He snapped his gaze back to Donna. “What?”
She frowned before glancing at Tristan. “I feel like I’m missing something. What’s going on?”
Zach took a big gulp from his beer, wishing it was something stronger. “Nothing.”
“Then why do you look like you want to hit someone?” Donna touched his stiff arm. “What’s wrong with you?”
He couldn’t lie to her.
“I slept with him.”
In his peripheral vision, he could see Donna’s mouth falling open.
“Ah,” she said at last.
He looked at her, surprised by the discomfort in her voice. She had never reacted this way when they talked about their flings.
She smiled a little, but he knew her. His confession made her uneasy.
Zach frowned. Donna wasn’t homophobic. She had known for ages that Nick was gay and she had been always supportive of him.
“You’re uncomfortable,” he said.
She didn’t bother denying it. She winced, looking embarrassed. “Sorry. You know I’m not like that, but…” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Dammit. I’m a modern, open-minded woman. I don’t know why this…God, this is silly. I’m not bigoted. I’m not. It shouldn’t matter—”
“But it does,” Zach said quietly. In a way, he understood. He didn’t hold it against her. It was one thing to be open-minded when it concerned someone else, but when it concerned the man she was going to marry…There were certain unflattering stereotypes about gay men. All of them were bullshit, as far as Zach was concerned. However, not everyone shared that view.
“I don’t think less of you,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I don’t mind you sleeping with other people—it doesn’t matter if it’s a man or a woman. No difference to me.”
She wasn’t being entirely truthful, but Zach chose not to say anything. She was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that she was uncomfortable. Donna had always prided herself on being open-minded, practical and unprejudiced. And if she wanted to pretend that thinking about Zach in bed with another man wasn’t distasteful to her, he wasn’t going to argue.
“You just surprised me, I guess,” she said. “You never told me you were attracted to men, too.”
“Because I’m not usually attracted to men,” Zach said, rubbing his brow. “I experimented a bit in college before we got together, but it wasn’t really my thing. He’s—he was the exception.”
“Why?”
Leaning back against the couch, Zach sipped his beer and smiled. “You have eyes. Can’t you guess?”
“Bollocks,” she said. “You’ve worked with hundreds of handsome men before.”
Zach shrugged. “He just gets under my skin.” This was the understatement of the century. He took a swig from the bottle. “It doesn’t matter now. I slept with him. Past tense.”
“Past tense? Then why are you bothered that your brother is all over him?”
“I’m not bothered.”
“Right,” she said flatly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
The muscles in Zach’s jaw worked, heat rushing to his face. “Nick doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. Tristan will walk all over him.”
“Nick is twenty-three and can take care of himself. You’ve never cared who he has sex with.”
“There’s no sex,” he bit off.
He could feel her eyes on him, probing and assessing.
“You still want him,” she said at last. She didn’t sound angry—just surprised and more than a little disconcerted. Of course she was disconcerted: this wasn’t something that ever happened before. They were in a long-term relationship, sometimes they got laid while they were apart, and then they got back and joked about it together: that was how it was supposed to work. That was how their relationship had worked for ten years. Most people didn’t understand how they could be okay with a non-exclusive relationship, but it worked for them. It worked for them because they knew there were no feelings involved when they slept with other people. They knew they were the endgame for each other.
Neither of them was supposed to get hung up on somebody else. Especially not when their wedding was a month away.
“You still want him,” she repeated quieter. “Zach—”
Zach put the bottle on the floor. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just lust. I can control it.”
Liar, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Liar, liar, liar.
Chapter 22
At this rate, Tristan was going to have a multiple personality disorder.
He tried very hard to ignore the couple on the other couch. He tried hard to focus on the movie and the hot guy seated next to him. It didn’t work. Instead, he couldn’t help thinking of the quiet evening just a week ago when he’d been the one curled up against Zach as they watched the movie together. There was a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that just wouldn’t go away. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to be anywhere but here. He wanted to shove Donna off the couch, snuggle up to Zach, and press his bare foot against Zach’s thigh. He wanted to hear Zach say something sardonic while Zach’s hand stroked his foot. He wanted—