“Yeah! You see that? Everybody see what my man Brady did there? He just performed a fucking miracle on the field! Nobody else coulda thrown that pass. Greatest of all time, baby!”

The drunk guy at the bar was cheering loud enough to be heard over both the din of the packed restaurant and the cheering of the crowd on the bar’s big-screen TVs, which was of course tuned to the late-season Patriots game. The guy’s absolute glee was enough to make the three men seated in the back booth roll their eyes and trade grins.

“Glad somebody’s happy,” Sean Cook remarked, staring down at the page of notes he’d made over the past two hours of sipping beer and talking Russians.

“You’re not happy to be here, Cooksy?” Cort demanded, tilting his beer bottle to his lips. “That hurts, man.” He set the bottle down and clapped an offended hand to his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sean sighed. “Just once, Cortland, I wish you’d call and offer to buy me a beer that didn’t come with a side order of me doing semi-legal investigations for you. That’s what got you canned in the first place, remember?”

Cort grimaced. “I promise you, after all this bullshit is over and Cam is safe, Seaver and I are going to take you out for twelve beers. And we’ll even cart your drunk ass home to your wife,” he vowed.

“Hell yes. Twelve imported beers,” Bas agreed. “And the biggest steak in Boston.” In truth, he’d offer to pay Sean a fucking fortune for the help he was giving them, if he thought the guy would take it.

“Also, just for the record,” Cort added with a smirk. “I was never officially canned. I quit.”

Bas rolled his eyes at the man sitting next to him. “A technicality, as I heard it.”

“No shit. You quit like two minutes before you would’ve been canned. And I’m taking you up on the twelve beers and the steak.” Sean hesitated, then added, “But, ah…Stacey moved out.”

“Are you kidding?” Cort turned serious. “You’re separated? You guys were solid!”

“I thought so too. But it’s been a long time coming, I guess. Too much stress at the job and then coaching the kids’ sports teams in my off time, never made time to spend with her, never took an interest in her work. The whole nine.” Sean waved a hand through the air. “Pretty sure we’ve all heard this song before.”

Cort nodded, brow furrowed. “Yeah. A career in law enforcement takes its toll on a marriage. But I’m still sorry.”

“‘Preciate that,” Sean said with a sad smile. “Between that shitstorm at home, and Agent Porter breathing down my neck at work, it hasn’t been a fun few months. But the new year is almost here, right?” He raised his beer bottle in an ironic toast and took a deep drink. “Onward and upward.”

Bas and Cort exchanged a look, and Bas made a mental note that when this thing with Alexei was over, he was going to find Sean Cook a very high-paying job at Seaver Tech. Maybe he’d make him Cort’s boss, just to mess with Cort. The idea had him fighting a grin. He’d have to ask Drew how they could accomplish that, next time they…

His brain stopped short.

Next time they, what? Hung out? Yeah, right.

With a sigh, Bas sipped at his own beer. Given the way he’d completely lost his cool at Drew’s house earlier in the day, he couldn’t imagine they’d be having another pleasant video game night anytime soon, and the thought of that - of losing something so essential he’d always taken it for granted - made him panic. He’d spent the afternoon trying to make his mind focus on the conversation, to take solace in logic, planning, action, but it wasn’t working.

“So, the Paterkin guy mentioned something called the Collier Project?” Sean tapped his pencil against his paper. “What do we know about that?”

“Not a damn thing. My assistant checked our archives, and there’s nothing by that name,” Bas told him. “Besides which, Margaret’s been at Seaver since my dad founded the place, so if it were a big thing, she’d remember. It’s possible that Collier was a contractor we worked with, or a contact person for a company. We’ll need to dig deeper. Margaret offered to get started this weekend, but I didn’t want to worry her. I told her it could wait until Monday.”

Sean frowned. “There’s nobody else at the company who could research it for you?”

“Maybe? I have a few people I trust completely, but it’d be like looking for a needle in a haystack for anyone who hasn’t been at the company since the early days. And there are several long-term employees who might recognize the name, but if Paterkin is actually Alexei or works for Alexei, and the Collier project is probably one of the jobs my dad did for SILA, I really don’t want to call attention to it.”

“Right.” Sean tapped his paper again, then looked up at Bas and grimaced. “Then I think you need to tell Margaret to work this weekend.”

Bas lifted his eyebrows in surprise, the knot of tension he’d been carrying in his stomach all afternoon tightening a fraction.

“Do it. Buy her a yacht, if it makes you feel better,” Sean said grimly. “But this doesn’t look good.”

Cort sighed. “You think Paterkin - or Alexei - will threaten to go to the press with info on Seaver Tech’s dealings with SILA?”

Bas stared at Cort. “What? You never mentioned that as a possibility.”

“I was hoping Cooksy would have a different read on it.”

“Actually, I do. It sounds to me like he was initially trying to recruit Sebastian, much the way he did with his father.”

“Recruit me? Yeah, right.”

“No, seriously.” Sean leaned back slightly in his seat and looked at Bas fully. “It’s better for Alexei’s image inside his organization to show that he can make you kneel to him than to actually crush you. If he could acquire you as an asset, he could still get tech from you. Best case scenario, he could have lured you into working with him by offering you money.”

Bas snorted. He was confident he could buy and sell Alexei’s organization ten times over.

“Okay, fair enough. Not a huge inducement for you,” Sean agreed. “So, second-best scenario, he threatens you and gets you to work with him that way.”

Bas’s stomach shifted uncomfortably. “Threatens me how?”

“Well, it could be with a media scandal about your dad, like Cortland suggested.” Sean shrugged. “Whispers about your father’s connection to SILA could cause some trouble for you - stock prices dropping, losing government contracts, that kind of thing. But Alexei can’t say too much without implicating himself. And your father’s death absolves him of most guilt in the court of public opinion.” His mouth twisted in sympathy. “And I think Alexei knows that.”

“So, what then?” Cort demanded.

Sean rubbed a hand over his chin, scratching at the stubble. “Well, I suppose the best thing would be to threaten you some other way - a physical threat maybe? Breaking your kneecaps unless you comply? Because he knows you won’t risk involving the police, and once he gets you to do even one thing for him, he’ll own you the very same way he owned your dad.”

Christ. The very idea made him sick.

“Senator Shaw has information on Alexei and SILA,” Bas reminded Sean. “Enough that they’ve backed off for a few weeks now.”

“Yeah, but that information implicates Shaw, as well as Alexei. Will he use it to prevent a scandal for Seaver Tech?” Sean shook his head. “To save his kid’s life, sure. Maybe the guy has the stones to hang himself to save his kid. I know I would. But to keep Seaver Tech from going under? Nah.”

It made sense. Frankly, he was surprised Shaw had even pushed back against the Russians to save Cain. The guy wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy… or particularly loyal.

“So, if we think he’ll plan to beat me into working with him, maybe I need to get him to make a move? Come at me, try to force my hand, and trap him when he…”

“Wow, ready to jump right in!” Sean said. He downed the rest of his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sadly, this isn’t a Lifetime movie, and the FBI doesn’t like to use civilians as bait unless it’s the only option. Besides, Alexei’s likely had Plan B and Plan C in his pocket, ready to go. The very best thing you can do is stay vigilant, and don’t take chances.”

Chances, like Drew going out on a date. Bas felt his anger rise again, along with something else that made his stomach clench. Something pitifully like jealousy.

Was Drew really so excited about this Mark guy that he couldn’t cancel or at least postpone his love-fest while they were being hunted by a psychopathic Russian criminal?

Bas ground his teeth together and breathed through his nose, remembering the sand dollar keychain he’d seen hanging from a hook in Drew’s cabinet that morning. Drew had kept the damn thing, even after it broke, though he’d let Bas believe it was gone. Kept it, and put it back together almost seamlessly, so you could hardly see the crack. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

But if it did, why the hell was Drew out on this date?

Emotions were fucking impossible. No logic, no clarity, no way to forge a path through them. He could barely get a handle on his own feelings, let alone trying to suss out Drew’s. He needed to stick to the things he was good at.

“Cook, I can help. I can try to access his system.”

“I thought you already did that, and there was no sensitive information online.”

“Well, yes, but I can try again. Maybe bribe someone to get me some login credentials. Or better yet, someone to gain me access to the offline server where the real goods are kept.”

“What?” Sean stopped himself, shaking his head. “Let me make sure I understand what you’re suggesting here before I go off. You want me to let you, an untrained civilian who’s so well-known his face is plastered all over checkout stands from coast to coast, gain physical access to SILA’s headquarters and their servers?”

Well, when he put it that way…

“No way,” Sean continued firmly. His eyes pinned Sebastian in place. “You think he’s not monitoring you, waiting for you to do just that? No. If you want me to help you - and I want to help, Sebastian, I do - you need to let me handle this my way. I don’t want you to do anything more strenuous online than updating your Facebook status. No hacking. No traces. Not even a Google search about this. Got it? I can operate with a certain amount of anonymity, look into shit and make it seem like the low-level kind of surveillance we’re always doing on organizations like SILA. But some anonymous hacker starts knocking shit around is going to look suspicious, and Alexei will know it was you.”

“What? Knocking shit around? You’re kidding me, right? I’d be in and out before they knew I was there. I did it before.”

“You wanna bet your life that your luck will hold? Your friends’ lives? Come on, Seaver. Work with me.”

Bas fumed. “I need an outlet, Cook. I need something to focus on. Let me help.” Before I have a nervous breakdown and do something stupid, like kidnap Drew from his date and hold him prisoner until we work out our shit.

Maybe naked.

“The only help I need from you is contacting Margaret and asking her to send me information on every project your dad worked on - nothing his team handled, only the projects he spearheaded himself - for all the years he was in contact with Alexei. I’m pretty sure your dad would have wanted to be the only one with eyes on the projects he was sharing with SILA.”

“Fine. I’ll do it now,” Bas said, pulling out his phone and typing a brief message to Margaret.

“Good. Once she gets me the information, I’m going to cross-reference it with all of Alexei’s known aliases and associates, including this Paterkin guy, and any mention of a Collier project.”

“You need help?” Cort asked. “That’s a big job.”

“Nope. The fewer people in the loop on this, the less likely I am to attract notice from the powers that be.” Sean rolled his eyes. “And besides, I have a lot of free time in the evenings these days.”

A waitress in a dark-green Lola’s t-shirt approached their table and started loading their empty bottles onto her tray. “Get you boys another round?”

“Yeah,” Cort said, glancing at Bas. “I’ll have another. And maybe an order of guac and chips.”

Bas nodded.

“Not me. I’m out. I’m picking up my kids from a birthday party and bringing them to Stacey’s. All hyped up on sugar and ready to play.” Sean smirked as he reached for his wallet.

“No way are you paying,” Bas said, putting a restraining hand on Sean’s arm. “Jesus. You’re risking your career helping me out.”

Sean looked at Bas for a minute. “I’m risking my career because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Either way,” Bas said quickly. “I’m buying your beer.”

Sean snorted. “Have it your way, Seaver.” He stood, shoving his wallet back in his pocket. He grabbed his jacket from the seat and his notes from the table. “I’m not kidding. You guys need to stay out of this and let me work. Trust me. Do nothing about this, hard as that is.”

Bas studied the wood-grain print of the Formica table for a second, then looked up at Sean. He did trust the guy, not only because Cort trusted him or because he’d helped them in the past, but because there was something innately trustworthy about him. That didn’t mean he agreed with everything the man said.

“Yeah, okay. Twelve beers,” he reminded Sean, extending his hand.

“Counting on it,” Sean said, shaking Bas’s hand firmly.

Sean clapped Cort on the shoulder, then lightly slapped the side of his face twice. “Stay safe, boys.”

After he’d walked away, Bas sank deeper into the fake-leather cushion and sighed. Cort moved to sit across from Bas and studied him for a moment.

“He’s a good guy,” Bas offered.

“The best. You gonna do what he said?” Cort wore a knowing smirk.

Bas sighed, then nodded, making up his mind on the spot. “Only because he managed to convince me that I’d put everyone at risk if I didn’t. But I don’t like it,” he added sourly. “Being benched when this is something I do better than…”

“Better than everyone else?” Cort finished, when Bas cut himself off mid-thought rather than sound like an asshole.

Bas flushed. “Well, yeah. It’s not conceit, Cortland. It’s what I do.”

Cort nodded, then looked at Bas thoughtfully. “You know, before we met, I had this whole idea of you in my head as an arrogant, entitled asshole.”

“And then I proved you wrong.”

“Well, first you proved me right by being a total jerk when we were back on St. Brigitte,” Cort told him, eyes dancing. “But yeah, then you’ve proven to be not so bad.”

The waitress delivered their beers at that exact moment, and Bas glared across the table at the man who was almost his brother-in-law before replying. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were an insensitive idiot who was either gonna get my brother killed or break his heart.”

Cort smirked and took a pensive sip of his beer. “And yet, I’m the guy who’d protect Cam with my life, and you aren’t particularly arrogant or entitled.”

Bas batted his bottle back and forth across the table, from hand to hand. “But still an asshole?” he joked.

Cort closed his eyes briefly and smiled. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes I feel like one.” He narrowed his eyes. “You know why everyone was on the plane the day of the crash?”

“Fate?” Cort suggested.

But Bas shook his head. “They were there to celebrate my engagement. To Amy.” Cort blinked, and Bas elaborated. “Amy McMann, Drew’s sister.”

“Yeah, I know. Cam’s talked some about it. I’ve seen pictures.”

“Right.” Bas took a sip of his beer.

“Must’ve been hard for you,” Cort said slowly. “Losing your fiancée on top of everything. But what does that have to do with you being an asshole? You didn’t cause the crash, Seaver.”

“No. Nope. I didn’t. But if it hadn’t been for me getting engaged, they wouldn’t have been there. Drags at me, you know?” And maybe it always would, even though Drew didn’t hold him responsible.

Cort cut him off with a shake of his head. “You and your brother. Seriously. Buncha martyrs.”

“Pardon?”

“You know, the first night I met Cam, he told me he was guilty because he was supposed to be on that plane!” Cort said, almost amused. “Like if he’d been there, he could have psychically known the engine had been tampered with.”

“That’s stupid,” Bas said, stunned. “I had no idea he felt that way.”

Cort shrugged. “I think it was mostly just some latent guilt. I think he knew it wasn’t reasonable even then. Whereas you seem to have convinced yourself that it’s totally reasonable.” He shook his head. “It was a tragedy, Bas. It was murder. It wasn’t your fault, even a little bit. If he hadn’t seen this opportunity and taken it, maybe he would have had Jack tamper with a car instead, and killed a bunch of innocent people on the road along with your parents. Or something else entirely.” He shook his head. “There’s no knowing.”

Bas stared moodily at the table. “That’s what Drew said,” he admitted.

“Yeah? Then why are you so determined to make this about you?” Cort wondered.

“I’m not determined. It just…” Bas blew out a breath and looked Cort in the eye. “I wasn’t in love with Amy.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen. Maybe for Cort to narrow his eyes in judgement, maybe for flames to erupt… something dramatic and scary.

Instead, Cort just nodded sadly. “That sucks. Was she in love with you?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Bas said. “We had things in common. Friends. Family expectations.”

“People get married for lots of reasons,” Cort said. “Bas, you didn’t cause the crash because you weren’t head-over-heels for her.”

Bas bit his lip. It sounded so ridiculous when Cort said it like that. “I know,” he said finally. “I do. But I still feel like I need to get justice, you know? Like I owe them that. Before I can do… anything else.”

“Anything else, like… fall in love?” Cort guessed, and Bas’s eyes flew up to find Cort watching him steadily. “Sebastian, you don’t owe anyone penance here,” he continued quietly.

“Feels like I do.”

Cort shook his head. “So, like I said, I used to think you were an arrogant, entitled asshole.”

“We’re back to that?” Bas rolled his eyes and sipped his beer.

“It was easier for me to think that, back when I thought Damon was dead and maybe you had paid someone to cause the crash and kill your parents.”

Bas winced. He remembered when Cort had accused him of that a few months back. It wasn’t any easier to hear it now.

“It’s easier to have someone to blame,” Cort continued. “No matter how illogical it was. But that doesn’t make it true. You need to get this idea out of your mind. The crash wasn’t your fault. Getting engaged to someone for practical reasons wasn’t wrong. And regretting the engagement… well, that’s not wrong either. Forgive yourself for being human, and move on.”

Yeah. Maybe. But even if he could, he’d fucked up the only thing he most wanted to move toward.

“I lost it at Drew’s today,” he told Cort instead.

“I was there. But it was a very stressful day, in a stressful week, in a stressful year,” Cort said. “Tensions run high, and things spill over.”

“Maybe.” Bas played with his bottle for another minute, then looked cautiously at Cort before confessing, “Our argument wasn’t about Alexei, though. Not entirely.”

Cort sighed and cast his eyes toward the ceiling like he was asking for divine intervention. “Love advice, twice in one day?” he muttered to the heavens. “Really?”

“What?”

“Nothing. The universe is out to get me.” Cort shook his head like he was resigning himself to something. “So you and McMann.”

“Yeah. Me and Drew.” Just saying the words felt right. Him and Drew. It had always been him and Drew. “We kissed.”

Cort’s eyes widened and he leaned closer. “Reeeeally? You and the counselor finally hooked up? Do tell! I’ve been watching you two dance around each other for months now. Pretty sure all of us have.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“Tiger can’t change his stripes, Seaver,” Cort said, pointing his beer bottle at Bas. “So, when did this kiss happen.”

“Uh. Which time?”

“More than once? Damn, Seaver. Damn.”

The laugh that bubbled out of Bas’s chest surprised both of them. “The first time was on Halloween. Well, no, the first-first time was back while we were kids in summer camp, but ah… that doesn’t really count.” He frowned. “I don’t think. Does it?”

Cort scratched his temple. “I… guess it counts only if you want it to?” he suggested.

“Right. Okay, so then that was the first time. And the second was on Halloween.”

“Halloween,” Cort repeated. Bas watched him connecting the dots mentally, no doubt thinking of how tense things had been between Bas and Drew for weeks, and then how Bas had disappeared off the grid altogether.

“I didn’t take it well,” Bas admitted. “The first one, when we were kids… that was mostly a joke. Or, I let it be one.” He pushed both hands through his hair, grabbing at the strands. “And I thought this would be the same, but it got real pretty quick. Drew had been drinking, and he told me… he told me he’d wanted to do it for a long time.” Bas lifted his eyes to Cort’s. “I didn’t expect it to be like that. Threw me, you know?”

“Didn’t expect it to be what?”

“Well… awesome. Hot.” Bas looked away.

“But it was.”

“Yeah.” Bas sighed. Bas fell silent as the waitress returned with their food and departed again. “Messed me up how hot it was. Drew and I have been best friends forever. Longer than Cam has been alive, even. And in all that time, I’ve never been attracted to him.”

“But you are now.”

“I… Yes.” He thought of Drew’s lips, of his brown eyes when they were hazy and unfocused with lust. “Yes, now I definitely am.”

He looked up at Cort, waiting for a reaction - shock, confusion, maybe even anger or disbelief that Bas could suddenly feel this at his age.

But Cort just nodded and dipped a chip into the guacamole, like straight men admitted having crushes on other men every damn day in his world.

Bas wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Damn!” Cort said, crunching the chip. “This shit is good! You know, I never liked guacamole when I was a kid, and then Cam convinced me try it again a few months back. Fucking delicious.”

“Uh. That’s good?” Dealing with Cort’s conversational shifts was like herding kittens. Freakin’ exhausting.

“Anyway, back to what you were saying.” Cort washed down his chip with some beer. “I’m not seeing the problem. You’re attracted to him, he’s attracted to you. You’re practically married already, you’re so close. Grab some lube and go for it.” He shrugged and pointed a fatherly finger at Bas. “Be safe, kiddo.”

“Are you being deliberately obtuse? I am straight, Cort. That’s the issue!”

Cort blinked in surprise, then his gaze softened. “Evidence would suggest otherwise, Sebastian,” he said softly.

“I’ve dated women. Had sex with women. Enjoyed sex with women, even.” Bas’s voice sounded bewildered to his own ears.

Cort grinned and winked. “Me too. Lots. Not that I’m one to kiss and tell.”

Bas folded his arms over his chest. “It’s not a joke.”

“No.” Cort sobered. “It’s not. I’m sorry. I’ve known I was bi since high school, so I forget how scary it can be to make these realizations. But it’s gonna be fine, dude. There’s not a single person we know who will think any differently of you. And if I can help you in any way…”

“That’s not it! It’d be fine if I was gay, Cort. Or bi. Or what-the-fuck-ever. But I’m… I’ve got to be straight. I’ve always been straight. People are born the way they are!” Bas took a deep breath before he started singing Lady Gaga in the middle of the crowded bar.

Cort frowned. “Well, yes, in the sense that it’s not a conscious choice to be gay or to be straight. But sexuality isn’t black and white, anyway; it’s more like a spectrum. And it’s not a fixed thing, either. Your attractions can evolve over time. I’m not attracted to the same people I was when I was younger.” He shrugged. “Hell, if my taste in snack food can evolve, why can’t my attraction to different people?” He popped another chip into his mouth.

“Because…” Bas shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”

“I agree,” Cort said intently. “It’s not simple at all. It’s actually super complex. Sexuality doesn’t necessarily follow any rules or develop fully in a specific time frame.”

“I’m a thirty-year-old adolescent?” Bas rolled his eyes to cover his frantic thoughts.

Cort snickered. “So tempting to give you shit, but no. And also…” He licked his lips as if debating whether to say something.

“Spit it out.” Bas crooked his fingers in invitation. “While I’m already reeling.”

“Maybe think about whether it is a new thing, or whether maybe it’s been happening for a while and you’re just ready to come out to yourself now.” Cort’s voice was low, soothing, like Sebastian was a skittish horse.

And maybe that wasn’t too far from the truth. His mind was practically dancing, realigning and re-categorizing information based on this new data, thinking about all the times he and Drew had been physically close and he’d run away.

“Have I been lying to myself all this time?” he said, horrified. “When Cam and Drew have always been so honest about who they are? God.”

“Bas, it doesn’t work like that,” Cort insisted. “I mean, I’m not some gay guru, okay? But if there is one thing I know, it’s that it’s a process, an evolution. There are no rules. Everyone has their own truth, and they recognize it in their own time. There is no right way to do this. Or maybe it’s better to say, any way you do it is right. Any time you accept yourself for who you are, it’s a win. And it’s not fair to say, ‘I should’ve realized I was gay when I was a preteen like Camden,’ any more than it’s fair for me to say, ‘I should have realized avocados are delicious when I was a kid.’”

“Could you shut up about the damn guacamole?” Bas sighed.

“It’s an analogy, Seaver. Yeesh. Follow along here.” Cort winked. “Right, lemme break it down for you with no snack references.” He counted off on his fingers. “First, give yourself a break. Second, you don’t need to label yourself. Maybe you’re a straight guy who likes kissing Drew.” He shrugged. “Weirder things have happened. Don’t feel like you need to label yourself anything unless you find it helpful. And third, it should go without saying, but I won’t share this with anyone, even Cam. He wouldn’t expect me to. You can talk to other people about it if or when you’re ready. Yeah?”

Bas nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Maybe he was bi. Or maybe I’m a straight guy who likes kissing Drew. He ran a hand over his eyes and huffed out a laugh. Fucked up as it was, the idea was a revelation. For a man who needed to sort data, to evaluate and categorize and, yeah, label, the idea that he didn’t have to label himself at all was… fucking revolutionary.

Sebastian took a sip of his beer and took a second to appreciate the fact that he was discussing Drew - his romantic feelings for Drew - without a nagging worry in the back of his mind. What if… what if he could just be with Drew. Kiss Drew every fucking day. Have… Oh, Jesus. His dick pulsed in his jeans before he could even complete the thought… Have sex with Drew.

His chest felt lighter than it had since October.

“So, maybe you need to share this revelation with Drew,” Cort suggested, his eyes teasing.

“Well, the thing is, I kinda tried. I…we hooked up the other night.” He held up a hand before Cort could open his mouth. “Yeah, it was hot. No, I’m not giving you details for your prurient fantasies.”

Cort snickered.

“But Drew told me he doesn’t want it to happen again. He’s scared that I’ll figure out this was all a mistake at some point. That I’ll pull away again to sort my shit like I did the past month. And it’ll ruin our friendship permanently.”

Cort grimaced. “Do you blame him?”

“No. It wasn’t my finest moment.”

“Typical Seaver though. Gotta puzzle it out in that genius brain of yours.” He rolled his eyes. “When all along, what you’ve had is a heart problem, not a head problem. You were using the wrong machine.

“I guess maybe I have.” Another stunning idea.

“Falling for someone is scary shit. Believe me.” Cort’s mouth tilted up at one corner. “I avoided love for three decades, before it fell on my head like an anvil in a Roadrunner cartoon. It kinda makes sense that you’d wanna avoid that - something you can’t control or think your way out of.”

Something he couldn’t control or think his way out of? Yeah, that was his relationship with Drew, alright. So maybe it did make sense that he’d hidden behind Amy, behind his straightness…

Bas blew out a breath and looked at Cort across the table. “You’re a fucked up kind of Dear Abby, Cortland. But shit, you’re good.” He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought Kendrick Cortland was insensitive.

“Uh huh.” Cort sighed. “So I keep telling your brother, but he just rolls his eyes and reminds me he said I love you first.”

Bas snickered.

“So. You want Drew?”

“Yeah,” Bas whispered. It was rather frightening how badly he wanted Drew.

“You love him?”

“I’ve always loved him.” No surprise there. And maybe… Maybe he’d been in love with him for nearly as long. Damn.

“Then tell him so, genius.”

“How do I convince him to take a chance on me, though?”

Cort grinned so widely that his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Oh, Seaver.” He shook his head. “I am pretty sure that won’t require much convincing.”

“You think?”

Cort’s eyes flashed with humor. “Care to make a wager?”

Bas snorted and Cort relented.

“A blind man could see it, Seaver. He wants you.”

With a shaking hand, Bas combed through his messy hair. “Fuck, I wish I knew where he was. I kinda wanna camp out on his doorstep. How stupid is that?”

“Extremely stupid,” Cort agreed. “Since I happen to know that he’s meeting Mark Charbonnier at West Kitchen, a lovely establishment not two blocks from here.”

“Are you… are you kidding?” Bas blinked and pushed himself out of his seat before his brain was aware of the movement. “Oh, Kendrick Cortland, I could kiss you!”

“Your brother would take you down if you tried,” Cort declared smugly as Bas reached for his jacket.

“I wish I’d had the Mark-dude’s name when Sean was still here,” Bas said. “I would’ve given him one more name to run.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s legal or even advisable,” Cort began. “It’s kinda borderline-stalker.” Then he stopped himself and shrugged. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’d totally do the same thing.” He grabbed his phone and winked. “I’m texting Cooksy and having him add Mark’s name to the list. Just in case dude’s got a long line of defrauded ex-boyfriends or unpaid parking tickets to his name.”

“Perfect. I owe you, big-time.”

“Nah. No debts among family.” Cort looked up after sending the text and heaved a long sigh. “But since this advice thing is apparently addictive after the first hit, I’ve got one more piece for you. Talk to him, Bas. Explain everything you explained to me. You guys have that symbiosis thing happening, but don’t assume that he’s actually inside your wacky mind and can read your thoughts, yeah?”

Bas laughed. “Yeah. Okay, I promise.”

“Then have fun storming the castle,” Cort said, waving his hand airily as he finished the last of his beer. “Go get your prince. I’ll call an Uber and go get mine.”