“Okay, time for food,” he declares loudly. The sight of his ass when he jumps out of bed and goes in search of his pants makes up for the sudden noise. He lingers, knowing that I’m looking at him before he does the awkward hop to get into a pair of my soft sweats.
My phone ringing distracts me from the show. The second I see the name on the screen, I groan and flop back onto the bed. Spencer stops with one leg in the pants and looks back at me in silent question.
“I think that French toast will have to wait.” Six wouldn’t call this early for no good reason.
“You guys might want to see this,” Six says as soon as I answer. “I’m sending the link to Spence.”
We share a glance, and then Spencer grabs his phone off the nightstand, flicking the screen on. He drops onto the bed so we can both see the screen.
Spencer whistles low. “I think we’re putting this guy at the top of the list.”
It’s a website. A dedicated fan page, all things Veronica Ferguson. Pictures snapped of her that likely aren’t consensual. Facts and information about her, some highly personal.
Spencer clicks over to a page labelled “encounters.” Not of the PG variety. They’re accounts of men that have slept with her. He grimaces. “Well, that’s fucking disgusting.”
“Have any of these men gone missing in the last year?” I wonder aloud. Is he compiling the list as potential targets, or because he’s a sick fuck that wants all the details that he can’t get himself?
“I’ll get Greer to check,” Six says. “He loves it when I boss him around.”
Instead of laughing, Spencer goes red. Curious.
“Get it for us today if you can?” It’s barely five, so we’ve got some time before he’s likely to be on his way to work. “We’re gonna pay a visit to the guy’s house, see what we can dig up.”
“You want me to get a watch on him, make sure he stays away while you poke around?”
“It’s more fun when it’s a mystery.” If he shows up, we can have a little chat. No harm, no foul. “Let us know if you find anything else.”
Six mumbles an affirmative and hangs up.
Spencer hasn’t moved from where he’s perched on the edge of the bed. Staring down at his hands, intense concentration on his face. The urge to lick over the downturned curve of his lips is like a physical compulsion.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“The fact you won’t look at me is a good start.”
He sighs, still not looking at me. Have his cheeks gone even more red?
“I saw them yesterday.”
Based on context, I try to piece together what he’s talking about. “Do you mean Six and Greer? Yeah, they were hanging around HQ a bit.” Greer doesn’t usually spend any considerable time, well, inanyplace. It’s rare for the workaholic to not always be on the go, but occasionally, Six will put his foot down and make him stay in one place. “So what?”
“No, I mean, I saw them having sex. In their office.”
He says it like it’s the first time any of us have walked in on those two. They’re not exactly discrete. “Were they doing something weird?” If it were anyone else, I’d be jealous that Spencer saw them. Those two don’t really count. They’re so gone for each other; I doubt anyone could make them turn their heads.
“What? No!”
And yet he’s still blushing. It takes one cajoling tug to get him to climb between my legs. Tipping his chin up, I brush the tips of my fingers across his jaw. “Talk to me.” Something’s clearly bothering him.
“It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“To get fucked by Six?” I ask, deliberately misunderstanding him. “I can’t say it’s on my bucket list, no.” Why is he bringing this up? He never has before. We’ve always been content to leave the status quo where it’s always been, neither pushing for more. Or for less. He’s latched on to this idea of sex, and I wish I knew why.
“I think anyone who says they haven’t at leastthoughtabout it is lying.”
“Does that mean you’ve thought about it?” I ask, sour acid clogging my throat. I love Six like a brother, but if Spencer has had even one thought about him in that way, I’ll kill him.
