Destiny had been trying for the better part of the last three days to get him to talk about it. Destiny, who he could barely keep his hands off, who he lay in bed dreaming about, fucking his own fist with so much abandon he was sure the neighbors heard him shout her name.
But then he couldn"t stop thinking about Bran, either. And why the hell was that?
Just knowing Destiny was available was usually enough to delete everyone else from his mind. In the past it had always been that when he was with Destiny, he was with Destiny. He wasn"t thinking about anyone but her.
That he couldn"t stop thinking about Bran was definitely unsettling. To say the least. And it wasn"t as through Destiny wasn"t in his thoughts, too, and often at the same time. In fact, more often than not, they were both there. Their friendship, their laughter, their bodies, their mouths meeting and fusing and hands reaching out to touch one another while he watched… shit.
He slammed the door on his wandering thoughts. He couldn"t go ten minutes without thinking about one or both of them. Hell, he was used to having endless fantasies about Destiny. After all these years, it was second nature for him to conjure her image and the memory of countless sexy moments, some wild, some sweet—all wonderful. That Brandon was getting equal air time, coupled with the fact that he couldn"t begin to fathom how this was happening—how at age thirty-three he could suddenly find himself fiercely sexually attracted to his own best friend—was freaking him out.
Equally horrifying was that he was almost certain Destiny knew what was happening to him. She sure as hell kept bringing it up right when it was foremost in his mind, like she could tell he was thinking about Brandon and that damn kiss again. He"d managed to dodge her questions, but he wasn"t kidding himself. He was going to have 25
Samantha Wayland
to deal with it—and soon. Destiny wasn"t easily put off and that he"d gotten this far meant that she was giving him some room. Her patience would not be limitless.
What could he say that would explain his reaction to that kiss? The reaction that still rode him, three days later, like it had happened ten minutes before. Why couldn"t he forget about it? Why did remembering the feeling of Brandon"s body pressed to his, the taste and feel of Brandon"s mouth, make him feel so damned hot? Why did it make his heart beat harder, his skin feel tighter?
He wished he knew the answers to any of those questions. What he did know was that he missed Brandon. Since the Academy they"d been each other"s sounding boards.
Even after Brandon had gone to the Organized Crime Task Force and Patrick has stayed in the Detective pool, they"d kept up their tradition of running ideas and leads past each other, hoping fresh eyes would see something the other had missed, fresh ears would hear things the other hadn"t keyed in on. And it worked. Or it had, until Patrick had taken to avoiding his own best friend like the plague.
And then, of course, he also missed Brandon for more reasons than the professional ones. Along with Destiny, the guy was his oldest friend, his closest friend. He missed talking to someone who knew him so well he had to be honest. With whom he could be utterly and totally himself. Someone who accepted him without question.
Which, without a doubt, made him a world-class asshole, since that was exactly what he wasn"t doing for Brandon. Brandon"s bisexuality had never been an issue—
right up until the moment he"d kissed him and they"d bumped hips and thighs and cocks and… shit.
Patrick sat up, shoving his legs back under his desk, shifting in his seat to ease the mounting pressure in his boxer shorts. He really needed to stop thinking about the whole damn mess.
Because, you know, denial had been working well for him so far.
Destiny managed to sneak out of work early, hit the grocery store and dash over to Patrick"s house in plenty of time to start supper. As she used her key to get in, she told herself not to be nervous. She was a woman on a mission. One that might get her into a big old bucket of hot water with two men she loved, but a woman on a mission nonetheless.
She"d be damned if she was going to let Patrick do the denial dance for one more day. She"d tried, several times, to bring up the situation with Brandon and where had it gotten her? Nowhere. The only question he"d answered had been her nightly inquiry into whether or not he"d seen Brandon at work that day. His abrupt denial was no doubt the truth, even if it wasn"t the whole story. Not by a long shot.
She set the table carefully, knowing as she put the third place setting down that she"d been impulsive when she"d called Brandon and asked if he would meet them for dinner. She"d been pleased when he"d agreed, albeit reluctantly. But she"d also been shocked by his transparent surprise at hearing from her. What did he think, that she 26
Destiny Calls
would avoid him because Patrick was doing so? Because Patrick was an idiot with a hang-up about kissing men and liking it? Not hardly.
She"d been friends with Brandon just as long as she had with Patrick. She loved him just as much and simply because she had slept with Patrick in the past did not mean she was going to turn her back on a dear friend. Frankly, Brandon had never had more of her sympathy. God and she both knew loving Patrick was enough to make a person want to smash their head against something hard.
She"d done her level best to make sure Brandon
