Unwritten Law (Steele Brothers 1)

“Yeah, I think he’s harmless. It’s not like he followed me there. He was just as shocked to see me as I was him. And it worked out because Chris dumped me.”

“Wait … you’re still dating that guy?” Why’d he agree to go on a date with Reed if he was seeing Chris? He can barely handle one relationship. If you can call what Anders has relationships.

Anders shrugs. “We’re casual. Well, were casual. Apparently, he doesn’t like drama. Of all the guys I had potential of breaking up with on my own, and he beats me to it.”

His smile gives away his relief that he didn’t have to be the one to break up with Chris—or have me do it.

Anders dismissing the run-in with Kale this easily is a huge step. Normally, he’d go into panic mode and wouldn’t leave the house for a few days, convinced the dude is a stalker.

“What happened with Kale?” I ask.

“He was there with someone else, but apparently I’m still an asshole. What did you say to him when you broke up with him?”

“Just that he was too young for me … uh, you.”

“Eighteen is not that young.”

“Sure, what’s a decade between fucks?”

“What’s up your ass?” Anders snaps.

Not Reed, thanks to you. “Nothing,” I mumble but then I can’t help myself, apparently. “I think I fucked up.”

“How?” Anders grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge and takes a sip.

I lean against the bench. “You know how our teacher said the wrong name the first day of ninth grade, and I didn’t correct her? I was Dawson for the entire school year—”

Anders snorts. “Man, that was so funny.”

“She had to take attendance every day. Did she think the L on my name was pronounced as a D?”

He laughs. “Hi, I’m Dawson with an L.”

“I didn’t call her out the first time, and then it was way too late to correct her. This is like that, but with a hook-up.”

Anders shrugs. “Easy. Just say, oh, by the way, my name’s Lawson not Dawson.”

It’s not that easy, but getting into it with Anders isn’t a good idea. He could accuse me of identity theft. Then there’s the whole coming out to him thing which I’m not ready to do. I will eventually. Just not while I’m fucked up over a guy.

“Even after we’ve already slept together?” I ask.

“Didn’t you say it was a hook-up? Just move on. Plenty of pussy in the cattery … or something like that.”

“Fish in the sea?”

“Why would you compare women to fish? Isn’t that offensive?”

“I know you have no experience with women, brother, but trust me when I say they aren’t too keen on being referred to as pussy either.”

Anders shrugs. “Okay, so the way I see it, you either move on or keep up with the lie until you’re done having fun. Face it, Law, you’re not long-term material. You haven’t had a girlfriend for longer than a few months.”

“Hey, Olivia, Kirsten, and Dani all lasted a year … almost.”

“Barely. And when was your last girlfriend?”

“You know when my last girlfriend was,” I say.

Understanding crosses his face. “Have your fun with what’s-her-face and move on like you always do. You know what they say—if you’re going to be bad, be good at it.”

“You’re saying I should take advantage until it blows up in my face.”

“Exactly. Not like you’re risking a broken heart.” My brother has become a cynical bastard over the years. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed to get reacquainted with my hand. It’s been a while since we hooked up.”

“Dude, I didn’t need to know that.”

Anders shrugs and goes to his bedroom.

Knowing what he’s doing behind his closed door makes me want to leave the apartment, and there’s only one place I want to go. I shouldn’t take my brother’s stupid advice. It’s come from Anders. Not to mention it’s misguided because he doesn’t know all the facts. Does that stop me from taking it? Nope.

Like he says, the damage has already been done. I’ve already let Reed think I was Anders twice.

I almost grab my keys off the bench to leave when I stare down at the clothes Reed saw me in a few hours ago.

Change first.

Again, I wait for the realisation and reality of what I’m doing to sink in. I’m changing my outfit so the guy I’m hooking up with doesn’t know who I really am.

Where’s the guilt? Where’s the angel that’s supposed to sit on my shoulder and warn me against doing morally wrong things?

He’s probably bent over and getting rimmed by the devil.

Now there’s a nice thought.

As I arrive at Reed’s apartment and climb the steps to the second floor, there’s a moment of hesitance. I shouldn’t be here. It’s wrong.

My cock twitches.

Dammit. Perhaps part of my turn-on is the wrongness of it.