Not that he did. Want Magnus. Nope. Not him.
Focusing on the task at hand, Trey waited for Rafe to get his beer.
Even with his back to the room, Trey could see Magnus in his mind’s eye. Rock fucking solid. Most notably his biceps and his chest. Trey could only imagine what the guy looked like without his shirt on.
Wait.
No.
He wasnotgoing to imagine Magnus without a shirt. Hell, he wasn’t going to imagine Magnus at all.
“Fuck.”
Thankfully, Rafe didn’t dawdle, passing over his beer and scurrying off to help someone else.
In an effort to shake off the weirdness that had overcome him the moment he laid eyes on Magnus, Trey headed toward the pool tables in the back.
He considered joining a game, decided against it. It would be in his best interest to go home early, to avoid waking up tomorrow with another naked man in his bed and a boatload of regret to go along with it.
“You can’t hide in a place this small, you know that, right?”
Trey briefly peered over at Brantley, who for some dumb-ass reason had come to join him, then returned his attention to one of the games being played.
“So the kid’s hangin’ out with y’all now?” he asked his brother.
“What kid?”
Trey nodded his head in the direction of the table where the others were still sitting. “I’ve already forgotten his name,” he lied.
“Magnus. Tesha’s trainer,” Brantley clarified.
“Sure. That one.”
Brantley lifted his beer bottle to his lips, grinned. “He’s not a kid.”
“Looks it. He’s what? All of twenty?”
“Twenty-four.”
“A baby then.”
“Thatkidhas been through more than you and me both.”
Which was saying something considering Brantley had spent the majority of his adult years in the navy, many of them as a SEAL. And now Trey was even more intrigued.
Damn it.
“That so?” He hoped it sounded nonchalant and not at all probing.
Brantley rolled his head on his shoulders, as though working out the kinks. “Don’t give him shit, Trey. He’s a good guy.”
Good-looking, yes. Trey would give him that. He’d been a bit taken aback by the man the very first time he’d met him. Oh, yeah, the guy tripped his trigger. But even he would admit it was a hair trigger, not exactly a great feat.
Luckily, he’d managed to avoid Magnus for the most part since then. But now … here? Who did they think he was? A fucking saint?
He downed half his beer, not tasting it.
“If you’re thinkin’ about bonin’ him, don’t. He’s got a girlfriend.”
