“I told you, you owe me a favor.”
Priest’s eyes narrowed, and where that look had once aroused Henri, now it just challenged him.
“This ought to be good,” Priest said. “I can only begin to guess what kind of ‘favor’ you think I owe you. By the way, if you’re going to be in contact with one of my husbands, I want to know about it.”
A smirk tugged at the corners of Henri’s lips. “Why? Scared I might corrupt the little princess?”
Priest frowned, an expression Henri was positive he was born with. “It wouldn’t be too far of a stretch, now would it? Correct me if I’m wrong, but did I or did I not get called by a cop yesterday to see if you had stolen my car?”
Henri knew he should let it go, just move on to what he was really there for. But there was too much history, too much water under that bridge to ignore, and before he could help it, he heard himself say, “If I remember correctly, that kind of thing used to turn you on.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, my mistake. It all depends on who is stealing your car. I forgot.” Even as the words were leaving his mouth, Henri told himself to get to the point and get the fuck out. But it was too late now, and for the first time since he’d stepped into the office, he saw Priest’s mask slip.
“Henri.” Priest took a step forward. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You’ve never lied to me before, so don’t start now.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then what was that all about?”
Henri clenched his teeth, trying to keep the recent resurgence of old emotions at bay. But before he could stop himself, he exploded. “Are you really so fucking stupid that you don’t know?”
Priest reared back as though Henri had punched him, and then he slowly crossed his arms over his chest. “Not as far as I know. So if you have something to say to me, why don’t you say it before I lose my temper?”
Henri willed himself to calm down. He wasn’t there to fight. But the second he’d stepped through that door and seen Priest standing there, everything he’d been feeling in those moments before the wedding bubbled up inside him and spewed out in a toxic rage.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married again?”
Priest’s eyes widened. It was extremely rare to catch Priest off guard, but Henri had managed it. After a moment or two, when Priest still hadn’t answered, Henri took another step forward and said, “Do you really think so little of me that you couldn’t bother to tell me yourself?”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Do I? How? How the fuck am I supposed to know that, Joel?” Henri ran a hand through his hair. “If it hadn’t been for Robbie, I wouldn’t have had a clue what was going on. So don’t stand there and tell me that you give a shit, because I don’t fucking believe you.”
Priest’s cheeks flushed even as his jaw bunched, and then he turned away and walked back to his desk. When Priest braced his fingers on the wood and hung his head, Henri had the insane urge to go and comfort him.
But no, fuck that. It wasn’t his place—not anymore.
“I wanted to tell you.” Priest’s voice was eerily quiet, and Henri braced himself for what he knew would follow. “But I knew how much it hurt you the first time that I—”
“Pussied out?”
Priest whirled around, ready to tell Henri to go fuck himself, no doubt, and the hurt and anger swirling in those grey eyes matched the emotions now roiling through Henri.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Why not?” Henri said, now seething with annoyance. “It’s what we do best.”
“That’s not fair.”
“That’s the truth.” Henri spun away from Priest, no longer able to face him. “I swear to God, Joel. I get within five feet of you and I want to kill you.”
A long silence followed. “That’s why we don’t work.”
Henri glanced over his shoulder to see Priest’s earnest eyes on him, and the pain and regret he saw there mirrored what was going on inside him.
“I love you, you know that. But this, us? We don’t work,” Priest said, and that knife from two weeks ago—hell, from forever ago—twisted so deep inside Henri’s heart that it finally shoved all the way through. “You know that, Henri. I know you do.”
Henri swallowed back the denial that wanted to fly off his tongue.
“I didn’t come here for this,” Henri finally said, his voice flat now.
“That’s right. You said I owed you a favor.”
“You do.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because the night of your wedding, it wasn’t enough that you were occupied with two cocks of your own—you had to reach out and fuck with mine too.”
Priest screwed his nose up, confusion stamped all over his face.