his eggs.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Brandon smiled back, dropping his hands and taking a step toward the door. “Two eggs?”

  Shane’s stomach rumbled. “What else are you making?” he asked, following Brandon toward the kitchen.

  “Everything,” Brandon said, grinning over his shoulder. “I’ve got bacon, sausage, and toast. Fried potatoes. I figured I’d do a full breakfast to get us off to a good start on the last day of the year, and to welcome you to my apartment. I can also do corned beef hash if you want, instead of sausage.”

  Shane blinked as his eyes started to sting again. Brandon was right, and Shane was not going to let Peter make him cry anymore.

  Even though rationally, he knew that having a choice about what to eat for breakfast wasn’t that big a deal, Brandon’s easy consideration drove home all the more just how messed up things with Peter had become. Over the last year of their relationship, Peter had been monitoring what Shane ate to make sure his meals were properly balanced and that he didn’t put on unhealthy weight. If he’d known about the wine Shane had drunk when he’d had friends over…

  Shane shook his head. Things that Peter had convinced him were reasonable suddenly felt crazy now that he had a little space. He was a grown man, why had he ever let Peter decide what he could and couldn’t eat or drink?

  This morning, he was going to eat bacon and sausage, and enjoy every minute of it.

  “I’ll take the sausage, and just one egg,” he said to Brandon, feeling stupidly daring and free. “Do you have any orange juice?”

  “With you over? Of course,” Brandon said, grinning as he pulled the carton of eggs from the fridge and proceeded to cook them as promised. “I ran out and picked some up earlier this morning. No pulp, right?”

  “No pulp.”

  Peter had preferred pulp, so guess what they’d always had in the fridge? But enough about Peter. He was with Brandon now. Well, not with-with Brandon, but he was definitely going to enjoy this morning with him.

  “I’ll put coffee on, too, if you want? Coffee and OJ?”

  Shane grinned. It sounded like heaven. “No cream—”

  “Three sugars. I’ve got you.” Brandon jerked his chin toward a cupboard as he wrangled the eggs. “Get down some plates?”

  Shane’s grin widened until his cheeks hurt. A tiny part of him felt like he should be agonizing a bit more about the end of a relationship he’d devoted so much of himself to before he let himself feel so happy, but that part was quickly lost in the pleasure of being in his favorite person’s company… the taste of perfectly crisp bacon… the easy familiarity he and Brandon slipped into. It felt like coming home.

  It felt perfect.

  Shane stepped out of the shower to the sound of heavy pounding coming from the direction of Brandon’s front door. His heart instantly flew into his throat, and he barely bothered to towel off, throwing on his clothes and almost slipping in his haste as he yanked the bathroom door open to the sound of voices.

  “Where is he?”

  Peter.

  Shane’s footsteps slowed despite his best intentions. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting off panic. Why had he actually believed Peter would just let him walk away?

  “He’s with me,” came Brandon’s firm reply. “He needs space.”

  “He belongs with me,” Peter snarled, the characteristic cool anger Shane was used to hearing in his voice replaced by a raging heat that made him shiver.

  He forced his feet to move. He wasn’t sure how Peter had figured out where he was, but he needed to face him on his own, not hide behind Brandon’s strength.

  The low rumble of Brandon’s voice answering Peter carried down the hall. It was pitched too low for Shane to make out the words, and it sounded much too calm, something Shane knew would drive Peter crazy.

  “What goes on behind closed doors isn’t of any concern to you,” came Peter’s hissing reply to whatever Brandon had said. “I know why you’re keeping him here, Brandon Byrne, but you’re nothing to him. I know you’ve always wanted him. You’re trying to get him into bed, but it isn’t going to work. Shane is mine. He knows better than to stray, which is the only reason I’m not going to kill you for keeping him with you overnight. But now? He comes home where he belongs.”

  Peter never spoke to Shane in that tone of voice. Yes, he got angry whenever Shane failed to meet his expectations, but when he chastised Shane about those transgressions, it was always in a cold, clinical way that made Shane feel choked by guilt and always ended with him apologizing to Peter and vowing to do better. Now, though, hearing Peter’s voice sputter with rage and the outrageous accusations he was throwing at Brandon, Shane was struck by just how crazy his boyfriend sounded.

  He straightened his shoulders. Ex-boyfriend. Now that he’d left, Shane wasn’t going back.

  Even if he’d once thought he loved Peter, what he was hearing now didn’t sound like the kind of crazy you laughed about over drinks with your friends while sharing horrible ex stories…. Peter sounded certifiably insane.

  What was it the bLoved quiz had said? Two words: restraining order.

  Shane rounded the corner, and Peter’s attention instantly locked onto him. His fair skin was flushed with anger, his russet-colored hair uncharacteristically messy. Brandon stood in front of him, blocking the door with his broad shoulders and rigid posture, but Peter looked past him as if he didn’t exist. His lips spread in a wide smile, just for Shane, and his entire demeanor softened as his eyes roamed hungrily over Shane’s face.

  Shane felt a chill prickle the back of his neck, wondering how he ever could have mistaken that expression for love.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not mad, baby,” Peter cooed. “I know it’s not your fault, but you need to come home now. You need me, and you know I love you. Don’t let Brandon fill your head with lies. We’re meant for each other. You know nothing can come between us.”

  But Brandon was between them, thank God, and he didn’t give Shane a chance to answer.

  “You need to leave, Peter. Now.”

  Peter’s eyes hardened, and he looked back at Brandon with loathing on his face. “You set this up, didn’t you?” He shook his hand in front of Brandon’s face, a crumpled piece of paper held tightly in his fist.

  Shane’s stomach clenched. He could see the bLoved logo on it. He’d forgotten to remove the quiz results from the printer. He hadn’t even mentioned them to Brandon.

  Peter’s attention shifted back to him. “You can’t believe this garbage, baby,” he said, his tone changing back to a gentle sing-song, as if there was some kind of crazy-switch inside him that let him turn it on and off at will. “This so-called quiz is slander, just jealous people trying to tear us apart. Do you know how easy it is to hack into a site like that and fix the results? All it takes is a few clicks. Brandon set this up because he wants you. Everyone wants you, but you know you’re mine, don’t you, baby?”

  Shane braced a hand against the wall. Whenever Peter got angry, Shane always lost his tongue. He’d learned early in their relationship that speaking up just made things worse, so he’d gotten into the habit of k
eeping quiet to smooth over the inevitable bumps in the road.

  This time, though, he forced himself to speak up.

  “Brandon had nothing to do with that quiz, Peter,” he said, his voice sounding raspy from the constriction in his throat. “Whoever made the bLoved site knows what works and what doesn’t in relationships, and those results are right. They sound like us. Like you. I’m sorry. I know you love me—”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Brandon interrupted without turning to face Shane. He was still staring Peter down, even though Peter had eyes only for Shane. “This isn’t love, Shane.”

  Peter’s face turned a disturbing shade of red. Almost purple. “You think it’s a coincidence that you just happen to find this quiz while I’m not around to keep an eye on you?” he asked Shane, continuing to ignore Brandon. His voice started to rise at an alarming rate. Shane could see a vein throb in his temple as he crumpled the quiz results into something unrecognizable. “You think this wasn’t planned? That your ‘good guy’ cop friend just happens to be there to steal you away while you’re vulnerable from reading these lies?”

  “I’m going to tell you to leave one more time,” Brandon said. “And then I’m going to make you.”

  Peter’s eyes went cold and flat as he turned on Brandon. “Don’t think I don’t know that you planned this, Brandon Byrne.” The hot emotion of the moment before was replaced by an eerie calm that was far scarier. “You’ve been biding your time, but Shane will see through your lies. He loves me, and I love him, and no matter how you try to keep us apart, we’ll be together soon. And if you soil him with your touch, if you try to claim him for your own, make no mistake, I will kill you.”

  Brandon moved, but even before he’d closed the short distance between them, Peter was gone.

  Shane was shaking.

  “Oh my God, what am I going to do?” he asked as Brandon closed the door. “He’s gone off the deep end.”

  “You’ve already done it, honey,” Brandon said, turning and drawing Shane into his arms and murmuring reassuring words to calm him down. “You’ve left him. Don’t worry. Don’t ever worry. You know I’ll always be here for you. I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s over now.”