Three the Hard Way by Sydney Croft Page A

good-looking. “It’s what we do. I got pneumonia when I was eleven, and he was there, day and night. When he broke his leg when he was fourteen, I didn’t leave his side until he could walk on his own.”
    He’d even bypassed nurses, doctors, and security in those first few hours after Justice had arrived at the hospital, because fuck if anyone was keeping him away from his friend. Not family, they’d said? Screw that. Family had nothing to do with blood.
    He glanced away from Ian before he did something stupid, like take his hand and pull him down on top of him. Not for sex, but for comfort.
    “I hate that you have that kind of history with him.”
    Tag blinked. “What?”
    “It’s that jealousy thing again. You’ve got twenty-six years of history with him, and I can’t compete with that.”
    He watched the steady rise and fall of Justice’s chest. How many times had he laid his head on that chest and just listened to his strong heartbeat? “It doesn’t have to be a competition.”
    “Doesn’t it?” Ian murmured. “You have to choose one of us. Or have you already made that decision?”
    Panic tightened his rib cage, squeezing his heart so hard he felt actual pain. He couldn’t make a decision. Not again. He’d been cornered into a choice before—Justice and ACRO or nothing at all, and he’d chosen poorly. Clearly, his judgment was suspect.
    “I don’t know what to do, Ian. I’d rather ride out on my snow machine and meet Itor by myself than lose one of you.” He gave a bitter snort. “You’re right. I do run when things get real.”
    “And this is as real as it gets.” Ian scrubbed his hand over his face, and it didn’t escape Tag’s notice that his fingers were trembling. “I don’t want to lose you, Tag. I’ll do anything. I’ll share you with him if I have to. I can learn to like him. He is kinda hot.”
    Tag had a feeling that last bit was thrown in to test his jealousy factor . . . and oddly enough, he didn’t feel jealous at all. These were the two loves of his life in this room, and if anything, this felt right.
    Which was so wrong.
    He shoved to his feet. “I can’t talk about this right now.” He started to push past Ian, but the guy grabbed him, spun him, and put his back to the wall.
    “We don’t have to talk,” Ian growled. “But I have to do this.”
    He slanted his mouth over Tag’s. Somehow, Ian always knew what Tag wanted, and right now, he wanted comfort. Human contact. Reassurance that he wasn’t alone in being confused but still in love.
    And so did Ian.
    Tag’s tongue slipped between Ian’s lips, and that fast, the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees. Ian’s hands gripped his shoulders so hard that sweet pain shot through both Tag’s arms.
    “You know what made me fall for you?” Ian whispered against Tag’s mouth. “Life.”
    “What?”
    Ian spoke as he kissed his way along Tag’s jaw. “I didn’t feel alive until I met you. And you . . . you are life. I’ve never met anyone who just wanted to be normal. To have a life where you take the day off to rent jet skis or go to a concert in the park at dusk.”
    Tag smiled, the memories of their days at the beach and concerts seeming so distant, given the cold, the snow, and the fact that Christmas was just days away. “That’s why I fell for you , Ian . . . Oh, yeah, right there . . .”
    Ian’s hands had dropped to his ass, his mouth to his throat, and his erection was cozying up to Tag’s. “I felt safe with you. Needed. Things I hadn’t felt since Justice. You were full of life. You still can be—”
    Ian cut him off with a brutal kiss, as if it was the last one they’d ever share. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
    “I need you,” he murmured against Ian’s lips.
    Ian’s hands found his fly, ripped it open, and then Tag’s cock was in Ian’s fist. “I’m so going to fuck you.”
    No. He wasn’t ready for that. And weirdly, the fact that he hadn’t fucked Justice yesterday