Secrets Of The A-List Box Set, Volume 2. Cat Schield

      Something flashed across her brother’s face. Disappointment? Concern? Anguish? Was her caring, sensitive brother really convinced that she was doing the right thing?

      “Of course I like Thom,” he said quietly. “And I’m not a snob. I just want you to be sure.”

      “I am sure. I’m doing the right thing,” she said. “You’ve been friends with him for years, too. You know Thom is a good man. He’s just a lousy public speaker.”

      Rafe made a sympathetic face. “No doubt he’s going to be reminded of his appalling speech at the engagement party for a while?”

      “You know what the press is like,” she said and sighed. “But I’m sure he’s tough enough to take it. Although he did shut down his social media accounts as a precaution.”

      “But not you?” Rafe queried and eyed her cell phone on the table. “You still tweeting our every move on this trip?”

      She grinned. “Have to keep my followers happy. And it takes the heat off your fight with Luc and any nosy interest in Dad’s condition. Thom isn’t as savvy when it comes to turning bad publicity into good.”

      “But you are?”

      She chuckled. “I’m a pro. I just told him to keep his head down and be quiet for a couple of weeks. He liked that idea. You know Thom...he’s not one to hog the limelight. He really is too sweet for words. He’s kind and considerate, and he really wants to marry me.”

      “Of course he does,” Rafe said. “Who wouldn’t?”

      Elana managed a tentative smile. “Exactly,” she said and got to her feet. “And now, I have to get back to shopping. I have some serious lingerie decisions to make. I mean, do I go for demure ingenue, or sexy whore?” She pointed to a rail of gossamer-thin negligees, silk robes and satin corsets. “Which one do you think Thom will like?”

      Rafe swallowed hard and adjusted his collar. “I’m sure he’ll like whatever you choose.”

      “But which one?” she teased.

      “White,” he said and smiled a little. “And demure.”

      “Spoilsport. You’re only saying that because no one likes to imagine their little sister getting down and dirty on their wedding night. Right?”

      One thing Rafe didn’t want to think about was Elana having sex with Thom.

      Because he wished he was the one in Thom’s bed.

      He wasn’t proud of his feelings. Thom was engaged to his sister. Thom was his friend.

      And he could never tell Elana how he felt. She wouldn’t understand. As close as they were, as much as his baby sister loved him, Rafe knew it was a line that couldn’t be crossed. Not again.

      A memory, sharp and painful, banged around in his head. He’d tried to ignore it. Tried to forget. But in that moment he was back in private school. Senior year. He’d been quiet and studious back then, and although he’d had a few friends, he mostly kept to himself. He’d already come out to his family, and although he knew they’d been upset by the news, the subject was never broached. His father wouldn’t discuss it, and Rafe was happy to deal with his dad’s silence over disapproval or rejection. His friends accepted him for who he was, including his best friend, Thom Scott. Thom was originally Elana’s best friend growing up, but she’d often included Rafe in their group. When Elana started hanging out with more popular kids at school, that left Rafe and Thom as the remaining musketeers. They studied together. Hung out together. Did everything together. Despite the fact that Thom dated girls, Rafe suspected his friend had other feelings, too. He’d never said it, never confronted Thom, but he sensed something whenever they were together, and the feeling wouldn’t go away.

      And then, one night, when they were in his room cramming for a math exam the following day, Rafe had moved closer, closed his eyes, placed a gentle hand on Thom’s shoulder and then leaned in, kissing him. Softly, just on the corner of his mouth. Just a small, featherlight kiss. Feelings had bombarded him. Thom’s skin, the scent that was so achingly familiar. Thom had pulled back immediately, saying Rafe had gotten it wrong. He wasn’t like that. He wasn’t gay. He liked girls. He’d never been with a boy. And then Thom had bailed from the room as though his feet were on fire. Rafe had been racked with guilt. He needed to explain, to apologize to his best friend. He’d mustered the courage to call, but Thom hadn’t picked up his cell. He even ignored him both before and after the math exam.

      Two days later Rafe headed to Thom’s house. Thom’s parents were out, and his friend was alone. At first, he wasn’t sure that Thom would let him in, but he did. And they talked, sharing a few beers that Thom had swiped from his dad’s stash. Rafe kept apologizing, and Thom appeared to understand. But then, something changed in the way Thom was looking at him. Rafe didn’t misinterpret it. He knew what he saw in his friend’s eyes. And fueled by a sudden overwhelming desire and a deep surge of longing for his best friend, he kissed Thom again. And then again. Putting his arms on his shoulders, covering his mouth with his own. And suddenly, Thom wasn’t resisting. He was kissing him back! Then they were upstairs in Thom’s room, alone, rolling around on the narrow bed, mouths, tongues, breath all mingling. It felt so good. So right. Their clothes were quickly shed, and they were naked, skin against skin, sweat and sweat. And finally, they were together, one person, connected in the most intimate way possible, driven by an inexplicable need, a desire that came from a place Rafe hadn’t known existed. Thom accepted him, eager but nervous, and Rafe took his time, teaching, schooling, showing Thom how good it could be. It was hot and erotic and mind-blowing. It was sex and pleasure unlike any he’d known before. And for Rafe, it was so much more. It was as though he’d finally found what he was searching for. That one person. His other half.

      When it was over, when they had both sated the driving, almost primal need inside each other, they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, stretched out on the narrow bed.

      Thom was still sleeping when Rafe kissed him goodbye before leaving.

      When he’d tried to talk to Thom the next time he saw him, his friend had looked at him blankly, insisting he remembered nothing. It hurt deep into his bones. Maybe it was the beer? Not that they’d been off-their-face drunk. True, Thom wasn’t much of a drinker back then. Or perhaps Thom was simply experimenting and had worked out that he was straight, after all. Maybe he was embarrassed that things had gone so far. Maybe Rafe had imagined the whole thing after a few too many beers. No, he knew what had happened between them. But he couldn’t force Thom to come out. Everyone had to walk their own path. Rafe knew firsthand how difficult it was to live an authentic life when surrounded by judgment and disapproval, even from the people who loved you the most. And Thom’s parents weren’t as young or accepting as his own.

      After that, for several years, Thom distanced himself from their friendship, only hanging out when Elana was present or to play the odd game of tennis, and Rafe didn’t push the issue. Nor did he mention their night together ever again. Not to anyone.

      And now Thom was about to marry his sister and would be Rafe’s brother-in-law.

      Complicated didn’t half cover it.

      He’d wanted Thom back then.

      And he wanted him still.

      But he loved Elana and would never do anything to hurt his baby sister. So he kept his feelings, and the past, well hidden. It was better for everyone. Even if he did know that both Elana and Thom weren’t being entirely true to themselves. And even if it did hurt like hell.

      “Why don’t we ditch this place and go and have lunch at the fanciest restaurant we can find that doesn’t have the name Marshall attached to it?”

      Elana’s voice jerked him out of his maudlin thoughts. He got to his feet and smiled. “Good plan.”

      “I know just the place,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Oscar’s,” she said—one of the best places in that part of the city.

      Rafe