For Christ’s sake, he wasn’t interested. He was merely acknowledging a good-looking man. That wasn’t a crime.
“Nice to see you again,” Magnus said, those hazel eyes glittering with the same charm that oozed from the guy.
Trey jerked his chin in response, tipped his beer to his lips, took another swallow, and glanced up at the bar. He was going to need another. Maybe two. Or shit, he’d just go with the whiskey. That would likely do the trick even if it would send him spiraling down a hole he didn’t want to end up in.
When he peered over at Magnus again, he saw the man was still watching him.
Just fucking great. The last thing Trey needed was this ridiculous temptation he’d been ignoring for the past few weeks, ever since he’d been introduced to Magnus.
“Mind if I sit?” Cyrus asked, pulling over a chair and not waiting for a response.
Oh, good. A distraction.
Trey peered over at his brother and Reese, saw that Reese was all but shooting daggers out of his eyes and they were aimed right at Cyrus. Good to know Trey wasn’t the only one irritated with him tonight. Although he knew Reese’s irritation was permanent and for different reasons.
“Hey, new guy. How’s it hangin’?” Cyrus asked Magnus.
“It’s hangin’,” Magnus drawled, his voice raspier than Trey remembered.
A quick glance at Magnus and Trey saw the man briefly glance over at Cyrus before turning his attention back to Trey, a smirk on his lips.
“Low and to the right, maybe?” Cyrus chuckled, clearly mistaking the response as an invitation. “Name’s Cyrus. And you would be?”
He didn’t want to do it, but Trey met Magnus’s gaze, held it for a second before Magnus politely looked over at Cyrus again.
“Magnus,” he answered. “Magnus Storme.”
“And how do we know you, Magnus Storme?” Cyrus crooned.
“He owns Camp K-9,” Brantley answered. “We hired him to train Tesha.”
“Ah.” Cyrus looked far too interested in the information. “Tesha’s the dog, right?”
No one answered as they were all beginning to look around, as though trying to figure out how to slip out of this uncomfortable situation unnoticed.
Even if Cyrus was a nice guy, even if no one usually had a problem with him—aside from Reese—Cyrus had always been the kind who couldn’t take a hint. He was evidently bound and determined to insert himself into this evening, and if that happened, Trey was going to go home early. He didn’t care about counting down to the new year anyway.
“Tell me about yourself,” Cyrus suggested to Magnus. “I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Trey couldn’t hide his exasperation. “Is there anyone you won’t fuck?”
Several things happened at once. Magnus’s gaze, filled with both amusement and heat, shot to him, Brantley snorted a laugh, Reese coughed, and Cyrus … well, Cyrus continued to undress Magnus with his eyes.
Realizing he sounded like an ass but not willing to apologize for it, Trey excused himself, heading for the bar.
As he walked away, he forced himself to focus on the floor in front of him rather than look back to ensure Cyrus wasn’t cozying up to Magnus. It wasn’t easy, but for the life of him, he couldn’t say why that was. There was just something about Magnus Storme that fogged his brain.
Funny, considering just a couple of months ago, Cyrus had been the one fogging his brain.
And that technically made him an idiot, didn’t it?
By the time he made it across the crowded room, the urge to look back had caused a buzzing in his head, but still he fought it off, making it up to the bar, waiting his turn. And okay, fine, maybe he did glance back as Rafe was getting him another beer but not on purpose.
Liar.
“You’re an idiot,” Trey mumbled to himself, turning away from the temptation he hadn’t expected to be waiting for him when he arrived.
Trey had absolutely no business wanting that man. None.
