Magnus wanted to punch the fucker who spoke, because it caused Trey to pull away. The only saving grace was that Trey was sucking in air the same way Magnus was, those steel-blue eyes looked as rocked as he felt. He briefly considered explaining what had happened, why he’d inserted himself between him and Cyrus, but wasn’t sure it would do any good.
In his defense, his actions were altruistic. He’d done it to get the other guy to back off, because clearly Trey had been attempting to get away from him, and the man didn’t seem to be getting the hint.
What were friends for, right?
His good deed had backfired big-time because now that he’d been lip-locked with Trey, he wanted to explore it further, to see just what was behind that sexy, brooding exterior.
Someone cleared their throat and Magnus remembered where he was. It took effort, but he let his hand fall from Trey’s neck, pulling back so he could fill his oxygen-starved lungs.
“I need some air,” Trey finally said, stepping back.
“Trey. Wait.”
He didn’t, and Magnus wasn’t sure he should go after him. He managed to refrain, heading back to the table, back to where Brantley and Reese were talking.
Brantley glanced around him, frowned. “Where’s Trey?”
“Said he needed some air.” Magnus picked up his beer and downed what was left of it.
“Not that it’sanyof my business, but if you wanna”—Reese fluttered his hand—“whatever’s goin’ on with you and … you might wanna go after him.”
“I’ll give him a minute.”
“You won’tgeta minute. If I know my brother, and I do, he’s debatin’ on whether to come back in or head out. He’ll do that for a minute, maybe two, then he’s leavin’,” Brantley said, stressing the last word.
Magnus frowned.
“Seriously,” Brantley added.
Reese’s mirroring expression confirmed it.
Magnus glanced over at the door as though he could see out into the night, to where Trey had disappeared to.
Fuck.
“Happy New Year,” Brantley called out with a gruff laugh as Magnus walked away.
Heading for the door, Magnus tossed his empty beer bottle in one of the recycle barrels. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was going after Trey, other than to apologize for overstepping. The words would only be to placate Trey, of course, or maybe just an excuse to talk to him, because Magnus wasn’t the least bit sorry. He would do it again in a heartbeat given the opportunity.
He ventured outside, let the cold air fill his lungs as he glanced left and right before stepping off the wooden porch and into the gravel parking lot.
It was cold out tonight, but not so cold he needed a coat. Especially not since his blood was still flowing thick and hot through his veins thanks to that mind-blowing kiss he’d engaged in.
Magnus scanned the rows of vehicles he could see. The small bar was packed tonight, something he was told happened quite frequently. Probably had something to do with Moonshiners being the only bar in town and a favorite amongst locals. Magnus wasn’t exactly a local, having grown up in the small town just east of Coyote Ridge. Close enough to venture through, but rarely ever to stop, until recently when he’d acquired two new clients who lived here.
Not knowing where Trey had parked, Magnus took a chance, heading for the right side of the building.
It appeared to be his lucky night, because there was Trey, leaning against the wall, head tilted back, eyes closed. Debating, apparently.
Magnus cleared his throat to signal his approach.
“Go back inside,” Trey instructed without bothering to look his way.
Never good with authority, Magnus moved in closer rather than away.
“Go. Back. Inside.”
He continued until he was no more than a foot away. “No.”
