Chapter 3“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Matthew asked.
Tate and I looked at one another as if this needed counsel before I nodded. “Yeah, of course. What do you want to drink? We’ll make it in the kitchen.”
“Whatever you have is fine.” Matthew gave a lingering smile before he stepped behind the white door to our bathroom. I felt something pass through me, before Tate stepped past me in the hallway into our shared kitchen. Longing? Regret? I wasn’t sure, so I followed Tate. He brought down liquor bottles from the top of the fridge, a jangling noise rattling in my ears from the glass rubbing together as the fridge motor whirred. It seemed to be the only thing I could hear for a long time.
“We don’t have to do this,” Tate said quietly. The bottles were in front of empty glasses, his
