The Home-wrecker (The Goode Brothers)
The Home-wrecker: Chapter 33

“Hey, kid,” my dad says as he stomps his feet on the mat by the door.

“Hey,” I mutter in reply, not looking away from the video game on the screen.

“Thought you were staying at your friend’s tonight.”

I shrug. “Nah.”

He pauses on his way to the kitchen as if he’s waiting for me to expand on that topic, but I don’t.

The truth is that I feel less welcome at Isaac’s house now that his brother knows about us. He used to take us places, and for a moment, it felt like Isaac and I had some freedom. We’d go to the movies or the mall or out to eat, but now Caleb watches us like he’s waiting to catch us holding hands or kissing.

It bugs the shit out of me, and I’m fucking tired of it.

I thought he was going to be cool about Isaac and me, but clearly, I was wrong. And now it’s getting to Isaac’s head, too. I’m afraid he’s going to break up with me.

Well, fuck that. I’ll break up with him first.

My dad cracks open a beer from the fridge and slips off his boots before dropping into the recliner and putting his feet up.

“You two didn’t break up, did you?” he asks.

My hands freeze, and blood rushes to my face. Glancing sideways at my dad, I try to remain cool as I reply, “What? Who?”

“You and that boy.”

I have to force myself to swallow. “What do you mean break up? He’s just my friend.”

“Oh,” my dad replies casually. “My mistake.”

I turn my head toward him with my brows pinched together. I want to tell him I’m not technically gay, but my dad is old, and I don’t know if he understands the difference. It feels like too much of a conversation, and I don’t know where the fuck to start.

Instead, I just mumble, “We didn’t break up.”

He nods knowingly. “Good.”

What the fuck is happening? Did I just come out? Does my dad even know what bisexual means? Should I tell him?

I’m so confused.

My dad was born and raised in Texas. It’s not that I was afraid he was going to kick me out or anything; I just never expected him to be this nonchalant about it.

“Finish your game. The Longhorns are playing tonight.” He points toward the TV with the hand holding his beer.

I glance back at my game, unable to focus on it now. “Uh…yeah. Sure.”

Quickly saving my progress, I turn off the PlayStation. Instead of going to my room to hide, which is what I normally do, I find myself sitting in the empty recliner next to my dad.

Present Day

I’ve never worn a tux before. Standing in the mirror of my apartment, I stare at the man in the reflection. This feels reckless. Like I should know better.

Getting so attached to these two is dangerous, but I know it’s dangerous, and yet, I’m doing it anyway. This isn’t like me.

Before leaving my apartment, I take a selfie in the mirror. Then I send it in a text message to my dad. He’s not great with his phone, but he loves getting pictures, so I know he’ll enjoy this.

The family I’m staying with invited me to a charity thing.

Fancy people shit. I’m going for the free food and booze. How do I look?

Guilt assaults me at the reminder that I haven’t gone to see him in over a week. I’ve been so distracted with everything, and that’s fucked up. I went from taking care of him every day to barely seeing him and never talking to him.

The man is dying. What is wrong with me?

I’m halfway out the door when my phone buzzes. Glancing down at the screen, I smile.

Looking sharp, kid. It’s nice to see your face.

Fuck. His response has me freezing on the stairs.

God, I’m such an asshole.

I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay?

Don’t worry about me. Have fun tonight. Send more pictures.

Okay.

I want to tell him that I miss him or that I love him, but as cool and as laid back as my dad is, he’s not the greatest with emotions and feelings. We keep things simple.

By the time I reach the house, Abby is already gone. Briar’s sister picked her up a couple of hours ago. The house is quiet, so I quickly jog up the stairs and creep around the corner to see Briar sitting at her bathroom vanity, applying her makeup.

The sight of her takes my breath away. Her blondish, brownish hair is down and curled at the ends. Her dress is dark blue and sleek. It’s short enough that when she crosses her legs on the small chair, it exposes her soft, pale thighs.

My mouth waters at the thought of burying my face between her legs and feeling those thighs wrapped around my head.

Caleb walks out of the large closet, buttoning his shirt as his eyes collide with mine. Slowly, his gaze rakes down my body as if he’s soaking in the sight of me in his clothes.

“Hey,” he says, clearing his throat, and I enter the room, showing off the way his tux fits me like a glove.

Briar’s eyes lift as she takes in my appearance. “You look so good,” she says with enthusiasm.

“It fits perfectly,” I reply, turning slowly.

“Yeah,” he stammers. “You should keep that. It looks better on you than it did on me.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I reply with a wink.

He turns his gaze to the mirror, clearly uncomfortable with my flirty nature.

“So, if I come with you guys tonight, then I want to use this time wisely,” I say, leaning against the wall.

“What do you mean?” Briar asks while putting on her earrings.

“I mean that I want you two to do as I say.”

Her eyebrows lift. Caleb glances my way with a furrowed brow.

“You know my mother will be there, right?”

I let out a laugh. “Then I’ll be sure to keep it discreet.”

He makes his way toward me, his eyes on my tie. Once we’re toe to toe, he undoes the messy job I did (which I had to watch on a YouTube video) and begins to retie it. My eyes are on his face as he does, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

“We asked you to help us spice up our marriage,” he says calmly as he tightens the knot around my neck.

“Yes, you did,” I reply.

His eyes lift and meet mine. “Then I guess that means we’ll do whatever you say.”

My heart hammers in my chest as we stare at each other for another moment. Then he steps away and I suddenly feel too hot for this tuxedo.

It takes them about fifteen more minutes to get ready, and soon, we’re climbing into Caleb’s SUV and on our way to the event. I can’t help the nerves that settle in my bones. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong with a happily married couple, regardless of how comfortable I feel with them.

I’m the infiltrator, the third wheel, the home-wrecker.

I feel like I’m stuck in some gray area. I’m here to help a couple with intimacy issues, but at the same time…I mean something to them. They mean something to me.

Fuck, it could be more than that. I find myself so drawn to Caleb. I want to smother that broody, pensive nature of his just to see his disarming but rare smile.

And Briar—what a surprise she turned out to be. I want to be around her all the time. I want to know everything in her mind and see her kneel for me as if I’m worthy of her.

When we reach the event, I stay close to them. They walk in, hand in hand, while I trail behind. The event is nothing like I expected. Everyone is dressed up, but the energy in the room is more relaxed and fun than I thought it would be.

Immediately, we’re greeted by Melanie at the door. She’s wearing a silver gown and a bright smile. How this woman maintains such a positive and warm personality through everything, I’ll never know.

She gives me a tight hug and seems genuinely happy to see me there, which is nice. Most people are only excited to see me in work settings, and that’s never personal. This feels personal.

I really shouldn’t get used to this.

After entering the ballroom, we head straight for the bar. Sage and Adam are hovering nearby with Caleb’s brother, Lucas.

“Hey!” Sage says with enthusiasm. She moves toward me first as if we’re kindred spirits, a couple of outsiders who need to stick together. “I’m so glad you came!” She squeals as she pulls me into a hug.

She’s wearing a tight black sequin dress that seems far too sexy and revealing for an event like this. But she owns it, as Sage so often does.

I notice the way Adam reaches for her, even as he’s talking to Caleb, as if he can’t stand her stepping away from him for only a second. When he turns to greet me, he’s not nearly as tense or resentful as I expected after the incident at his mother’s house.

“Glad you could make it,” he says cheerfully as he puts out a hand for me to shake.

“Thanks for having me,” I reply.

He claps me on the shoulder and gives me a tight smile. Adam reminds me of a congressman, but like an edgy one who definitely has a very kinky, sexy side. And it’s not even that hidden if you come to the club on the right night.

Sage and Adam get called away, and I stand around awkwardly as Briar and Caleb chat with Lucas. I’m only one drink in and I’m starting to feel antsy. Nothing is really happening. Everyone is standing around chatting and we’re there nearly an hour before we make it to our seats and they start serving food.

During dinner, Melanie takes the stage and makes a speech about the charity. She keeps it short and casual, using her quirky humor and pretty smile to keep the crowd light and happy.

Briar is sitting on my left, and halfway through our meal, I feel her hand brush my leg. Swallowing, I glance her way, doing my best not to draw attention. She doesn’t do much more than that, although I wouldn’t turn down the idea of getting a hand job under the table. Instead, she touches me affectionately as if to say she’s glad I’m here. That I matter to her.

It means more than a hand job, if I’m honest.

By the time dinner is over, people are starting to appear and behave a little tipsy. Which is a sight for such a middle-aged, affluent crowd.

“Let’s go dance,” Briar says, bumping me with her elbow and tossing her napkin down on the table.

“Dance?” I stammer, staring at her as if she’s grown a third eye.

“Relax. It’s not the waltz.” She laughs as she drags me out of my seat and onto the dance floor.

Immediately, I feel like it’s middle school again, and I’m expected to shuffle around the middle of the room with my hands on her hips.

Needless to say, I let her lead.

She presses my left hand to her hip and takes my right as she pulls our bodies close together. Then she moves us with the music in a slow motion around the floor.

“This isn’t inappropriate?” I ask in a low mumble.

She shrugs. “Not really. I dance with Luke and Adam sometimes. It’s just a dance.”

I nod, loving the way her short satin dress feels under my fingers. It reminds me how soft her hips are and how good they feel in my hands. My cock twitches in my pants at the memory of her laid out naked in my bed, her legs wrapped around me, ready to give herself to me.

Not to be dramatic, but that was the best sex of my life. And I’ve had a lot.

The way she stared into my eyes as if I was more than a hot guy with a big dick. I was special to her. She needed me.

Deep down, I want her to always need me.

“Besides,” she adds with a shrug. “Why not give them something to talk about? Who really cares what they think anyway? So we are all sleeping together. Who cares?”

I can’t help but chuckle as I lean in and breathe in the soft, flowery scent of her hair. “Doesn’t your religion have something to say about that?”

She scoffs. Then, after a moment of contemplation, she says, “I don’t think I really care what my religion has to say anymore.”

“What would make you happy?” I whisper, not daring to look into her eyes.

She lets out a soft breath. “I think you know what would make me happy.”

Her body is pressed against mine as we spin around the room, and I can barely breathe with how much I want her. I know what would make her happy. It’s the same thing that would make me happy.

Feeling free to do what we want. All three of us. Together. No restraints. No judgment. No expectations or labels.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” I mumble into her hair.

“Me too,” she replies.

Then my eyes lift and I see Caleb watching us from across the room. He’s standing by the bar with his brothers, but instead of talking, he’s busy staring at us.

And the look on his face is anything but angry. In fact, he’s wearing a proud smirk that lets me know he feels the same way we do.