Cliff's Edge by LAURA HARNER Read Free Book Online

elbow into a bottle of beer, and then catching it before it could tumble over. Cliff sucked in a huge breath, forcing a fragile calm he wasn’t sure he could maintain.
    “Sorry, Ty—we’ll clean up and be right there,” Cliff offered, his voice wavering with more suppressed laughter.
    Still chuckling and wiping the tears from his eyes, Ryan nodded. “Yeah…right there. Sorry, man…Cliff got tied up.” The bottle landed on the table with a thunk, barely remaining upright, as Ryan fell over sideways onto the floor, clutching his stomach as a fresh bout of laughter seized him.
    Ty’s gaze flickered to Cliff, who was barely holding it together. “Glad to see you have this all straightened out, see you soon.” Ty backed out of the door, smiling and looking as if he was fighting his own laughter.
    Feeling lighter than he had in days, Cliff reached out his hand, and Ryan accepted the help up. “Come on, Rhino, before Cookie gets pissed and we don’t get any of the ribs he’s grilling.”
    “Yeah…no sense in letting a little thing like this Dominate our evening…”
    Cliff rolled his eyes, before giving in and joining the laughter once again.
    ****
    Ryan munched on a rib and watched the other men as they moved comfortably around the living room of the main ranch house. Ty and Cass were relaxed hosts, expecting everyone to help themselves. The dining room table and sideboard were practically groaning with platters of ribs and wings, and a build-your-own-taco bar. Periodically, Ty would disappear for a few minutes, then return with some new goodie…like the layered chili and beef nachos that appeared at the beginning of the second quarter or the delicious potato skins that showed up between the halftime show and the talking heads over-analyzing every detail of the game as if world domination were at stake.
    Beyond the hot food there were veggie trays, chips, salsa…even a frijole clam dip that Cliff swore was to die for. Ryan would take his word on it. There were too many other goodies to take a chance on fishy beans…but no matter what Ty brought out, the men just kept eating. Twenty-one of them, in fact. He knew…he’d counted.
    Black, white, Hispanic, tall, short, slender, husky, bald, long-haired, blonds, brunettes, even a redhead. What there wasn’t was a woman. Not one.
    Men held hands, or sat next to each other on the sofas or floor pillows. No one thought anything about a kiss or a pat. Or a nothing. He and Cliff weren’t the only men in the group not touching each other romantically. Even as the evening wore on and the drinking and trash talk escalated, it was clear that not everyone was paired up and no one gave a good goddamn one way or the other.
    “Oh, no!” Cliff groaned along with half the men there as the Seahawks’ receiver let a ball slip through his hands. “This is going to require copious amounts of booze to get through.”
    Cliff patted Ryan’s thigh, pushed himself from the couch, and stalked into the kitchen. Ryan’s gaze followed him out the door, then he caught a movement from the corner of his eye and he discovered Ty watching him watch Cliff. Ty raised his bottle in a silent toast, before turning back to his lover, and whispering something that made the other man smile. Ryan wished he knew what the toast was for.
    Replaying the scene through someone else’s eyes, he realized he and Cliff looked as much like a couple as many of the pairs here. They sat jammed hip-to-hip on the crowded sofa, smacking each other on the shoulder or leg, bringing each other drinks, making small inside jokes, their laughter private.
    Just like they’d done at dozens of football parties over the years. Or beach parties. BUDs graduation parties. End of mission parties. Hell…he couldn’t remember the last party he’d been to without Cliff. Cliff rented an apartment in the same complex as Ryan’s condo. They even DVR’d their favorite shows to watch together. They knew each other’s secrets.
    No