army. You had to go off and fight for your country and that was more important than anything else. It doesnât change the fact you left in the dead of night without saying goodbye.â
âI thought it was easier that way.â
âFor me or for you?â
Brandâs gaze tracked over Jetâs face, lingering on those sinfully full lips, the arc of his throat. A white T-shirt molded to his sinuous muscles, clinging in tantalizing places. Brandâs body tightened. Leaving Jet the first time had been hard enough. Saying goodbye four years ago after that night together would have been the hardest thing heâd ever done. âFor everyone. Long distance wouldnât have worked, you know that.â
âI know thatâs what you said.â A challenge glimmered in Jetâs eye. âI figured the truth was you didnât want to be out in the defense forces. Am I right?â
Brand emitted a sound of disgust and turned away, walking a few paces until he was in the living room. He ran a hand over his crew cut, a style he kept because heâd gotten used to it and it was easy to take care of. Over the last decade, the army had become a part of him. His instinct to defend it was strong, but he owed Jet a more honest truth. âIf youâre asking me if itâs easier to be straight than bisexual or gay in the armed forces, it is. But that wasnât the reason.â
No, the reason heâd had to leave Jet was something else entirely. Jet had a way of looking at him with his love unhidden, his hopes and dreams on display. There were expectations there that Brand knew he couldnât fulfill, and he hadnât been able to stand the thought of one day looking into Jetâs eyes to see the hope had gone and all that was left was disappointment.
The kind of disappointment that was in the manâs voice now as he came to stand close, too close. âYouâve never had any trouble passing as straight, Brand. Is that what youâre doing with Emily?â
Brand tensed and shot Jet an acid look. His face was mere inches away, and his nearness made Brand as tetchy as the accusatory words. âYou donât know anything about me and Emily.â
âI know you havenât told her anything. Not about me orâ¦anything else.â
The hot tingle of shame crept up Brandâs neck. Heâd always told himself it didnât matter that Emily didnât know about his past, that it didnât change how he felt about her now. But deep down he knew Emily deserved better. And maybe heâd thought if she knew the truth about him, sheâd finally kick him out.
Selfishly, heâd chosen silence so sheâd let him stay.
âItâs not fair to her, Brand.â
âI know that,â Brand shot back. Jet might be right but that didnât mean Brand had to thank him for pointing out his failings. âI donât get why you think itâs your business all of a sudden.â
Jet lifted a shoulder. âI like her.â
Brand narrowed his eyes. âWhat do you mean, you like her?â
âI mean, after spending all afternoon and evening with her, I see the appeal.â
Jet brushed past Brand, his chest grazing Brandâs biceps. The muscle quivered in response. Brandâs reaction to the contact was as disturbing as Jetâs next words.
âWe get along very well, Emily and I.â Jet plonked himself down on one of the floral-patterned sofas and propped his bare feet on the coffee table. His lips formed an evil curve. âDidnât you wonder why she was already horny when you came home this morning?â
Talk about poking a wild bear. Sweat broke out on Jetâs brow as Brandâs expression set in forbidding lines. His gray eyes turned from stormy to ice-cold, and the scar on his forehead, normally faint from age, stood out like an angry gash.
Heâd always had an immature habit of needling Brand. When they were