“What?” Darcy bit out in confusion and disbelief, and Bennet sucked in a sharp breath.
Gleefully, Will pressed. “Mmm, can you picture it? Me with my hands all over him, other parts of me turning him inside out?”
“S-stop.”
Icy air slithered under his collar, stealing whatever warmth he still clung to. He’d never been ashamed of being sex-positive, of liking sex, of enjoying it with a consenting partner. Until now. God, if he could go back in time . . .
He wanted to turn around and look Darcy in the eye, explain that it hadn’t meant anything. It’d been physical, nothing emotional about it. Not like last night.
“I judged you too quickly. I thought you were a good guy, but I was clearly wrong. Sleeping with you was a mistake.”
“Some mistakes can’t be fixed,” Will said, echoing something Bennet had once heard from Darcy.
Again, Bennet heard a silent, rhetorical ‘can they?’ He remembered his own obstinate thought: some mistakes couldn’t. Once the damage was done, it was done.
How he wished otherwise. How he wished he’d been kinder to Darcy.
That should sufficiently ruin you for him, Will’s eyes said, boring into his.
Everything grew cold and heavy, like a lightness he’d not fully realized was there—had not nearly appreciated—was slipping away. And now it might be too late.
Darcy spoke, voice roughened. Pained. “Bennet, check on Lyon. Will and I have some unfinished business.”
Lyon. He needed to check he was okay.
But Darcy . . .
The lines of his face were stern, eyes hard on Will. He didn’t even glance at Bennet.
Bennet’s chest felt hollow. His throat hurt. He’d spent all night trying to understand his feelings and they were so simple.
And now, so in vain.
They might find a way to forge on as friends, but anything more . . .
“Will you come by after?” Bennet croaked.
Darcy kept his eyes trained on Will. “I don’t think that’ll be possible. I have to drive back to the city.”
“Of course. Thanks for dropping everything and bringing me back to Lyon.”
Darcy did look back then. His somber eyes held Bennet’s for a long, serious beat that had his heart sinking.
Eyes burning, Bennet turned and crossed the road.
That was that then.
Darcy would never look at him like he lit up his world again. Bennet would never feel the giddiness those looks gave him.
Outside the attic apartment, he slumped on the top step and raked both hands through his hair.
In the end it was not Darcy’s lack of pride that was destroying any chance of them. It was Bennet’s faulty, snap judgements and their consequences.
He was so goddamn sorry.
It took a few minutes before Bennet pulled himself together enough to enter the apartment.
He found Lyon curled up stiffly at one end of the couch, hair a mess like he hadn’t slept well, phone next to him. He gulped hard, seeing Bennet, and flushed to the roots.
“Are you okay?”
Lyon nodded. “Fine. Perfect.”
He looked and sounded okay. But his gaze kept bouncing guiltily around the room.
“It was just a kiss.”
Bennet shut his eyes briefly at the mumble. “Just a kiss.”
“Yeah, really, it’s no big deal. Some bad luck someone caught it on their phone.”
He sagged against the arm of the couch. “Look me in the eye and tell me who kissed whom.”
The skin under Lyon’s eye twitched. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does. If Will imposed himself on you—”
“He didn’t.” Lyon bowed his head. “He didn’t. I tried to kiss him.”
At the very least, Will hadn’t been lying about that. “He’s forty-seven.”
“I’m the age of consent.”
“In the eyes of the law, maybe. Not in mine.”
“Are you upset because you still like him? You said—you promised—you were over him.”
“I’m upset because you could have gotten hurt. Will Wickham is a manipulative man. I worry that you had anything to do with him.”
“I bumped into him after visiting some mates. We started chatting outside the inn and, I dunno, he’s hot. I was horny. I tried to kiss him and it shocked some passersby.” He shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Whatever?” Bennet laughed tightly. “This is not a ‘whatever’ moment, Lyon. You’ve got to learn to judge situations better. For your physical, mental, and emotional wellbeing.”
“Because he’s older? You liked him and you liked Darcy, and they’re both older than you.”
“I’m in my thirties. I’ve experienced more of the world. I’m at an age where such a gap doesn’t matter. You’re still a child.”
“I’m not a child,” Lyon said petulantly.
“Kissing your brother’s ex? Yes, that’s such a mature move.”
Lyon launched off the couch, flipping him the bird.
“Lyon, you’ve got to see why this is not okay.”
“You don’t like it,” he said, marching to the coat stand. “Got it.”
“Everything has consequences. Your little kiss might have been fun for you, but think how it affects others.”
“Like you?”
“I spent all morning sick with worry. I thought he’d taken advantage of you.”
“Well, now you know it wasn’t like that.” He stuffed a foot in one of his shoes.