John had groaned. Ryan had kissed him.
And the following morning had been the tipping point anyway. Holiday had vanished after loading the dishwasher, and they’d started worrying after an hour or so and had gone looking. Ryan had found him first, sitting on the small rock-hewn balcony below the main observation windows; Holly had hastily attempted to pretend he’d not been crying.
When Ryan had put a hand on his shoulder and asked, Holly had tried to apologize, through tears, and had admitted haltingly to wanting him, wanting him and John. He’d tried to say he was sorry for making them uncomfortable, for being even more of a problem, for intruding on their love, because they did love each other, he could see that, he was almost fully recovered in any case, he should just go.
Ryan had sto
