Heat Stroke (Beach Kingdom, #2)(52)

Reassured, Jamie shoved his feet into his boots and shot off a quick text to Rory, asking if he could come pick him up at the coffee shop down the street. Ubers were scarce this early on Sunday mornings in Long Beach and he didn’t feel like waiting. Rory would know Jamie had spent the night at Marcus’s place, but hopefully he wouldn’t lecture him again.

Jamie took a step toward the door—

And watched in horror as it opened.

A man stared back at him from the threshold and there was no doubt the man was Marcus’s brother. They had similar features, but this man—Joey—lacked Marcus’s amusement and earnestness. He stared at Jamie in confusion for a moment and was clearly poised to say something, but when his gaze landed on Marcus, who was sleeping naked, his mouth snapped shut. Understanding dawned in Joey’s expression and red suffused his cheeks.

Jamie went into salvage mode.

Because shit. Shit. This wasn’t good. And it was Jamie’s fault for falling asleep and not leaving when he should have. Goddammit. Now Marcus was about to be outed before he was ready. It might even be traumatic for him—and Jamie couldn’t let it happen. He had to do his best with this clusterfuck of a situation for Marcus’s sake.

Jamie held up a hand and approached Joey slowly, tipping his head toward the hallway. Can we talk? Jamie mouthed. Please?

The red on Joey’s face deepened, his expression nothing but a pure fuck you and Jamie should have cut his losses and left. He really should have. But he cared too much about the sleeping giant on the couch and this guy, Marcus’s brother, had just been caught off-guard and the whole situation was a recipe for someone to get hurt. Namely, Jamie’s boyfriend. And while Marcus had always been the protective one, Jamie was ready to fight to make sure Marcus came out in his own time, his own way.

Jamie closed the distance between him and Joey, dropping his voice low. “Look, if you’ll please just step outside with me for a minute—”

“You,” Joey returned, his voice just above a whisper. He jabbed the air in front of Jamie. “What the hell did you do to him? You’re the reason he’s been acting so fucking weird.”

Several responses to that jumped to the forefront of Jamie’s mind, but they all told a story that wasn’t his to tell. What the hell was he supposed to do here? He walked out into the hallway, relieved when Joey followed him, although he still appeared shell shocked. “I’m Marcus’s friend. I care about him a lot,” Jamie said quietly. “And I get that walking in a-and being blindsided by something you weren’t expecting…I get how hard that is—”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like you represent my brother. I don’t ever know who the hell you are.”

Jamie shook his head. “I’m not trying to do that at all.”

“Oh no?” Marcus’s brother stepped closer, getting in his face. “Sounds like you are.”

Joey’s volume was increasing and the last thing Jamie wanted was Marcus to wake up to a full-on argument between Jamie and his brother. It was growing more and more obvious that Jamie couldn’t salvage this. Joey was angry and caught off-guard and ready to lash out. “If you want to calm down and talk about this, we’ll do it outside, but I’m not going to wake him up yelling about something that should be private,” Jamie said, turning and descending to the first floor. Was he disappointed or relieved when Joey followed, his footsteps thundering on the stairs? He didn’t know. But he would try and make whatever difference he could for Marcus.

As soon as they were outside, Joey caught Jamie’s sleeve and jerked him around. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you’re going to stay away from my brother.”

“You might want to ask him if that’s what he wants first,” Jamie returned, outwardly patient. Inwardly? Not so much. Possessiveness rolled around in his belly like marbles.

No one tells me to stay away from Marcus.

Joey cast a glance toward the building, his mouth opening and closing. “What is this? Some kind of phase or something?”

Anger caused red to trickle into Jamie’s line of sight. “See, that’s the kind of shit you should learn out on your own, before you talk to him.”

Joey bared his teeth and lunged, grabbing the collar of Jamie’s shirt in two hands. “Don’t you tell me how to talk to my own brother.”

“Let go of me,” Jamie gritted out. “And back the fuck up.”

Jamie tried to twist out of Joey’s grip, but the guy held on, giving Jamie no choice but to push him off—and that’s when Joey delivered a right cross to Jamie’s face. It was a hard punch, hard enough that his ears rang, almost drowning out the crunch of his nose’s cartilage. Dizziness hit Jamie and his knees buckled, dropping him to the ground so he could stare at the blood dripping from his face onto the pavement. So much of it.

Jamie laughed.

There was no humor in the sound, only self-disgust and more than a touch of hysteria.

Christ. Here he was again.

Right back where he’d been six years ago, except this time it was a sidewalk, instead of an ocean. “I really thought it was going to be different this time,” he said, almost conversationally to Joey. “That’s the definition of insanity, you know? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.”