Griff and I were busy anyway. We worked our asses off, pooled our money, built everything together. Accountants told us it wasn’t smart, that we should keep our shit more separate than we do, but we knew what we were doing. Griff and I were partners. We were brothers. Whatever we built together, we would enjoy together.
I steal a look over at him now, trying to imagine how I’d feel in his place. I can’t even put myself there, though. Moira would never do something like this. She puts the needs of others ahead of her own, and we’re happy, anyway.
I wish I could just clone her and give one to Griff; she could fix him right up after Ashley’s betrayal slices his heart open.
2
Griff
Sebastian is pissed off tonight, and I don’t know why.
He’s not a short-tempered man to begin with and he usually enjoys when we all go out like this together.
Not tonight. Every time Ashley speaks, he looks at her like her voice offends him. He’s not even trying to hide it. When he wants to, he can execute a pretty good poker face. I mean, I know him too well, so I normally see through it, but even Moira can tell he’s pissy tonight. Her demeanor is dimmer. Ordinarily Moira sparkles likes a diamond, but tonight she’s more subdued, her troubled gaze drifting to Sebastian every few minutes.
They couldn’t possibly be having problems, could they? Problems are for mere mortals; they’re the golden couple. Ashley and I have problems; Moira and Sebastian still run late to date nights because she wants to worship his cock before they leave for dinner.
Lucky fucking bastard.
I can’t remember the last time my cock went anywhere near Ashley’s mouth. We’ve only had sex once in the last six fucking weeks. I know, because I bought a fresh pack of condoms and there’s only one missing. Every time I look at the box in my bedside stand, it aggravates me. Other married guys say shit like that is normal, but then there’s Sebastian with the wife who still lusts for him and the relationship that disgusts the rest of us with how fucking perfect it is.
Not that I don’t want Seb to be happy. Of course I do. He’s had a shit life, and I’m glad he found what he has with Moira.
It would just be kinda nice if I had it, too.
Thinking about it makes me glum. My gaze drifts to Moira and I feel myself needing alcohol. Our waiter seems to have disappeared.
I push back my chair, pulling the cloth napkin from my lap and dropping it on the table. “I’m gonna go see if I can get us some more drinks.”
Ashley doesn’t look up from her phone.
Moira’s look of concern drifts to me, then her lips thin with determination and she pushes back her own chair. Seb looks up at her, but she leaves him there and follows me.
Aw, Christ.
“What is up with you two tonight?” she demands, speeding up to match my strides. I ignore her, so she places a hand on my arm, trying to win my attention.
Of course it fucking works. She’s hard enough to ignore when she’s not touching you.
God, I need whiskey. “Nothing’s up,” I tell her, cutting in front of her and heading for the bar.
She leans on the bar top right next to me and raises her dark eyebrows. “You are so full of shit. You both are. Sebastian was off earlier too, but no one wants to tell me anything.”
“Maybe that’s because it’s none of your business,” I offer, lightly. “You ever think of that?”
“If it involves my husband, it is most certainly my business.”
That shouldn’t drain the last ray of lightness out of me, but it does. I wish Ashley cared enough to ask me what’s wrong when I’m in a shitty mood, let alone fish around and try to drag it out of my best friend.
“Are you and Ashley fighting again?” she asks, suddenly. “You guys seem a little off tonight, too.”
“We’re not fighting, she’s just pouting.”
“Why is she pouting?”
“She didn’t want to come,” I mutter.
The bartender comes over, looking at me expectantly.