Trey waited patiently, glancing around at all the faces. Most were regulars coming in to while away an hour or two, get wrangled into a debate about sports or even the weather. He smiled, nodded in greeting as others looked his way. When he reached the far end, he did a double take at the guy perched closest to the wall, his brain not processing immediately.
“Holy fuck,” he said, squeezing out from his hole and sauntering down to the opposite end where Reese was sitting on a stool, practically hidden in the corner. Trey stepped up to him, put his hand out. “Welcome back, man.”
Reese looked over, his eyes heavy-lidded and bloodshot. He’d clearly been drinking, and based on the empty glass in front of him, he wasn’t fucking around tonight.
“Hey,” Reese slurred, offering a weak excuse for a handshake.
“How long you been back?”
“Since … uh… yesterday?” Reese grumbled in response, sounding unsure about the timeline.
“You back for good?” Trey prodded, curious as to whether Reese had talked to Brantley but managing to keep from asking.
Reese shrugged, motioned for Mack to bring him another … it looked to be whiskey and water.
“All right, then,” Trey said, recognizing a brush-off when he saw one. “I guess I’ll talk to ya later.”
Reese nodded, his full attention on the glass in front of him.
Knowing when to leave well enough alone, Trey stepped away, but not before getting his beer from Mack. He headed for his cousins but drew up short when he heard his name. He stopped, turned, saw Magnus Storme strolling into the place. He looked like a man on a mission, and damn it all to hell, Trey couldn’t help wondering if he was the intended target.
“Don’t worry. I’m not stalkin’ you. Yet,” Magnus said with a beaming grin. It was the same grin Magnus used when he seduced Trey during their secret late-night encounters at Trey’s house. “JJ texted me. Said to come by if I was free.”
Trey wasn’t sure what to say.
Magnus stepped in close. Close enough Trey could see the green and brown flecks in his hazel eyes, smell the rich but subtle fragrance of his cologne. “So am I free, Trey?”
They’d spent the past year engaged in this little dance. The one where Magnus would approach him in public, taunt him, tempt him. And then, late at night when there were no prying eyes, Magnus would come back to Trey’s place, and they would fuck until they could hardly move. Trey would fall asleep, exhausted from the best sex of his fucking life, and he would wake in the morning to an empty bed.
For the most part, that was working well for them. Trey battled the daily urge to fall in love with this man, forced himself to stick to his guns and keep this thing between them simple and uncomplicated. It wasn’t easy, but Trey was managing. Or, rather, that was the lie he told himself.
“Go on,” Trey rumbled.
“You sure?” Magnus’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I happen to know of a supply closet that’s got just enough room…” He winked.
Trey was all too familiar with that supply closet. They’d used it half a dozen times already when Trey’s willpower gave out before they could sneak out. Just thinking about it made his dick thicken behind the zipper of his damn jeans.
Trey responded by grunting and moving past Magnus. As it was, they’d already caught JJ’s attention, and the last damn thing he needed was her hounding him about the nature of their relationship.
A soft laugh sounded behind him, but Trey pretended not to notice.
*
AS THE CLOCK TICKED ON, THE NIGHTtransitioning to early morning, Brantley watched as Reese teetered on the barstool. More than once already, he’d nearly tumbled onto the floor.
While a few others had commented, finding Reese’s intoxicated state amusing, Brantley found no humor in the situation. He also couldn’t find it in himself to get Reese out of here, to save him from becoming the laughingstock of the night. The guy needed to sleep it off somewhere, but Brantley’d be damned if he was going to come to the man’s rescue.
“I take it you two haven’t made up?” Travis’s gravelly drawl sounded from his right.
He spared his cousin a glance. “No.”
“You happen to know where he’s stayin’?”
Brantley shook his head, shifted his attention back to Reese. “Motel, maybe?”
He damn sure wasn’t going to tell Travis that Reese had stayed at his house last night. Had Brantley been in his right fucking mind, he never would’ve allowed it to happen.
“Well…” Travis pushed to his feet. “We’re gonna call it a night. I’ll let him sleep it off on my couch.”
