Ryan averted his gaze for a moment, putting his bottle aside. “Jamie—”
“You know I’m right,” Jamie said with a small smile. “And Dad is right: some things are just impossible. We must do what we must.”
“Fuck your dad.”
“No, thanks. I’m not into that kind of thing.” Jamie giggled at his own joke, then started laughing, but soon the sharp, hysterical edge to his giggles became painful to listen.
Ryan clenched his jaw. It wasn’t a good idea to comfort him while Jamie was so emotionally compromised already; he knew that. But his heart didn’t agree. Jamie needed him, more than ever, and that brought out his every protective instinct—and where Jamie was concerned, Ryan had too many of them.
He’d always known that his affection for Jamie was a little weird, a little too much, a little too possessive and protective. Even when he’d had nothing, he wanted to give Jamie everything, addicted to the feeling of taking care of him. For all the ways Ryan had admired Hannah for being independent and refusing to belong to anyone but herself, with Jamie it was the opposite: Ryan fucking loved being needed by him. And now, against his better judgment, his every instinct was wired to do whatever it took to make Jamie feel better, even though he knew that, in the long run, his interference could—would—hurt Jamie more.
But fuck, he couldn’t watch this anymore.
Sighing, Ryan pulled Jamie close and wrapped him in his arms. Jamie’s laughter died. He made a soft sound and sagged against Ryan, practically melting into the embrace.
Ryan stared at the platinum blond head on his chest, acutely aware that this wasn’t the behavior of a friend. Jamie didn’t want his best mate right now; he wanted comfort from the person he was in love with. Jamie wanted love.
Ryan’s stomach tightened. He wondered once again whether it was emotional manipulation. Possibly. But he hated Jamie’s state of mind lately: dejected, almost depressed, and guilty for things Jamie had no control over. Fuck it. As long as it made Jamie feel better, he didn’t give a shit about the moral implications of it.
“Don’t be silly,” Ryan said, nuzzling into Jamie’s hair and kissing the top of his head. “You think we would have been us if you were like Tristan? I know he’s a pretty good bloke behind that prickly facade—he must be, or my brother wouldn’t be in love with him—but as far as I’m concerned, he has nothing on you.” He brushed his lips against Jamie’s temple. “No one does. Don’t you know how much I fucking adore you?”
“Ryan,” Jamie murmured, squirming against his lips but not pulling away. “I know what you’re trying to do. Don’t.”
“Yes, I am trying to make you feel better,” Ryan said, his voice hard yet honest. “But you know I’m not lying. For fuck’s sake, I broke it off with my girlfriend for you.”
Jamie winced. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Yes,” Ryan said, tipping Jamie’s face up to meet his eyes. “Because I think it proves something.”
His cheeks coloring, Jamie blinked rapidly and looked down at the bottle in his hand. He took a big gulp and pressed it against Ryan’s lips.
Ryan chuckled. “Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?” But he obliged and took a swig.
“You’ve uncovered my evil master plan,” Jamie said, bringing the bottle back to his mouth. His eyes were glistening as he took another sip. “What shall I do now?”
“To stop drinking would be a good start,” Ryan said, taking the bottle away from him and setting it aside. “You’re tipsy already.”
Jamie’s bottom lip poked out.
“Hasn’t your mother taught you how unbecoming pouting is?” Ryan said with a mocking smile and kissed the corner of Jamie’s pouting mouth.
“It’s really hard to keep delusions in check when you do stuff like this, you know,” Jamie said with a pinched look.
Shit.
Grimacing inwardly, Ryan smiled. “Is it really any stranger than the blowjobs you gave me?” The humor came out a little flat. This was still very shaky ground, a topic he wasn’t comfortable thinking about, much less discussing.
“Yes, actually,” Jamie said with a lopsided smile. “Because I could rationalize the blowjobs: I could tell myself you’re just a confused, kinky pervert. But this…it’s harder to rationalize it away.”
Ryan stared at him. He was right. Why was he kissing Jamie on the lips? Jamie’s mouth wasn’t actually his property, dammit.
“This whole thing has been such a mindfuck for me,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, Jamie.” He laid a hand on Jamie’s nape, brushing his neck with his thumb. “But I know one thing: I don’t want you to get hurt. And you will if you start thinking this is something it isn’t. You said you’d take whatever I was willing to give you, but you really shouldn’t. Don’t let me cross the line. I can’t give you what you want. You deserve better.”