“I’m not supposed to tell you. In fact, I’ve been specifically ordered to not say anything. But you two are being stubborn assholes, him with the not-talking-to-you and you with the refusing-to-admit-how-you-feel, and I’m tired of the drama. Seriously, you’re worse than high-school girls with a crush.”
“It’s not a crush.” What Justin meant as a denial took on a whole new meaning as he said it. He was telling the truth; it wasn’t. What he felt was so much more.
“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Emily vanished from the screen.
His curiosity grew, but short of shouting for her and hoping she hurried, he didn’t have much choice but to wait. Muffled voices carried through the speakers—Emily and Antonio—but Justin couldn’t make out the words.
“This is a bad idea.” Antonio must be within range of the microphone now.
“Sit,” Emily said.
Antonio dropped into the seat in front of the webcam, and Emily crouched next to him.
“Hey.” Antonio wore a grimace.
Justin didn’t care. This was better than he hoped for when he called. “Ditto. How are things? Work and such?”
“Good.” Antonio’s tone was flat. “Transition is taking time, but fortunately Dad thought all of this through before he decided to retire.”
Justin hid a wince at the implication. “Glad to hear it. You’re happy there, then?”
“Never been better. How’s Promiscuous Perks or whatever you’re calling it?”
“Great. Fantastic. Once I have a final contract in place for the engine, the school Susan teaches at is taking us live. It’ll need a new name before then.” Justin had to do some serious pleading with Mercy, to convince her helping him make the connection was a good idea. She was skeptical he could pull this off on his own. In fact, she was stunned he didn’t leave with Antonio. Told Justin she always figured he’d get it through his thick head one day.
He’d told her she was imagining things. Now, as he watched a low-res Antonio stream through his monitor, Justin wondered if he was the only person who hadn’t seen what was there. No. He missed his best friend and hated that things ended the way they did, but that was it.
Fuck.He didn’t even believe his own denials anymore.I miss you. I think I might love you, too.The confession stuck in his throat, and the realization squeezed like a fist around his heart. “Anyway. Good to see you. I’ll let you both get back to your night.”
“Yeah. Later.” Antonio left.
Emily slid back into the chair, shouting over her shoulder, “You’re both stubborn assholes.” She looked back at the screen. “That includes you.”
“I figured.” Justin tried to smile, but he wasn’t feeling it. “Will you be around tomorrow?”
“Always.”
They finished their conversation, and she logged off. Justin needed to get back to work, but he couldn’t unstick his thoughts. Seeing Antonio filled him with a need to saysomething, but anything Justin thought of felt rash. He didn’t want his thoughts to come off as impulsive or insincere.
His confusion was amplified by the situation. Was it really love, or did he just hate losing? And if it was real, the sentiment was too private to share with anyone except Antonio, but at the same time, Justin wanted Emily to hear. Not to hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted. He missed her as much, but at least she was still talking to him. He wanted to make sure she was okay with it. She and Antonio were obviously close. Justin couldn’t destroy whatever bond they built. And if he said the wrong thing to Antonio, he could lose them both forever.
The momentum Justin relied on was gone. He’d stalled in the middle of a quagmire of uncertainty and couldn’t see the path out. He dropped his head into his hands. Was this a flash-in-the-pan impulse?
No. Justin meant this. He felt it in every inch of his body. Antonio wasn’t just a friend or business partner. He was more. He’d always been more. ThatI love youhe refused to say was real. He couldn’t keep pretending otherwise.
But Emily... Justin needed her as well. The three of them made it work for fun. Could it be more? Did it even matter, if it was too late to make things right?