Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Exactly.” Owen turned back to Brady, his own cheeks rosy with drink. “That’s it, that’s exactly it. It’s none of their fucking business, is it? I’m in love with Jeremy. He’s the only one I have to answer to. The only one that matters.”
“Then why did you follow me here instead of talking to him?”
“I can’t. Not about… I can’t.”
“You have to. Put yourself in his shoes for a minute. You won’t say you’re gay but you’re still in his bed. I’ve seen the way he reacts. I know it bugs him. He’s smart enough to know your kind of situation rarely turns out well. Loving him has made your life more difficult. He has to carry that, wondering each day if you’re going to look at him and decide it’s not worth it.”
“Of course it’s worth it. We already dealt with his doubts. He knows I love him. He knows I’m committed.”
Brady scoffed. “I know he’s gotten you to open up more than anyone else ever has, but you always hold something back. Like the fact that you’ve wanted to propose since you moved in.”
Owen stared at him in telling silence.
“I’m right, aren’t I? You’ve been too afraid to ask because you can’t drag him to the altar the way you strong-armed your way into his pants and his house. He actually has to say yes to more than a shared pet and that is scaring the shit out of you. That’s why you’ve been pissed every time his phone rings. Why I knew it was time to pack up this morning. You want to pop the question.”
Owen was evasive. “I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome, I just thought… I don’t want to mess this up. If I’m doing it, it has to be right. And I need to have his undivided attention.”
“Well, then take him to some romantic getaway where none of our relatives or his friends from the convention can get ahold of him. He’ll say yes. He would’ve said yes a year ago.” Brady paused and pounded the bar for emphasis. “But if you’re serious, be serious. You’re a Finn. We go all in or not at all. Don’t use this bullshit label excuse anymore, because honestly? It sounds like you’re keeping one foot out the door. Also, cool it with the jealous fishwife routine. You want to remind him of all the reasons he can’t live without you, not send him running in the other direction.”
“He won’t be able to run.” The smile on his cousin’s face was disturbing. “Or answer his damn phone. I have a set of handcuffs and a paddle I can use that will make him agree to anything. Eventually.”
The crowd at the bar cheered raucously and the camera focused on Brady’s grimace before he reached for yet another drink of rum.
The woman in the tiara patted him on the shoulder, a wad of cash in her hand. “I always knew Cupid was a kinky redhead.”
“I’m not kinky.”
“Whatever. Now that you’ve solved his problem I have one that needs fixing. My friends hired a dancer for my birthday, but he didn’t show up and Seamus refuses to show me his shameless side. Take it off, Red. Take it all off!”
The screen froze after that and Brady closed his eyes in humiliation. “So that really happened. I suppose it’s lucky I don’t have a lease and my passport’s still good. I can be out of the country by tomorrow.”
Ken laughed and set his phone down. “Relax, Cupid. It only had a couple of views before I scrubbed it and closed that idiot’s account. He won’t be uploading anything for a while. Neither will his cats. I did save a copy for myself since I missed seeing it in person by mere minutes.”
And that was why he’d been drinking so heavily. He remembered—Ken had sent him a text message a few minutes before his cousin arrived, telling him to stay at the pub because they needed to talk. Had they had a conversation? Was there a video of that too?
Ken nudged his shoulder with his own. “No need to be embarrassed, Finn. That was an Academy-worthy speech, and long overdue. Owen can’t stay in his bubble forever. You could be the spokesperson for the LGBT community. The new slogan would be ‘Admit you’re gay, everyone else knows anyway.’”
“Fuck you.”
“Seriously, you’re a surprisingly eloquent drunk. And a talented stripper.”
His throat closed in panic. “Tanaka, I swear—”
“Kidding,” Ken interrupted, laying a hand on Brady’s biceps. “I’m kidding. I couldn’t resist. But you can. Even when I offered to pay every tab at the bar and people were chanting your name in their bid for free beer, you wouldn’t agree to stripping in public.”
“Thank God for that.” Brady realized abruptly that his head had stopped pounding. “And thank you for pulling that video down. I don’t think I would’ve been welcome back for the holidays if anyone in the family had seen it. Seamus and Owen still might ban me for life after that performance.” What had he been thinking?