Page 43 of Inevitable

Drew looked toward Ezra’s bedroom with an unseeing gaze. “If people let you down time and time again, you eventually start to suspect that every bad thing you think about yourself is true.”

Ezra nodded thoughtfully. He wanted to know more. Wanted to dig into Bas and find out everything that hurt him and make it all go away. The fierce need to protect was new. Ezra wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Bas chose that exact moment to stumble into the room. He was still rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” he muttered as he made his way toward the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and downed half of it in one go.

“I’m not,” Drew said.

Bas sent him a withering look.

“Aren’t you, though?”

“I’m just speaking from experience,” Drew said calmly.

“Sure,” Bas muttered and rolled his eyes.

Ezra could feel the change in the air. It blew over the room like somebody had exhaled ice upon them.

People were ugly when they were fighting. They said ugly words and thought ugly thoughts, and this was where Drew and Bas were headed. Drew had pushed himself off the counter, and Bas was glaring at him.

Tension simmered in the air. All it would take was one wrong word to light the match that would cause another explosion. Bas and Drew really needed to talk, but not like this. Not when they were both seemingly itching for a fight.

“Dinner?” Ezra asked loudly, drawing the attention to him. He shrugged. “It’s late. We should eat.”

And stop bickering.

“We should,” Drew said. He glanced at Ezra. “Order in or cook?”

“Cook.” Ezra looked from Bas to Drew for confirmation. Yeah, things weren’t looking rosy right that second, but Ezra wanted to spend time with Bas and Drew, so he couldn’t help but grab the opportunity when it presented itself.

“Pasta?” Drew suggested.

“We had pasta on New Year’s Eve,” Ezra reminded him.

“Did we?”

Drew looked so puzzled that Ezra started to laugh.

“With shrimp scampi? And that fancy champagne? Guess we now know why you can’t remember.”

“Oh yeah,” Drew said and smiled at Ezra. “We should make that again. It was good.”

“Doesn’t solve tonight’s dinner dilemma, though.”

“I’ll check what we have, and then we’ll wing it,” Drew decided as he turned around and went to scour the fridge, not noticing the way Bas looked at him. There was something forlorn in his gaze. Like a simple conversation about dinner was a sign of the end. It sounded stupid, but Ezra couldn’t shake the feeling that Bas was drifting away. Maybe not even drifting. That he was actively pushing himself away.

“Count me out,” Bas said as if on cue. “I’ve gotta get back to the studio.”

Drew turned around slowly.

“It’s dinner,” he said. “I’m pretty sure you can take the extra thirty minutes and eat with us.”

“I’m not hungry.” Bas was already halfway out the door, looking for all intents and purposes as if he was escaping rather than just casually walking out.

“We were supposed to have it together,” Drew called after him, sounding thoroughly pissed. “You made a promise, goddamn it.”

Bas’s shoulders tensed, but he refused to turn around. Long seconds ticked by before he glanced over his shoulder.