Just a Bit Confusing (Straight Guys Book 5) by Alessandra Hazard

Author:Alessandra Hazard [Hazard, Alessandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: straight guys, friends to lovers
Published: 2015-12-14T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“Is there a reason you’ve been glaring at that bloke all evening?”

Ryan took a sip from his glass of wine and glanced sideways at his eldest brother. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zach leaned against the wall next to him, sipping his wine. His sharp gray eyes lingered on him for a moment before sweeping around the crowded room. Their Christmas celebrations used to be small, family-only affairs, but as all of them had grown up, they started including significant others, kids, and countless friends of the Hardaway siblings, and it was a large, crowded party now. Zach’s gaze stopped on the tall redhead who stood next to the Christmas tree—the tall redhead who was leaning into Jamie’s personal space. Paul Lambert.

“Yes, that’s the guy you’ve been glaring at,” Zach said dryly. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

“I haven’t been glaring at him,” Ryan said. “I just don’t know what he’s doing here. He wasn’t invited.”

“He came with Luke Whitford, whom you did invite.”

“He’s Jamie’s ex,” Ryan said. “That wanker broke his heart a few months ago.”

“James doesn’t look heartbroken,” Zach said. “He seems to be having fun.”

That was true enough—and that was pissing him off. Ryan wanted to go over and shake Jamie and ask him what the hell he was doing. Lambert had broken up with Jamie because Jamie wasn’t ready to come out of the closet and introduce him to his father. He was such a sore loser that he couldn’t accept the breakup with grace and told Jamie what a cold fish and terrible lover he was. It was the ultimate asshole thing to do, considering he had been Jamie’s first boyfriend. And now, for some reason, Jamie was smiling and chatting amicably with the guy.

“He shouldn’t even be talking to that prick,” Ryan said.

“I think you should stop babying James,” Zach said with a wry smile. “You do realize that he’s the same age as you, right? You’re more protective of him than you are of Miles, who’s your actual little brother.”

Ryan schooled his face into a neutral expression, fighting the heat that rushed to his face. His family was well aware that he considered Jamie a brother—in the past, Ryan hadn’t bothered to hide his annoyance whenever his brothers ribbed him about the nature of their relationship. He wondered what they would think if they found out about his recent proclivity for putting his dick in Jamie’s mouth.

“Jamie can take care of himself,” Ryan said, watching Lambert lean in and say something into Jamie’s ear, a sly smile on his face. “But that tosser should stay away from him. He had his chance, and he blew it.”

“Maybe James decided to give him a second chance,” Zach said, but he sounded distracted, his eyes fixed on Tristan, who was smirking at his adoptive brother across the room. “He’s at it again,”

he muttered, shaking his head, before stalking off toward Tristan.

Ryan watched Zach grab his boyfriend and give him a stern look. Tristan just smirked wider, looking very pleased with himself. Zach narrowed his eyes and told him something, which made Tristan blush. Tristan licked his lips and nodded with a surprisingly shy smile, and the look in Zach’s eyes could be described as somewhere between hungry and besotted as he gazed at his brat of a boyfriend.

Ryan shifted his gaze back to Jamie and Lambert and felt his jaw clench. The leer on Lambert’s face was nauseating. Jamie…Jamie was more difficult to read. He was smiling and looking interested in whatever Lambert was saying, but Ryan still had trouble believing Zach’s suggestion that Jamie might have decided to give that tosser a second chance. Jamie didn’t love Lambert. Jamie was in love with him. Regardless of how Ryan felt about it, that was something he had come to accept. Except…

except Jamie had been genuinely upset after his breakup with Lambert. And Lambert had been his first. A man never forgot his first.

Pressing his lips together, Ryan told himself Jamie hated being coddled. Not to mention that any attempt to interfere would look like jealousy. It was more than enough that he kept screwing with his friend’s mind because he couldn’t keep his dick out of his mouth; he didn’t want to give Jamie the wrong impression and mess with his head any further. Ryan wasn’t jealous, of course. If it had been some other guy—a decent guy—Ryan would only be glad that Jamie was interested in someone who could return his feelings. He would be glad. Probably.

Ryan almost laughed. Shit, who was he kidding? He was no longer sure of anything where Jamie was concerned. His possessiveness had been worse since he had started putting his dick in his best friend’s mouth—he sometimes caught himself thinking of Jamie’s mouth as his property, which was…fucking insane.

Grimacing, Ryan shook his head. He couldn’t allow himself to begin thinking that way. These proprietary thoughts were ridiculous. What he and Jamie had wasn’t normal or healthy for either of them. If Jamie found someone he genuinely liked, someone who could give him a normal relationship, good for him.

But no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t just stand aside and watch that train wreck. That git didn’t deserve Jamie and would end up hurting him—again.

Ryan found himself moving toward the pair.

“Hey,” Ryan said, placing a hand on Jamie’s neck and fixing Lambert with a steady look. “I don’t remember inviting you. What was your name again?”

Jamie elbowed him not-so-discreetly.

Lambert plastered a smile on his face. “It’s Lambert. Paul Lambert. Good to see you again.

When Luke—”

“Excuse us, Lambert,” Ryan said, steering Jamie away.

“What the hell was that?” Jamie said as soon as they were out of Lambert’s earshot.

“Shouldn’t I be asking that?” Ryan said, dragging him upstairs where it was quieter. He ushered Jamie into his bedroom, shut the door, took Jamie’s shoulders, and peered into his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing? Lambert was a total dick to you when you broke up.”

Averting his gaze, Jamie shrugged.

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to prove something?”

Jamie didn’t answer.

“James.”

Jamie flinched and gave him a startled look. “You never call me James.”

“Maybe I finally decided to listen to you and call you what everyone else does.”

The expression on Jamie’s face was rather priceless.

Ryan smiled. “Don’t tell me you actually love being Jamie just for me.” He was teasing.

Except instead of laughing, Jamie blushed.

Their eyes locked and Ryan felt his smile fade. Maybe it was ridiculous considering everything that had happened between them, but this was the first time he truly realized that Jamie was in love with him—that Jamie got butterflies in his stomach when Ryan smiled at him, that he might like to be called by mushy pet names and endearments.

“You’re blushing,” Ryan said, brushing his knuckles over Jamie’s cheek lightly. Jamie shivered a little, his lips parting. Ryan’s gaze dropped to them and he cringed inwardly, trying to ignore the familiar stirring of arousal. It’d been two days since their conversation…since the last time. Jamie had called him a pervert. Jamie was right, because even now, with his family and friends just a few steps away outside the door, he wanted to push the guy he always considered a baby brother to his knees and shove his dick into Jamie’s mouth, even though a part of him felt it was wrong, sick and fucked up.

The door behind Ryan opened. It was his mother.

“Darling, your father is here,” she told Jamie, frowning. “He seems agitated. He’s waiting for you downstairs.”

His eyes wide, Jamie looked at Ryan. “What do you think he wants?” he asked, a look of anxiety crossing his features. “He never comes looking for me here.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and grimaced. “I forgot I put it on silent. I have three missed calls from him. Do you think something happened?”

“Calm down,” Ryan said, laying a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “It’s probably nothing.”

They both knew it was unlikely to be nothing, but Jamie relaxed under his touch a little. “Let’s go,” he said.

Ryan followed him downstairs, to the small room where Zach kept medical records of his regular clients.

Arthur Grayson stood there, with his back straight and his hands in his pockets. His face was inscrutable, but Ryan knew Arthur well enough to notice the subtle tension in his body. His mother was wrong: Arthur wasn’t agitated—he was furious.

“I wish to speak to my son alone,” Arthur said in a deceptively calm, quiet voice.

Jamie said nothing.

Ryan glanced at him. “I’ll stay,” he told Arthur in a tone that brooked no argument.

A muscle jumped in Arthur ’s cheek. “This is a private matter, Hardaway.”

“I’ll stay,” Ryan repeated, leaning his hip against the desk. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

He had never seen Arthur so enraged. Arthur wasn’t a physically imposing man, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in sheer presence. “You—”

Ryan held Arthur ’s gaze steadily, not at all intimidated.

Arthur was the first to look away. “James,” he bit out. “Tell your friend to leave.”

“You can say anything in front of him. We have no secrets.”

A sneer curled Arthur ’s lips. “Does he know you’re a shirt-lifter, then?”

Swearing on the inside, Ryan looked at Jamie, who had gone deathly pale. Ryan forced himself to stay still, even though all he wanted was to envelop Jamie in his arms and take him away from this room, from that man. Jamie wouldn’t want his interference. He wouldn’t want to appear weak in front of his father.

He watched Jamie swallow and attempt to school his face into a blank mask. “How have you found out?” he asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

Arthur ’s sneer took on a disgusted edge. He pulled an envelope out of his inner pocket and slammed it on the desk.

Jamie hesitated before walking over and opening it. His lips pressed together when he pulled out the photographs. They were blurry, but even from a few feet away, Ryan recognized Jamie and Lambert. They were kissing. Lamber was kissing Jamie’s mouth. Jamie’s mouth.

An ugly emotion twisted his stomach. Then Ryan realized the pictures must have been taken several months ago. He breathed out and unclenched his fists, disturbed his own reaction.

“Imagine my surprise when a journalist approached me at the Christmas ball.” Arthur ’s voice could have cut a diamond. “I had to pay him a small fortune for his silence.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Jamie said, his voice still firm even though he looked like he was about to be sick. “I’m not ashamed of my sexuality. I’m gay. It happens.”

“Insolent boy,” Arthur said. “Luckily for you, I’m willing to forget this ever happened. You will marry Megan Cadogan in three months.”

“I won’t,” Jamie said, lifting his chin. “Don’t you get that I’m gay, Dad?”

“Stop saying that,” Arthur hissed, hands balled into fists by his sides.

Ryan eyed them. “Either calm down, or get out. Sir.”

A muscle in Arthur ’s jaw started ticking. “All of this is your fault. If James hadn’t clung to you throughout his formative years, he would have been normal.”

“He’s perfectly normal,” Ryan gritted out. “And if you can’t stop insulting him, you’d better get out before I plant my fist in your face. Sir.”

“Ryan,” Jamie said softly. “Don’t. He’s just upset. He’ll get over it.”

“Upset,” Ryan repeated in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, though there was no real conviction in his voice. “He’s upset because he loves me. He’s disappointed because he had expectations. That’s it. It would have been worse if he didn’t care at all.”

Arthur ’s face was a stony mask, impossible to read as he stared at his son. “Are you still…

associating with that man?” he said, jerking his head toward the envelope.

“We broke up months ago,” Jamie said. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m still gay. I was going to tell you. I don’t want to marry Megan. I want—I want to be with someone I love.” Immediately, he flushed, looking highly uncomfortable.

“Someone you love,” Arthur repeated flatly. He looked at Ryan, his eyes narrowed. “And who would that be?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jamie said, looking anywhere but at Ryan. “My point is, it’s not the Middle Ages and I don’t have to marry someone I don’t love to get the heir. There are other ways.”

Arthur was still looking at Ryan, his eyes sharp. Ryan held his gaze unflinchingly. He wasn’t completely sure whether Arthur had guessed the truth or not, but he wasn’t going to be the one to confirm Arthur ’s suspicions.

Finally, Arthur looked back at his son. “Do not be foolish. Getting an heir is not the only reason we want the alliance with the Cadogans. You’re correct: it’s not the Middle Ages. We had it much easier in the Middle Ages. We were respected, we were feared, we had power, we had wealth, because our estates were actually profitable. Now the few of us who have managed to hold onto our ancestral homes and fortune are envied and hated by those who think we’re a thing of the past. Do I need to remind you how many ancestral mansions have been demolished in England in the past century? How much cultural heritage has been lost? How many old families have become irrelevant? The Graysons are still at the top because each generation of our family made sure we remain there. I will not allow you to be the one to ruin us.”

The worst part was, Ryan thought grimly, Arthur actually believed in what he was saying. If he were simply trying to manipulate his son with pretty words about duty, it would have been easier for Jamie to say no to him. But Arthur was clearly passionate about his family and proud of his heritage, and even Ryan felt a twinge of sympathy. He knew Arthur wasn’t lying. The taxes introduced in the twentieth century had directly hit the aristocracy and gentry, making it unviable for them to keep their huge country houses. Considering how many old estates the Graysons had managed to keep and renovate, the maintenance costs alone were probably insane.

Arthur ’s voice softened a little. “You’re still young and don’t understand that we can’t always have what we want. Sometimes what we want is irrelevant. Sometimes what we want is impossible.”

Jamie’s expression shattered.

As if sensing weakness, Arthur said, his voice even softer, “I’m willing to forgive your transgression as long as you understand that this—this phase is over. You will not flaunt your…

unnaturalness. I do not care what you do in the privacy of your bedroom, but you are to marry Cadogan’s girl.”

To Ryan’s consternation, Jamie didn’t refuse immediately.

“What a touching speech,” a familiar voice said.

Tristan was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a bored look on his face. But it was Arthur ’s expression that caught Ryan’s attention. Jamie’s dad paled, his eyes wide as he stared at Tristan. He looked as if he’d just seen a ghost.

Tristan met Arthur ’s gaze. “What?” he said softly. “Do I look that much like her?”

His forehead creasing, Ryan glanced between Arthur and Tristan before looking inquiringly at Jamie. Jamie shrugged with a confused frown.

“Yeah, when I was a kid, I was told I was the spitting image of her,” Tristan said amiably.

“Except for the eyes, of course.” His blue-green eyes were very cold, contrasting with his pleasant, nice smile. Those eyes were…Fucking hell. They were exactly like Arthur ’s, down to their frosty expression. Tristan was the same medium height and build as Arthur.

Realizing where it was going, Ryan stepped closer to Jamie and touched his wrist. Jamie grabbed his hand and squeezed, looking between his father and Tristan. “Dad?”

Arthur didn’t even look his way, his gaze locked on Tristan.

“If I were you, James,” Tristan said. “I wouldn’t listen to a word he says. He’s the worst kind of hypocrite.”

“I’m not a hypocrite,” Arthur said. His voice sounded strange. “Your existence only proves it.”

Tristan smiled brightly. “Oh, you do recognize me! How nice of you, Daddy.”

Arthur flinched.

Jamie squeezed Ryan’s fingers hard, his eyes wide.

“But yeah, I guess you’re right,” Tristan said. “I’m living proof that a Grayson should always ignore irrelevant and inconvenient things.”

“You’re proof that we can’t always have what we want,” Arthur said tonelessly. “And must do what we must.” He cleared his throat, and for the first time ever, Ryan saw Arthur look distinctly uncomfortable. “I did love your mother.”

Tristan’s smile remained firmly in place, though his eyes grew even colder. “I’m sure it comforted her while she died alone, with only a five-year-old for company.” His smile was practically blinding now. “And I sure felt the love when I spent three days with her dead body until the neighbors complained about the smell and called the authorities.”

Arthur ’s face was a little green. He kept swallowing convulsively.

“Enough, Tristan,” Zach said in a low voice. Ryan hadn’t even noticed him appear behind his boyfriend—perhaps because most of Ryan’s attention was on Jamie, who still had a deathly grip on his hand.

“But I just started,” Tristan said with a grin that was only a little shaky.

Zach’s arms came up and pulled Tristan back against his chest. “He isn’t worth it,” he said, kissing Tristan’s temple. He added something in a quieter voice and Tristan relaxed, the ice in his eyes melting.

“You—” Arthur said, staring at Tristan and Zach in obvious distaste.

“Yes,” Tristan said, looking oddly strong and fragile now that he was in the safety of Zach’s arms. “I’m a poofter, too.” He grinned, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Must be the genes of the prick who fathered both of us.”

Arthur wasn’t amused at all. “I will not allow you to speak to me in such a tone. I’m your—”

“You aren’t my anything,” Tristan hissed out, all of his false cheerfulness gone. “You have only one son. The one you chose.”

Something shifted in Arthur ’s expression.

Tristan smiled again, a nice, serene smile that was just a little too sharp around the edges. “And you know what? You made the right choice. I would have been nowhere as malleable as James.”

Jamie made a soft noise in the back of his throat. Ryan clasped his shoulder, rubbing his thumb in circles.

“Regardless of how you feel about it, I am your father,” Arthur said tersely.

“You’re twenty years too late,” Tristan said, barely moving his lips. “You had the chance to be my father. You chose not to be.”

“I couldn’t,” Arthur said. “Now I can give you—”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tristan said. “I don’t need you and I don’t need the Grayson money. I have my own, plenty of it. You don’t have any business poking your nose in my life, Lord Lytton.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” Arthur said.

Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Arthur looked…annoyed. “You think you and your adoptive brother were just conveniently discovered by a London football club’s scout? That it was a coincidence?”

Tristan paled. “You mean…”

“Yes,” Arthur said irritably. “Obviously I couldn’t force them to sign two French teenagers if they didn’t have the talent, but I did persuade the scout to give you a chance.”

Pale as paper, Tristan whispered, “Why?”

“Because you’re my son,” Arthur said, his jaw working. “Because you’re her son. And it was easier to keep an eye on you if you were in the same country.”

Tristan opened and closed his mouth. He gave a short, brittle laugh. “You had to take this away from me too, huh?” he said, his voice cracking a little before he turned around and left.

Ryan had never seen his brother look so livid. Zach grated out, “Get out of my house and don’t come back.” He left, calling Tristan’s name.

Silence fell upon the room.

Arthur was still staring at the place Tristan had stood.

Jamie was staring at his father. “Why?” he whispered hoarsely.

Arthur flinched and looked at his son, as if only now realizing Jamie was there.

“How could you?” Jamie said, his voice rising in volume. “He’s the same age as me. You had a woman on the side while Mum was pregnant?”

Arthur ’s lips thinned. “Leave us,” he told Ryan.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ryan said.

Arthur glanced at their clasped hands with obvious distaste but was smart enough not to comment on it. “It’s complicated,” he told his son.

Jamie glared at him. “You already ruined Christmas for me. The least you can do is explain why you were cheating on your wife while she was pregnant.”

Arthur turned away to look out the window. “I was young and foolish,” he said briskly. “She was…she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I couldn’t stay away from her, even though she was from a different world: an uneducated gypsy, poorer than our lowest servants.” Arthur let out a harsh chuckle. “Your grandfather was convinced she had bewitched me. Perhaps she did. I wanted her like I’d never wanted anything in my life.”

Jamie took in an audible breath and said in a small voice, “Why did you choose us if you wanted them?”

“I couldn’t possibly leave my pregnant wife for a gypsy,” Arthur said tonelessly. “You know your grandmother had a weak heart. She had a heart attack when I told her that I refused to end my affair—that I wanted to divorce my pregnant wife.” When Arthur spoke again, he looked Jamie straight in the eye. “I’m not proud of myself. My behavior was reckless, impulsive and completely unfitting for a Grayson. I was a besotted fool. But it was a good learning experience. I learned that sometimes it doesn’t matter what we want. Sometimes we must do what we must. I broke up with her.

My mother recovered and your mother didn’t find out—not then, at least.”

Jamie asked, “Did you know Tristan’s mother was pregnant with him?”

A shadow crossed Arthur ’s face. “No,” he said tersely. “Since he’s a few months older than you, it appears she neglected to inform me of her pregnancy on purpose. She was foolishly proud like that.

I found out that I had another son only when she appeared on my doorstep five years later. She looked…she looked very ill, nearly unrecognizable. She begged me to take care of the boy.”

“And you refused?” Ryan cut in, not bothering to hide his disgust.

Arthur pressed his lips together. “Not everything is black and white, Hardaway. She came at a bad time. James’s grandmother was living with us at the time, since her health was deteriorating. So I turned them away, but I did intend to find them and to offer them help discreetly. But it turned out to be more difficult than I expected. When the private detective I hired finally tracked them down months later, she was dead and the boy had been adopted already.” Ryan didn’t think Arthur was aware of it, but his eyes softened a little. “He was a beautiful child, so I wasn’t surprised he had been adopted so quickly. I had people watching him, even when his adoptive parents moved to France. After they died, I was forced to interfere, but generally I stayed away from him.”

Ryan could no longer feel his fingers because of Jamie’s grip.

“Why?” Jamie said. “Nothing would have stopped you from taking him in after his adoptive parents died. Grandmother died when I was seven, and Mum and you weren’t at each other ’s throats at that point.”

“I wanted to claim him as mine. But your mother wasn’t happy when I told her. That’s why we’ve been ‘at each other ’s throats’ ever since, as you put it.”

“What?” Jamie said with a frown. “She wouldn’t.”

A wry smile touched Arthur ’s lips. “She would. She did. It is rather understandable. She would have been humiliated if I claimed the boy as my own and society found out about it. She threatened to divorce me and move away from England, taking you with her.”

Ryan’s heart clenched when Jamie’s face lit up. “You didn’t want to lose me?”

Arthur gave him an unimpressed look. “Of course I didn’t. You’re my son and my legitimate heir. Tristan could never inherit the title. I couldn’t allow my heir to be moved to another country.”

Jamie’s face fell. Ryan wondered if Arthur was just insensitive or didn’t care.

“Besides, I knew the boy wouldn’t forgive me.” A faint smile appeared on Arthur ’s face. “That boy is a Grayson, through and through. He’s too proud and strong-willed.” There was some irritation in Arthur ’s voice—but there was reluctant admiration, too.

Ryan could almost physically feel how much it hurt Jamie. Arthur had never given Jamie any indication that he admired him: loved, yes, but admired? No. In Arthur ’s opinion, Jamie was too soft-hearted and weak.

“Tristan is gay, too,” Ryan said, squeezing Jamie’s fingers.

Arthur ’s expression didn’t change. “I have been aware of that for quite some time, but at least he knows how to be discreet about his personal life. And he is not my heir, so what he does in his bedroom is irrelevant, in any case.” He shot Jamie a sharp look. “I will see you at home. I expect you to have come to your senses by that time.”

Jamie’s face remained blank until the door closed after Arthur.

Then, he said, without looking at Ryan, “Can we go to your place? I want to be somewhere without people.”

“He’s full of shit,” Ryan said.

Jamie shook his head. “Not now. Please. Just take me home.”

Ryan took him home.

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