Lies On The Lips

Chapter Six

Copeland

My phone buzzes and I pull it out.

Ashley: I miss you.

Groaning, I ignore her text and shove my phone back in my pocket. I walk downstairs and cringe to see my dad. He’s on the phone, dressed in a sharp suit, pacing the floor beside his messenger bag. "I don’t want London either, Mark, but what the hell am I supposed to do now? Fucking cancel?" Dad growls, running his fingers through his dark hair that matches mine. "Exactly. I’ll see you at the office." He hangs up and his eyes dart to mine.

"Heading out with Brett," I say as I start for the door.

Dad nearly chokes. "Brett? From next door? I thought you guys hated each other."

"Ashley hated him," I lied. "We broke up and now I have more time for friends. Brett and I are cool." For now. As long as he doesn’t try to shove his tongue down my throat.

Again. His smile widens. "About damn time, son. I’ll have my assistant set up a dinner for our families. You’re both eighteen and headed to college soon. It’s good to have strong friendships that’ll help you in the business world one day."

I refrain from rolling my eyes. Always about business with Dad. Money, money, money. He thinks relationships have to be some ulterior motive to make more of it. Rather than get into some heated argument like usual, I simply nod. "Got it," I mumble. "Have fun making money." As if we need any more of it. Him and his business partner Mark travel a lot for their finance company. I’m not sure exactly what all they do, but they’re always recruiting investors. Dad wants me to go to school for finance so I can work for him. I’d rather apprentice at a tattoo shop than ever step foot in a boardroom. There’ll be hell to pay if I ever let that be known. Dad’s all about the image. He already has fits over my wardrobe and tattoos and hair. If I decided to ignore his future wishes for me, and do my own thing, it’d be something that was noticed within the community. Something that would look badly on him. And something that we’ll probably fight like hell over one day. Until then… I’m going to hang out with my friends. "Leah Collins will be there too," I add with a smirk.

Dad’s head whips up from his phone. "You’re dating her?"

"Not yet," I say with a laugh. "I have to steal her from Brett first."

He chuckles. "Good friends always share everything equally in a partnership." His wink has me shaking my head.

"Are you encouraging a threesome, Dad?" I taunt, just to watch his face pale.

"Go," he grunts.

"I’ll see you later." Fucking idiot. I thought and rushed to my car and wait for Brett.

The music booms as I try to clear my head. Hanging out with Brett feels so normal. I hate to admit how much I’ve missed it. He’s the only person who knows everything about me. It’s so easy to fall back into the way things were. But they’re not the same. Because back when we were like brothers, he didn’t want my dick.

So I mess with his head, to make him admit that he is gay. To realize going out with Leah is a copout to how he really feels. Maybe he needs to date guys. Then we could go back to being friends like we should be. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as I wonder if I know any gays at school. One guy, Liam Blake comes to mind. Pretty boy who wears a fedora and eyeliner. A little pansy if you ask me. But openly gay. Images of him and Brett doesn't sit well with me. Brett may have crossed the line with me, but I still think he’s a better guy than Liam. Liam’s known for sleeping around. Probably crawling with STDs. Brett’s definitely not seeing Liam. I’ll let him know real quick that Liam’s out of the question.

The door pops open and Brett drops into the seat next to me. His hoodie can’t hide the busted face, but at least it’s not so obvious. I wonder if his dad knows yet.

"Liam’s a douchebag manwhore," I tell him as I rev my engine. He jerks his head my way and gives me a quizzical look.

"Okay. Good to know."

"You can’t date him." I put the car in reverse, letting my loud engine drown out any argument on the matter. The entire way to Leah's Brett scowls. He’s pissed, but I don’t care. I may not get him to admit he’s gay, but I’ll be damned if I let him fall into a secret relationship with Liam and contract some disease. "Dante Phillips is bi, I think," I say, turning down the radio and glancing over at Brett. His jaw clenches.

"I told you, I’m not…"

"You are. I saw it with my own eyes in there, Brett. Stop denying it, dammit."

"Cope…" he trailed off, running his fingers through his hair. "Just leave it alone." I pull into Leah's drive and shake my head.

"Nope. You see, I figured it out. We get you a boyfriend, and we can go back to being friends. I don’t have to worry about you shoving your tongue down my throat and you don’t have to worry about me kicking your ass. Problem solved. Leah doesn’t fit in this equation."

"You're a very sick man, Cope."

"Noooo, I'm smart and it will work."

"Fuck off."

"Leah’s better suited for me," I tell him. "So, I'll go on your little date. We can invite Dante."

"Back the hell off, Cope, or I’m going to make you," he snarls, the muscles in his neck tightening. I lean in and bring my mouth to his ear.

"Admit you’re gay and I’ll back off." A strangled sound escapes him. "Admit it," I urge.

"I can’t," he whispers. Pulling away slightly, I look into his dark brown eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because I don’t think I am."

I blink at him in confusion. "But you kissed me," I bite out."

His cheeks burn red and his jaw clenches. "You don’t get it."

"Apparently not." He licks his lips and I watch the movement before locking my gaze with his. His brows furl together as he struggles to form words.

"I’m not gay," he mutters. "I’m not attracted to other guys."

"Other guys?" I parrot as his words sink in. "Other guys besides me." Rather than answering, he leans his head back against the headrest with a thud. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. I pull away and scowl at him. "Leah’s still not the answer," I rasp out.

"Neither is Dante," he utters bitterly. "I’m just going to hang out with her as friends."

"Then I’m going to, too.” I smirk at him. "As friends."

"Always pushing me, always punishing me. I'm going to leave in a minute and forget you ever existed if you carry on." Unease trickles through me, but so does a flare of excitement. On one hand, I’m uncomfortable with Brett admitting that I’m the only guy he’s attracted to. On the other hand, I’m happy we’re talking again. I think we just need ground rules. Don’t kiss me, dammit. Definitely rule number one. Okay, so rules aren’t my strong suit. As long as he doesn’t kiss me, we’re cool. And now that Ashley and I are broken up, I feel free to just hang out. It’s been so long since I’ve had fun, it’s pathetic. My fun always revolved around whatever shit me and Brett could get into. Now that I have my boy back, a sense of adventure looms.

I spot Leah leaving hers. She’s also wearing a school hoodie, so she’ll be twins with Brett. I let out a snort. He groans when he sees they’re matching.

"How cute," I tease. He flips me off before climbing out of the car to greet her. They hug and then he climbs into the backseat, offering her the front. She sits down beside me and stares at me warily. "Like old times, huh?" I smirk at her. "You missed us?"

"I actually did,” she says with a chuckle. "Remember that time our parents signed us up for ballroom dancing?" Brett grumbles from the back.

"We were eight. Who does that to eight-year-olds?" He said.

"Miss Stone hated us," I tell them.

"She hated you," Leah corrects. "You wore your soccer cleats on her pristine dance floor."

"I was coming from soccer practice," I grumbled. "Not my fault my dad didn’t grab my fairy shoes for me." We all laugh, remembering how Miss Stone discovered I was wearing cleats. She was showing me how to do one of the dumb dances and I stepped on her foot. I’ve never seen an old woman bitch as much as that woman did that day.

"How come you don’t play soccer anymore?" Leah asks.

"Because my dad wanted me to," I retort. My eyes meet Brett’s in the backseat and his stare is locked on me. I can tell in his pained eyes he’s remembering the night I told my dad I didn’t want to play. Brett was staying the night at mine. As Leah babbles about something, my mind is right there on that night. I was thirteen when I decided I wanted to give it up on soccer.

I darted my eyes to Brett in the mirror and he watches me with the same intense stare as always. Looking back on what was a seemingly innocent memory, I can’t help but wonder if he wanted me way back then. The way he touched me and held on to me was always brotherly I’d thought. Now, I can’t help but question everything. I’d ask his big, broody ass, but not with Leah in the car. Later. Later, I’m going to ask him how long he’s had this thing for me. And then I’m going to help him find someone who can reciprocate. A pang of jealousy churns in my gut at the idea of Dante or Liam being that guy. But it sure as hell can’t be. EVER.