I spent most of the week following Pride trying to avoid Enzo and Max. It wasn't fair to them, but I needed some time to process what we'd done and why it had felt so natural to me. It shouldn't have, but it did. I'd even offered to babysit for Freddie and Peter a few nights, saying they deserved some alone time, just so I could crash in the guest room at their house without feeling like a total mooch. And that's where I was when Freddie cornered me.

"You and Enzo have a fight or something?" he asked, tossing me a bottle of water as we watched Sophia run around the backyard, playing with her latest best friend ever. With the exception of this week, it seemed every time I came over she had a new best friend.

"No, why?" I asked, hating that our drama was obvious enough even Freddie had picked up on it. Lately, he'd been so wrapped up in the restaurant and his family he rarely noticed anything else. Luckily, he jumped to an argument rather than something closer to the truth. Then again, there was no logical reason for his mind to jump to us sharing the hottest night ever with Max, the man I'd gone out of my way to make sure everyone knew was not my boyfriend.

"Because both of you look like hell. And as much as Peter and I enjoy some one-on-one time in the evenings, we're going to have to start charging you rent if you keep staying here." He socked me in the shoulder, which was good because I was starting to worry this was the conversation where he told me I'd worn out my welcome. "Seriously, what's going on with the two of you?"

"It's not him," I said because it wasn't just him. It was all of us. That night was amazing, but it made me start thinking all sorts of shit I had no place dreaming about. And not all the dreams were good. I worried Max would find everything he wanted with Enzo and I'd be left in the dust.

"Then what is it? He's barely come into the restaurant, telling Frankie he's got everything he needs at the apartment." That itself wasn't odd, Enzo's primary job was marketing, so he didn't have to come into work unless we needed help on the floor. "And when he did come in, he hadn't shaved for a few days, his hair was a wreck, and he was snapping at everyone. Even Matteo."

Okay, now I understood the source of Freddie's concern. Enzo was always put together. He thought he was the plain one of the family, which was ridiculous because he often commented on how many people flirted with me and we were identical. The few times we'd gone camping, he'd raced to the bathroom the minute we walked through the door to shave and shower because he couldn't stand being unkempt. And he never snapped on anyone, even when we had it coming.

"I'll talk to him," I promised.

"Tonight, Tony," Freddie demanded. "This can't keep going on. Too much longer and Mama will figure out something's up. I'm not sure what happened between the two of you, but whatever it is, I'd lay money you'd prefer she not start snooping around."

I felt the color drain from my face. Mama could give a lot of private investigators a run for their money when she detected any of us keeping secrets. Still, talking to Enzo meant admitting everything I'd been trying to untangle in my mind since the morning I woke up in a mess of arms and legs on the living room floor with him and Max.

I debated whether I should talk to Enzo alone or if this was a conversation that called for all three of us. After all, if I had my way, what I had to say would affect all of us. No, I needed to talk to Enzo first. Then, if things went well, we could call Max and ask him to come over after work.

Freddie and I chatted a bit longer. He knew I was delaying the inevitable, but I needed just a little more time. A few more minutes with my brother without trying to figure out if he would hate us for what we were doing. Or might be doing. Hell, maybe Enzo would think it was all a giant mistake and it'd be a moot point.

After saying goodbye to Sophia and once again promising Freddie I'd sort out the situation with Enzo, I trudged my way to the car like a man on his way to the gallows. My feet practically dragged across the ground, knowing it was time to face a shitty situation. Rather than surprise Enzo when I walked through the door, I called him.

"Holy shit, you're alive," he answered on the first ring.

"Yeah, sorry I ghosted," I apologized. Shit. I didn't want to do this over the phone. "Listen, are you home for the night? I want to sit down and talk about what happened."

"We don't have to if it's bothering you," he offered. That was so like Enzo, always trying to make things easy for everyone else, never wanting to make waves.

"It's bothering you, so we do need to talk," I countered. "Look, I don't want to do this over the phone. Are you going to be there if I come home?"

"Yeah, I'll be here." He sounded distracted. I hoped his indifference was caused by him working on the new ad campaign rather than because he didn't want to face this any more than I did.

"You eat dinner yet?" If Enzo was as out of it as Freddie claimed, he hadn't eaten all day. It was normal for him to go all day without food then realize he was ravenous around ten at night. He let out an indecipherable grunt, which meant I was right. "I'm going to pick up something on my way. You have a preference?"

"Whatever you're in the mood for is fine," he told me. Most nights, we'd bicker back and forth over who was going to choose what to eat, but the distance in his answer said Enzo wasn't in a playful mood. Fine. I'd stop by his favorite deli and bring him his favorite pastrami on rye sandwich, even if it meant listening to him bitch because it was too big to eat all at once and the bread would get soggy if he tried saving part of it.

"Okay then. I'll be home in a bit," I replied as I turned the key in the ignition. My phone connected to the Bluetooth and my car was filled with the sounds of Enzo breathing across the line. Fuck. That shouldn't be as hot as it was. "Do you need me to pick up anything besides dinner on my way?"

"Nope," he responded curtly. "Can't think of anything since you haven't been around."

The dig hurt, but I had it coming. Hiding at Freddie and Peter's had been a shit move, and I realized it now. I wasn't a chickenshit, but when confronted with things like complex emotions, I cowered like a damn baby. I couldn't help it; I'd always been that way. Everyone assumed I must've had some traumatic break-up in the past to make me so anti-commitment now, but the truth was I was so afraid of what came after a break up I long-ago decided it'd be better to not get involved. Now, even without a relationship, I had to face the aftermath.

Fucking around was much harder when it was with more than one person, and one of the other participants was someone you couldn't imagine your life without. Both of them, really, because Max had become one of my closest friends since we'd started hanging out. Sure, the sex was great, but it was everything else I'd miss when he eventually moved on because someone else could offer him what I wouldn't. Not couldn't, wouldn't. Because I was a coward.

I banged my head against the steering wheel while I waited for the light to turn green. "Way to fuck up everything after you swore everything would be fine, Marino."

Since I'd already reached out to Enzo, I fired off a quick text to Max in hopes it wouldn't be for nothing.

You busy tonight?

The light turned, and I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat. I stared at the dark screen on my phone the entire time I waited for the old man behind the deli counter to make our sandwiches. When his grandson came out to flirt with me like he always did, I barely even said hello to him. With a huff, he disappeared into the kitchen again.

"You want soup?" the old man asked as he rung up my order. "You look like you're coming down with a cold. If my Silvia was here, she'd tell you to have the soup."

"Thank you, but I'm not sick." I pulled out my wallet and handed him my credit card. He held it between his fingers, narrowing his eyes as if he didn't believe me. This was the hazard of living in the same community your entire life; everyone thought they knew you, and sometimes, they took that whole “it takes a village to raise a child” thing a bit too far. Like well into adulthood. "I promise, Mr. Lorenzo, I'm fine."

"Then you work too much," he offered as another possible cause of my fatigue. "You tell that brother of yours it's not fair to work family so hard."

"I promise, Frankie's doing a great job making sure we all have time off," I assured him. With a huff, he swiped my card, tore off the receipt with more force than necessary and slapped it down on the counter. I was oddly okay with that because I was relieved the conversation had come to an end.

My phone finally buzzed with an incoming text as I entered the freeway. It killed me to leave the phone on the seat, but Max's response, if that's even who'd messaged me, would still be there once I was safely parked in the lot at home.

Depends on why you're asking.

Okay, so Max was pissed at me too. Lovely. I typed out a quick response then sat in my car, hoping he hadn't gotten busy again at work.

We all need to talk. I was an asshole, and I'm sorry.

The little bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen, indicating he was typing a message to me. Then they stopped. And started again.

Max: It's not me you owe an apology. You're right, you were a dick. You fucking promised him it wouldn't make things weird, Tony.

Me: I know. I'm home now, getting ready to talk to him.

Wait a fucking minute. If he knew I'd ghosted Enzo too, it meant they'd still been talking. My chest burned with the realization, and I struggled to breathe. You did this to yourself, asshole. Yeah, I had, but it didn't make it hurt any less to know they'd been able to lean on one another while I was off figuring out my own shit.

Max: He's a good guy. Didn't deserve the way you hurt him. You'd better figure out a way to make this right.

I stared at Max's message long enough the screen went black. With a tap, I brought it back to life.

Me: That's the plan. So, if I grovel adequately, you want to come over later?

I re-read my message and quickly sent another.

Me: Just to talk. Enzo isn't the only one I need to make things right with.

I waited to see if he'd reply. After five solid minutes, I realized I was being an idiot. Whatever he said wouldn't change what needed to happen before his possible arrival, so all I was doing was procrastinating. Again.

The apartment was quiet when I pushed the door open. I couldn't see any lights from the living room or kitchen, and I wondered if Enzo had gone to bed rather than talk. Then, I heard music playing from his bedroom.

I knocked, which was weird because we never knocked before barging into one another's rooms. "Hey, you in there?"

"Yep." Silence followed. When it became apparent he wasn't going to invite me in, I leaned against the wall, ready to wait him out, thumping my head against the wall. "You're going to leave a dent."

I let out a huff of laughter.

"It's not locked." I supposed that was more invitation than I deserved.

I turned the knob and peeked around the corner as I pushed his door open. I didn't miss the Club 83 T-shirt draped over the back of the chair Enzo sometimes sat in to read or work on projects when he didn't want to sit at his desk. I clenched my jaw until it ached, reminding myself I'd gotten us all into this situation and I had no room to bitch about him spending time with Max.

Enzo didn't look back at me as I set his sandwich on the corner of his desk. Rather than stand around like an idiot, I carefully removed the pile of clothes from the chair, ignoring the whiff of Max's cologne that curdled my gut. The two of them couldn't have planned this sort of torture, even if they'd known today would be the day I came begging forgiveness.

I watched as Enzo unwrapped his sandwich and started picking at the meat. "Thank you."

"It was the least I could do." God, how stupid did that sound? Of course it was the very least I could do to make up for being a dick. "Listen, I do want to talk about what happened."

"I'm pretty sure that much is clear to everyone," Enzo shot back, spinning around in his seat. "You were drunk, convinced Max it'd be fun to pull me in for a night of fun, then you freaked when reality slapped your hungover face the next morning. That sound about right?"

"Yeah, but I want to explain why I freaked," I told him. While I waited to see if he was receptive to hearing me out, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Please, Enzo, I get why you're pissed off at me, and I deserve whatever it is you're not saying right now. But I'm hoping you'll let me talk and at least consider what I have to say."

"Fine. Talk." He half-turned away from me, dividing his attention between me and the sandwich. He let out a soft moan around his first full bite, and I knew it'd been the right call for dinner.

My own sandwich was still sitting in the bag. Until I knew where things stood, there was no way I'd be able to keep it down.

"I didn't bail on you guys because I was disgusted or because I regretted what we did." Putting that out there from the beginning seemed the best tactic. Enzo's shoulders relaxed a bit as he continued devouring his sandwich, making me wonder when he'd last eaten. "I was confused as all hell, and I told myself I just needed a little time away to think things through. Originally, I'd planned on being back before either of you woke up, but the more I thought about what we'd done, the more it confused me."

In one of the biggest risks of the night, I rose from the chair, crossed the room, and kneeled in front of Enzo. Max had, after all, suggested I grovel for forgiveness.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Enzo asked, playfully shoving me onto my ass. I stared up at him, praying this was a sign we'd get over the hurdle.

"Enzo, I was scared shitless after what we did," I admitted, my voice shaking. I ran my fingers through my hair, twisting and yanking at the ends. It was easier to stare at Enzo's feet as I continued explaining my mixed-up feelings to him. "I'm not the guy who wants to stick around. Max knows that, and what we have together works. But that night, I realized how much is on the line if I keep being the good-time guy I've always been.

"Seeing the two of you together was amazing. Worse, it was right." God, this hurt to say. "When I woke up the next morning, Max was turned away from me. Sure, he had a hand on my thigh, but he was totally tangled up with you, protecting you, caring for you. And even though you were sound asleep, you looked so damn peaceful. I felt like the outsider catching a glimpse of the future, and I fucking hated it."

Enzo reached out to me, pulling my hand away from my hair. He didn't speak until I looked up into the deep brown eyes the exact same shade as mine. "Tony, I would never try to take him away from you. You have to know that."

"You can't take him away from me," I scoffed. "I've made it clear to him over and over I don't want a relationship. What we've been doing the past year has worked for me, but I know it's not what he wants. You can give him that."

"But I wouldn't, because he was yours first," Enzo reassured me. That was just like him. Even if the chemistry between them was undeniable, he'd never pursue a relationship with Max if he thought it'd hurt me. He always sacrificed what he wanted to make others happy. "And I'm sorry seeing us like that hurt you. I should've gotten up and gone to bed, but it felt right sleeping with the two of you. With both of you. Not just him, Tony, it was you too."

I sucked in a sharp breath and scrubbed a hand down my face. The need for distance started clawing at me again, but I stayed rooted to my spot on the carpet, unable to make a move in case Enzo interpreted it the wrong way.

"I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but if we're going to talk this out, we're going to talk about all of it." Enzo's voice was firm and steady, almost commanding. It was out of character for him, but I loved seeing him assert himself. "I can't explain why and don't really want to think too much about it, but I've had these...thoughts about you for a long time. I never said anything about it, because who would? No one wants to hear their brother has fantasized about them or used to watch them getting undressed late at night when they were younger. That's part of why I haven't dated much. Any time I got close to anyone, the little voice in the back of my head reminded me of you, and I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you behind."

"Oh, Enzo..." If he was telling me the truth, and I had no reason to doubt him, this wasn't some fleeting attraction for him.

"No." He held up a hand to silence me. "I don't want you to use that pity voice on me. We all have our crosses to bear, and this has been mine."

"But it didn't have to be, Enzo," I explained because what I felt was far from pity. It was longing. There was no way to take back the past, but those were years that could've been so much different for both of us. If this was a curiosity he needed to get out of his system, he could've done it long ago and moved on. He could've found someone and been happy.

"Maybe it did. Mama always used to tell us everything happened in its own time, that we couldn't rush whatever came next." I was pretty sure this wasn't what Mama was talking about, but I didn't correct him. "If it wasn't for Max, I'm not sure I'd have gone along with the idea. Even if it was just the two of us, I probably would've lost my nerve and backed down."

"So what happens now?" I asked. Wherever we went from here, it was obvious I couldn't be trusted to call the shots. If Enzo said I'd ruined any chance at a repeat performance, I'd go back across the hall and lick my wounds.

"We wait for Max and see what he has to say." Enzo tossed me the bag with my sandwich. "You should probably eat before the bread gets all soggy. And maybe grab a shower. You stink."

"You're one to talk," I teased. He didn't actually smell, but he wasn't pulling off the disheveled look, if that was what he was going for. "Were you afraid to get too close to your razor this morning?"

"Nope. Figured I'd try something different," he explained. He looked like he was about to say something else, but he quickly closed his mouth. His cheeks betrayed him, and I decided it was for the best he not say whatever he'd been about to. It would probably irritate me.

I tried to eat, but my stomach was fluttering with nerves, knowing things were better, but still not good. Max had a million reasons at this point to tell me to piss off, and only one I could think of to agree to hear me out. Whether he realized it or not, Enzo was in complete control of our potential future.