Even in the dim attic, Liam could see Joey’s dark eyes grow even darker, pupils expanding. His heart pounded under Liam’s palm, and the muscle in the corner of his jaw jumped.

So, he hadn’t imagined the heat in Joey’s glance when he’d taken off his jacket and tie. Liam had to admit, it was damn flattering to be looked at like that by anyone.

But it wasn’t just anyone looking at him like that. It was Joey fucking Luciano — hard-partying golden boy of the New York Rangers, future NHL Hall of Famer, gorgeous, smart and talented, Joey Luciano — looking at him like he was everything he’d always wanted and never thought he could get. Whether he knew he was doing it or not, Joey was sitting there and offering himself up to Liam on a platter.

Merry fucking Christmas to me.

He’d been ten years old when Mrs. Luciano brought Joey home from the hospital, but by that point, another baby was barely news. Liam had been up to his knees in little kids.

Joey had been a background player in the tribe of wild children they’d been. Liam remembered him as a cute little kid, always in cahoots with Patrick, the youngest of the O’Reilly clan.

But hockey had a way of splitting kids up from their families young when they were good. Liam was good; Joey was better. Liam had been gone by the time he was eighteen, and Joey was eight. Joey had left for Michigan and the elite USA Hockey National Team Development Program when he was sixteen.

So, yeah, sure, he felt a little guilty lusting over someone the same age as his youngest brother. But if he were honest, it wasn’t the first time he’d looked at a half-dressed Joey and thought damn he grew up good.

He couldn’t deny the thrill of arousal he felt having Joey half-naked and hard under his hand. Joey had the perfect amount of silky black hair on his chest and forearms. A silky treasure trail disappeared into the ridiculous red polyester pants that did nothing to conceal an impressive erection.

If you’d asked Liam ten minutes ago, he would have said sex was the furthest thing from his mind. But the one-mile walk from the pub in the cold had sobered him up, and most of what was left was anger and confusion.

He felt an understanding and acceptance of Michelle’s actions lurking at the edges of his consciousness, but he didn’t want that right now.

What he wanted was to feel sorry for himself for a while. Between being forced off the ice and now fucking cuckolded in front of his family by someone he’d always regarded as a brother, he felt worthless and discarded.

He’d always done the right thing, the expected thing. And where had that gotten him?

Broken and alone.

It felt good to be wanted. He wanted someone to want him so badly. Even if it was a twisted childhood crush, or hero worship, or whatever. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time.

So, yeah, he was going to take what was on offer.

Liam spread out his hands and flicked a thumb across Joey’s nipple. Joey gasped.

“Anything you want to share with the class, Joseph?” Liam asked, licking his bottom lip. He hadn’t known Joey was into guys, but it was pretty obvious now.

Joey shook his head. “Liam,” he croaked.

Liam was mesmerized by the slide of his thumb over Joey’s nipple and the way it made Joey’s perfect abs tremble. He looked up to meet Joey’s eyes.

Joey sat back on his heels and tried to get up.

“Stay,” Liam barked, his mouth deciding for him.

Joey’s jaw dropped, and he nodded, settling back down on to the mattress.

Oh, that instant obedience did things to Liam.

The rattle of someone coming up the fire escape had them both turning towards the window. The unlocked window.

Joey tried to scramble off the bed. Liam stopped him with a hand on the back of his neck, fingertips digging into the surprisingly soft skin. “Stay,” he said again.

Joey settled back down.

It was a thrill having mouthy, bratty, swaggering Joey Luciano quietly obeying, eyes locked on Liam’s face. God. Liam couldn’t even put a name to how that made him feel.

Liam reached into his jacket for his wallet, his knuckles brushing over the velvet-covered ring box that he had planned on giving Michelle. Could you return engagement rings? He shook his head as if to physically dislodge thoughts of his train wreck of a relationship, and pulled a few bills out of his wallet.

He looked over his shoulder at Joey sitting half-naked on the bed, eyes following Liam. I’m going to hell, he thought, then fought the strong urge to bury his fingers in Joey’s thick brown hair and tilt his head up for a kiss.

That wasn’t what this was about. Not that Liam had any idea in hell exactly what this was about.

Liam met Nathan as he was climbing over the low sash of the window. A cold breeze followed him in, sending loose bits of paper and old leaves from autumns past skittering across the floor. The temperature was dropping as the sun went down.

Nathan carried two tote bags full of plastic tubs of food, a thermos Liam assumed had coffee in it, and a bottle of wine. No way had Nathan done all that himself.

“Grandma help you with this?” Liam asked, taking the bags from the kid.

Nathan nodded.

“Which one?” His mom and Joey’s mom both answered to grandma from any kid under twenty.

“Both,” he answered.

Both their mothers were used to feeding a family of athletes, throw in the fact that it was Christmas dinner, and they were dealing with drama, it wasn’t a surprise there was enough food for an army in the bags.

Nathan pulled the bottle of Sambuca out from his jacket.

He gave Nathan a ten. “Did the twins help?”

Nathan hesitated, then nodded. He was a good kid, short for his age and not particularly athletic but smart as a whip. Liam liked talking to him when he got the chance.

Liam gave him two fives. “Give these to them when no one else is around. And I’m going to check with your mother, so no trying to keep it.”

“Uncle Liam, I would never…”

“Yeah, right. I’ve heard it all.”

Nathan slipped the bills into his back pocket. “The Grandmas say you better come back soon.”

Liam sighed. He’d known they wouldn’t be able to hide forever. Eventually, he’d have to face the music. Fucking Christmas. But then again, why was he worried about what people would say? He’d done nothing wrong. He was the victim here. Still, he was sure somehow this was going to end up being his fault.

“Michelle and your Uncle Nico still there?”

Nathan’s eyes shone with barely suppressed glee at the soap opera. “Oh, yeah, and I can’t fucking believe it.”

Liam should probably say something about the cursing, but that was a lost cause in this family. “Jesus.” He ran his hand through his hair. Why wouldn’t she just leave?

Nathan settled against the wall to dish the gossip. The wind bit through Liam’s thin dress shirt, and he was intensely aware that every second he spent away from Joey the risk that he would come to his senses grew higher.

Liam rubbed his temples and shook his head. “Fucking awesome. Okay, kid, tell my mom I’ll be back eventually. I promise. I just need a little break. Remind her I took the damn red-eye from Seattle.”

Nathan nodded and stepped back onto the fire escape. “Oh, and Nana Jean said Joey’d better get his skinny ass back soon because he has to hand out the presents. It’s his year.”

Liam waved him away. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll both be back in an hour, tell her. If they give you any crap, cry. It might work. Okay?”

Nathan gave him thumbs up then scampered down the rattling cast iron stairs with zero regard for his personal safety.

Liam locked the window behind him and walked back to Joey.