“Dude, how do you even stay alive?”

Roman laughed richly as he let the hotel room door close behind him. “Great question. As much sex and sleep as possible.”

“I can see the use of at least one of those things,” Blane chuckled, clapping Roman on the back as he hugged him tightly. A chance to see his buddy was always worth it, since he often went a month or two without being able to make it to one of their regular gatherings.

“If you don’t see the use of both sleep and sex, you’re not getting enough of one of them. Which is it?”

Blane flipped him off and let him lead the way into the elevator, then leaned against the bar inside. Roman always had nice hotels—that was the perk of being a pilot with as much status as him. Blane forgot Roman’s explanations of it, because they tended to be laced with his own ego, and he was way too practiced at ignoring that.

“It’s not sex,” Roman grinned, leaning in. “You’ve been awfully quiet about that new boy toy.”

“He’s not a—” Blane started, then cut himself off and glared. He’d fallen right into Roman’s trap.

Roman patted his cheek. “Awww.”

Blane smacked his hand away and shoved him, then braced himself as Roman shoved back. Their brief tussle was brought to an end by the elevator slowing and arriving at the lobby, where they straightened themselves out and acted innocent strolling out of it.

Sometimes it still felt like high school when they got together, and he had to fight to remember that they were in this fancy-ass hotel because they had careers now.

“Anyway, yeah, don’t scare him off.” Blane glared at him. “Or hit on him.”

Roman raised his hands. “I won’t, man. It’s good to see you getting involved with someone.”

More so than anyone else, Blane thought Roman understood where he was coming from. Sex was great and all—and Roman was much more vocal about having it frequently with no strings—but they both craved the kind of affection and intimacy of letting their guard down with one person.

“Yeah. It’s good to be,” Blane admitted, stepping through the turning door of the hotel and leading Roman around the corner to the parking spot he’d finally found. In downtown Knoxville, it wasn’t easy. And then there were the fucking assholes who didn’t understand how to park, making it harder for everyone.

Blane managed to creep out of the parking spot he’d been almost jammed into within the mere fifteen minutes he’d been inside. Then it was off to the pizza place.

“Speaking of which,” Blane mentioned once he wasn’t fighting the urge to dent rude people’s bumpers, “how about that boy in… Singapore?”

“Nah.” Roman waved a hand in a now-familiar gesture that meant it had ended somehow—probably by him bringing up marriage a week in. Bless his heart, Roman simply didn’t get why guys ran the other direction as fast as their feet could take him.

“Just, nah?” Blane chuckled. “Man, do what we’re doing. Take it slow.”

“Slow?” Roman snorted. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Glacially. We aren’t even together. We’re fake-boyfriends for his sister’s wedding this weekend.”

Roman’s eyebrows couldn’t have climbed any higher.

“And we haven’t brought up the word yet. Not really.”

Roman was still silent.

“Oh, fuck off. We’re almost there.” Blane ignored Roman’s skeptical look as he found parking, then led the way into the restaurant.

They were there before the other guys, so they grabbed a table and ordered tap water all around, then started flipping through the menus. Blane sat facing the door so he could see them arrive and wave them over.

It wasn’t long before Falcon stepped inside, a tall and slender man walking beside him with the kind of poise he’d expect from a model. Oh, man. Roman’s in trouble. Blane half-rose and waved them over.

“Blane Winters,” Roman whispered. “You did not warn me.”

Blane didn’t have time to answer, so he just grinned at his friend. When Falcon arrived, he leaned down to peck Blane on the lips, then took the chair next to him. “Hey!”

“You made it,” Blane greeted, his cheeks flushing at the look Roman was giving him. “So this is Roman. I’m Blane.”

He shook hands with Falcon’s friend. “Oscar,” the man introduced himself, looking them both over.

Once the introductions were over, Blane found that Roman couldn’t have beer for work reasons and Oscar declined, too. So he ordered a round of Cokes, and they all picked up the menus with that awkward shuffle.

With Roman there, though, it wouldn’t be boring. After they ordered, he set his mind to conversation. “So, you’re the artist?” He grinned at Falcon. “What do you draw?” He had a way of setting everyone around him at ease—when he wasn’t trying to get into their pants.

“Whatever pays the bills,” Falcon told him. “Lately, animals—hence our meeting,” he glanced at Blane. “But I do cutesy cartoon merchandise online, and more serious gallery work. Nothing too high-concept, though. I like food.”

Roman laughed. “Smart. I like the approach.” Blane could tell he was already warming up. Unemployed, my ass, Blane thought.

Oscar stretched languidly, his glass in one hand as he listened in, but Roman wasn’t about to let him sneak under the radar. “And you?” Roman addressed Oscar.

“I’m a dancer. It’s much less sexy than it sounds.”

Roman raised a brow. “How much less?”

“The flexibility is a perk,” Oscar responded, making them all laugh. “But the rest of it?”

Roman grinned, and Blane could feel how much self-control it was taking him not to hit on him. “Is that your main job?”

“I’m lucky and young enough yet that it is,” Oscar said with a nod and a frank smile. “But eventually I’ll probably move into teaching.”

“Huh.” Roman nodded, looking back at Falcon. “And you two are friends?”

Oscar set down his glass. “Have been for a few years. We met at… was it your show?”

“No, someone else’s,” Falcon said. “I try to make it to everyone’s events and vice versa. It’s a nice little supportive community here.”

“I like that. Aviation can be cutthroat,” Roman admitted with a laugh. “Getting my current position wasn’t easy. And now I have the least seniority of any captain my age—not that there are many—and no family, so they send me to do all the last-minute stuff. Lots of filling in.”

Humble brag there, Blane observed, biting back his smile. He’d been wingman enough to know that Roman was fishing for interest from Oscar.

Falcon had been frowning for the last minute. He interrupted abruptly, “That must be stressful. Being on the road all the time. Hard to maintain relationships like that.”

Roman straightened up and stretched, shrugging casually. “Yeah, it is hard sometimes.”

“I’ve got some friends like that,” Blane chimed in to cut the tension, nodding at Roman since he knew the guys he meant. “One’s a musician. He was touring a lot until he met my buddy Nico. Had to revamp their whole lifestyles to make it work.”

“It’s going well for them, though.” Roman smiled to himself. “It’s cute to watch them. If… annoying. New couples. Ugh.”

“I know,” Oscar said, and Blane sensed he was just barely holding back a smirk. “They can’t keep their eyes off each other.”

“Fuck off,” Falcon told Oscar, which made them all break out laughing again.

Blane squeezed Falcon’s shoulder, then cheered as the garlic bread arrived.

It didn’t take long before they’d torn it apart.

“So are your friends all getting paired off?” Roman asked Oscar.

“Yes! Oh, God. It’s weird. I mean, it doesn’t always last, but some of them are starting to, like, get married.” Oscar pretended to shudder.

It took effort for Blane not to look pointedly at Roman.

Roman’s foot landed on his as he laughed, would-be casually. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. At our age. Weird.”

“Some of the guys in my company—two of them actually just got engaged,” Oscar smiled. “And others have boyfriends back home. It’s hard, though. On the road. I mean, probably not as hard as your job…”

“No, no. At least I usually get assigned to a particular region or routes, you know? When I’m not filling the gaps. So to speak,” Roman smirked.

Blane groaned and Falcon and Oscar laughed.

“But do you go to the same cities much?” Roman was asking Oscar.

Blane leaned into Falcon. “I was worried they’d feel like the third wheels, you know,” he murmured.

Falcon laid his arm along the back of Blane’s chair after a glance around the restaurant. “I know what you mean. I was glad you brought a friend, too. I wanted you to meet Oscar, but yeah, that would have sucked.”

Blane tried not to bristle as Oscar laid a hand on Roman’s shoulder. He’s hiding it, but Roman’s still hurting over that Singapore guy, knowing him. He itched to interrupt the rebound before it could happen.

“How was your day?” Falcon asked, distracting him.

“Oh. Um, normal,” Blane admitted. “Not much is happening. Sheila’s doing really well though, she’s moving to Philadelphia next week.”

“Aw, so soon! I bet the visitors will miss that.”

“Yeah. And your day?”

“Just hanging out with Oscar,” Falcon told him, drawing both of their gazes back to the others for a moment. “He doesn’t make it into town often.” Then, Falcon’s gaze dropped to Roman’s hand on Oscar’s arm. He cleared his throat. “Pizza’s here.”

Blane had the sense Falcon was as interested in keeping them apart as he was, but he wasn’t sure why.

Conversation flowed easily between them all over pizza, but every time Oscar started flirting with Roman, Blane would find some excuse to intervene before his friend could fall head over heels for yet another guy who would leave him—physically, this time, not just emotionally. Or, if it was the other way around and Roman was getting closer to Oscar, Falcon would interrupt.

Oddly, something itched the wrong way at Blane when that happened. When it happened again—Falcon brought up an art show when Roman was trying to talk about a museum he’d been to near Los Angeles—Blane finally cut Falcon off.

“Can I have a word?” At the curious gazes from the other two, Blane added weakly, “Wedding stuff.”

Falcon cast him an odd look, too, but rose from his chair. “Yeah, of course. Back in a sec.”

They strolled outside for a hint of cool, fresh air—as cool as it got around here until December, anyway. Evening had fallen, which helped.

“What’s up?” Falcon asked, his voice tight.

Blane sank onto the bench out front, ignoring the smokers on the other side of the doorway. “You were getting a little, um… tense there.”

“So were you.”

“Yeah.” Blane could admit it, but he wasn’t sure Falcon would like why. “I just think… they both travel a lot.”

“Yeah. It’d be weird to have our friends hook up and then hurt each other.”

Blane’s eyebrows rose. Roman might sleep around, but he didn’t deliberately hurt people’s feelings or lead them on. If anything, he scared them off. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think you’re getting a little protective of Roman, aren’t you? I guess… I’m that way with Oscar. He’s my best friend, you know?”

Blane softened and smiled at Falcon, reaching out to touch his knee. “Yeah. I get it. I don’t want Roman hurt, you don’t want Oscar hurt.”

“When you put it that way,” Falcon murmured, his shoulders sinking as he drew a breath. “Yeah.”

“But it’s none of our decision anyway.” Blane glanced around, then took Falcon’s hand, and to his relief, Falcon let him. “I like that you’re protective of him.”

“I think it’s natural. He’s been hurt before.”

“Yeah,” Blane murmured immediately, nodding. “So has Roman. I know he looks tough, but he’s got a soft heart.”

Falcon smiled at him, his dimples showing up at last. “Doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”

“Oh, shut up,” Blane grumbled as Falcon laughed. “Anyway, I guess… we have to trust them. They’re adults. If they hook up and make it awkward, we’ll deal with it later. It’s not like that kind of stuff doesn’t happen.”

“Does it with your friends?” Falcon asked.

Blane had to think for a second. ”Weirdly, no. We haven’t hooked up, even if there’s probably zero degrees of separation in our love lives. I don’t think we ever made an outright pact not to, it just… I don’t know.”

“So you and Roman…”

“No!” Blane exclaimed, then laughed. “I mean, not that he’s a bad guy, just—”

“No, no.” Falcon chuckled. “It’s like your brothers. Like me and Oscar. Just weird.”

“Exactly.” The tension between them had almost disappeared now. Then, Blane leaned in. “Why? Were you jealous?”

Falcon looked bashful for a moment, then looked away and cleared his throat. “So, uh. The wedding?”

Blane chewed his lip. Falcon was sending him all the right signals, but whenever he called him out on it, he changed the subject. It made it hard to focus on his thoughts. “Right. Did you want me to pick you up that morning? I’ll come early with you, I know you agreed to do setup.”

“Would you mind? You really don’t have to. You’re already doing me a huge favor,” Falcon told him.

Blane shook his head and smiled. “Nah, I’m having fun fucking with the head of a guy who hurt a guy I like a lot.”

Falcon’s brows drew together for a moment like he was trying to figure that out, and then he looked embarrassed. “Oh! Right. Uh, cool.”

Blane laughed under his breath and leaned in to kiss Falcon. Just briefly—it was the South, after all, but people didn’t usually fuck with guys his size. “You’re adorable. Let’s get back in before they start playing footsie.”

“Ew. Let’s,” Falcon agreed. “I’ll text you the rest of the details, huh? Make sure we get coordinating outfits…”

“Perfect.” Blane rose to his feet, and Falcon took his hand as they walked back in on Oscar and Roman laughing together about something.

I like Oscar. I just don’t want him hurting my brother, and I guess vice versa. When Blane thought about it, he found it sweetly endearing that Falcon had that side to him.

And, apparently, a jealous side.

Whatever he says—or doesn’t say—I think he feels the same way about me. Unlike Roman, trying his best to match up with everyone he met, Blane hadn’t felt this certain about anyone in a long time. But taking it at this pace was killing him.

Blane couldn’t wait for the weekend and the excuse to show Falcon what he’d get as his boyfriend, if all went well. But, on the other hand, thinking about it made the pressure ten times worse.

One day at a time.