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“What am I doing?” Kieran half whispered, lust circling in his brain, sparking his nerve endings with need. He winced as he realised what he’d said, waiting for Jordan to push him away at the apparent self-doubt.

“It’s been so long for me,” Jordan replied, his voice low. “How long for you?”

Kieran groaned, leaning the final breath of distance and kissing Jordan gently, then he pulled back. “Since I was with someone?”

“Not just that,” Jordan whispered in reply, “but for you… How long since you have wanted this, wanted us?”

Kieran was quick to shake his head, sneaking another soft kiss. “It isn’t just want for me. I thought you would know that from what I said.” Reaching up, he untwisted Jordan’s hand from his hair. He lay back on the bed next to Kieran. Jordan rolled to his side and propped himself up. Kieran felt those clever fingers finding the hem of his T-shirt and sneaking under the soft cotton to the skin underneath.

“Talk to me, Kieran.”

“I can’t think of another way to say it. I just know that I love you.”

“Kieran, you can’t love me, not really. Damn it, you hardly know me.”

Kieran jumped in, cutting off at the pass whatever else Jordan was going to say. He didn’t want to discuss this, nor did he want an I love you too in reply. He didn’t need platitudes and empty promises. Not at this point.

“I have half loved you since I was a teenager. Hell, maybe even before that.” He brought his arm up to cover his eyes, welcoming the anonymity of the darkness instead of having to focus on Jordan’s knowing expression

Leaving Main Street, he took the turn to the bay that gave his town its name. Not a bay, really, but a shoreline on Lake Champlain. One person was throwing sticks for their dog into the stillness of the water, and Kieran nodded in passing. He didn’t recognise them, but why would he? It had been so long since he had any kind of routine exposure to this small town. Half an hour into the run, when he saw the first car on the road into town, he doubled back to home, realising he had actually pushed back the worries with the rhythm of his feet on the road. It was a good feeling.

He could compartmentalise Jordan. He didn’t need to act on any lingering attraction he may have for his brother’s partner. His dead brother.

“Kieran, can you make sure you’re in the house at ten?”

Jordan’s voice forced its way into his thoughts as Kieran stopped at the yard gate to stretch out the muscles after his run. It startled him, and he blinked wide as his brain tried to catch up with his surprise. Jordan was dressed similar to him in sweats and an old tee, clearly just starting his own exercise. That had always been one thing they’d had in common—an enjoyment of the early morning run.

“Your dad wants a family meeting,” Jordan added with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Stupid response. Of course he’d be there, and why did Jordan’s question have an edge to it? “Will you?”

“Your dad wants me there. And in any case I guess I need to hand some stuff over.”

“What stuff?” Kieran asked because he thought he

the jet lag was killing him, muddling his thoughts and making him unable to concentrate. He needed to sleep. When he walked into the kitchen, his mom was sitting at the table, nursing a coffee, her hands wrapped around the mug. She looked at him fondly, a smile on her face. Again he was caught by how tired she looked.

“Everything okay?” she asked carefully, in that non-intrusive way that his momma had about her.

“Everything’s fine, Momma,” Kieran lied, pushing his confused jumble of thoughts way down where he could try to forget about them. He strode across the kitchen and dropped a small kiss on her head. “I promise. I just went to see Brad. It’s been a while. “

His mom smiled and shut her eyes for a few seconds. He’d almost reached the kitchen door when she spoke again, stopping him in his tracks.

“Can we talk?” his mom asked gently, indicating the seat opposite and rising to pour two fresh mugs of coffee. Kieran felt the pit of his stomach drop. He had avoided serious conversation with his mom for so long. So far, he’d managed to derail every reference to ‘the talk’ with the only person that could really see through him.

“Okay,” he sighed, resigned, realising it was probably for the best that they get everything out in the open. He imagined she would want to know why he’d chosen a school overseas, why he hadn’t come home, why she’d lost her middle child so very completely. He slid into the chair opposite her. He mimicked her earlier stance, wrap