Just a Bit Unhealthy (Straight Guys 3)

And the worst part was, apparently Jared didn’t feel the same way. Apparently Jared was fine. More than fine. Apparently Jared was too busy snogging some Americans to miss him at all.

“Hi! Looking for someone?”

Gabriel flinched and turned his head. A blond guy was looking at him curiously, but there wasn’t even a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Here, across the pond, few people recognized him.

“Yeah, actually,” Gabriel said. “Jared?”

“I think he’s in the kitchen.” The guy motioned to his left. “I’m Shawn.”

Muttering his thanks, Gabriel headed there, his legs somewhat unsteady.

He came to an abrupt halt in the kitchen doorway.

Jared wasn’t alone. He had some guy—Oscar Mone—all over him. They were kissing. Jared’s hands were on Mone’s ass and Mone was moaning and practically rutting against Jared, his fingers in Jared’s hair.

For a long, painful moment, it felt like Gabriel’s heart stopped beating. He had trouble breathing. So it was true. It was all true.

He must have made some noise because Jared ended the kiss and turned his head.

Jared went utterly still. Their gazes locked and the noise of the party seemed to die away. Gabriel’s heart hammered in his ears.

“Hey, you’re Gabriel DuVal.”

Gabriel forced himself to tear his eyes away from Jared to look at Mone. He almost laughed, although amusement wasn’t the emotion he felt as he looked at the guy. It figured that the only person who had recognized him in the States would be Mone.

“Yeah, and you are?” Gabe knew he was being obnoxious and he didn’t care. He’d never claimed to be a nice person, and he wasn’t going to start for that jackass’s sake.

“This is Oscar Mone, my boyfriend,” Jared said, putting an arm around Mone.

Swallowing, Gabriel looked at his hand on Mone’s hip before lifting his eyes to Jared’s face. It betrayed very little. He couldn’t read Jared at all, and it hurt. It was never supposed to be that way. When he’d imagined—dreamed of—seeing Jared again, he’d never thought it would be like that. Jared wasn’t supposed to look at him with disinterest and have some peroxide blond plastered against him.

Gabriel pasted a smile on his face. “Nice to meet you. Can I steal Jared for a minute?”

Mone gave him a curious look but nodded and left the kitchen. When Mone passed him, Gabriel held his breath: he smelled of Jared’s cologne.

He closed the door after Mone and turned around.

Jared’s face remained impassive. “What are you doing here?”

Gabriel didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Claire thought he was at the training center with the team. Chelsea had a game on Boxing Day, and he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be in the States the day before. The coach would kill him if he found out. And Jared didn’t exactly look happy to see him. Everything he had planned to say seemed stupid now. Jared had moved on. Jared didn’t give a shit anymore. Jared had a brand new boyfriend.

“It’s good to see you, too, Jay.”

Jared averted his gaze. “Gabriel—”

“It’s nice to know you still remember my name.” His tone was becoming nasty, but Gabriel couldn’t stop. It fucking hurt. All these months, he’d been a mess, going through the motions without really caring, but apparently Jared was pretty damn happy. “Wow, you’re fast. I thought it would be at least a year before you started ‘loving’ someone else.”

Jared still wouldn’t look at him. “How is Claire?”

“She’s fine. We have a son, Jules.”

“Congrats,” Jared said briskly, walking toward the door. “I have to go. Oscar’s waiting for me—”

Gabriel caught his arm.

Jared’s muscles stiffened under his hand.

“Let go,” Jared said, his voice very even.

“Do you love him?”

Jared looked at the closed door. “Yes.”

“You’re lying.” He grabbed Jared’s shoulder and turned him around. “You’re fucking lying!”

Jared’s face was inscrutable, his muscles rigid under his touch. “I’m in a good relationship. Let me be.”

Gabriel tightened his grip. “Look me in the eye and say you love him. And I’ll go and never come back.”

Jared clenched his jaw. “He’s everything I ever wanted in a boyfriend.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Jared looked him in the eye and said, “I love him. I’m over you. I don’t love you anymore.”

Gabe sucked a breath in. He felt sick to his stomach.

“Prove it,” he whispered, hating himself a little for being so pathetic.

“How am I supposed to prove it?”

“Hold me. And I’ll know. I always knew.”

Some emotion flickered across Jared’s face. “That’s silly.”

“Prove it, then,” Gabriel repeated, firmer this time. “If you’re telling the truth, you’ve got nothing to hide, right?”

Jared didn’t move.

“Or do you?” Gabriel said, raising his eyebrows.

Pressing his lips together, Jared lifted his arms and put them loosely around him before quickly letting go—but Gabe grabbed his shirt. “Real hug. Or are you scared?”

Swearing through his teeth, Jared yanked him close and hugged him so hard he could barely breathe. Gabriel didn’t care: he melted against Jared, into him, wanting to hide in him, crawl under his skin and never let go. Cursing again, Jared squeezed him harder, and God, Jared’s scent, his arms around him, his strength—it felt so good, right and perfect on so many levels that he felt high. He’d been cold for so long. He felt warm now. Warm, cherished and loved.