Like all good times, they eventually came to an end. Since Trey’d had far too much to drink to get himself safely home, he requested an Uber and let the sober driver get him from the bar to his house. He could huff it into town tomorrow to pick up his truck or, worst case, call one of his kin to drive him.
As soon as he stepped into the house, he began stripping off his clothes, eager to land face-first in bed so he could sleep it off. It wasn’t until he was standing at the end of the hall and needed to make a choice about which bed he was going to sleep in that he felt that all too familiar longing hit him. He could go with the one in the master bedroom, which he’d avoided for the past few years because that’s where he’d slept with his ex-husband. Or the one in the guest room, where he’d fucked Magnus damn near every night for a year.
He hated both options for different reasons, and since he was too tired to figure it out, he marched back to the living room. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place, but since he’d spent the past few months nodding off right here, he figured one more night wouldn’t hurt.
***
Magnus was roused from sleep by thesound of his cell phone ringing. Since he never got calls in the middle of the night, he grabbed the phone and tapped the screen to answer without focusing enough on who it was.
“Yeah?”
“Magnus.”
Trey.
For some reason, Magnus couldn’t find his voice to speak, but his ears weren’t having a problem listening to Trey’s breathing on the other end.
“I know you’re there,” Trey slurred. “Magnus? Can you hear me?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m here. What do you need, Trey?”
“You.”
A painful tightness formed in his chest because he couldn’t count the number of times he’d wished that Trey would admit that since they met. He’d clung to all that stupid hope minute after minute, month after month, hoping that one day Trey would admit what they had was real, not some convoluted fuckfest that didn’t have an end date.
“Trey, you’re drunk.”
“So? Doesn’t mean I don’t need you, does it?” Trey countered hotly. “No. Itdoesn’t.”
The more words Trey spoke, the more inebriated he sounded. Magnus only hoped Trey hadn’t gotten behind the wheel in his current state. He’d always been smart in that regard, but sometimes Magnus didn’t know what Trey was capable of. Not in a million years had he expected Trey to just up and quit—both his job and Magnus. Yet here they were.
“Trey—”
“Shut up,” Trey hissed. “You’re gonna listen to me.”
Magnus snapped his mouth closed and took a deep breath, staring into the darkened room.
“That’s more like it,” Trey grumbled. “I like you better with your mouth shut.” He chuckled harshly. “No, I don’t. I like you better with my dick in your mouth.”
Oh, boy. Trey was definitely drunk, and he’d moved on from the touchy-feely phase and right into horndog land. Magnus had rarely encountered this side of Trey because Trey had always stood by his desire not to drink. He’d once told Magnus that he’d been dangerously close to fucking up his entire life while looking at the bottom of a bottle, and he refused to do that anymore.
“Trey, listen to me,” Magnus said when Trey was silent for a minute. “I know you, and when you wake up in the mornin’, you’re gonna hate yourself for this phone call. So I’m gonna give you a reprieve and let you go now.”
“No!” Trey shouted. “Not until I tell you somethin’.”
Magnus knew he should hang up. The only way this was going to end was badly. Trey was drunk enough to say things he would regret tomorrow morning, things that Magnus had been hoping to hear for so fucking long. Trey had the power to flay him open with those words, and tomorrow he’d be starting over on the process of trying to get over Trey.
A knock sounded on his bedroom door. A moment later, it opened and Ava walked in. She was wearing one of his T-shirts, something she’d started doing a couple of months back. She claimed they were comfortable to sleep in, and since he loved seeing her wearing his shirt, he had encouraged her to do so.
“Is everything okay?” she asked as she moved toward him. “I heard you on the phone.”
“Everything’s fine,” he assured her.
“Fuck,” Trey growled. “She’s there, ain’t she? She’s in your bed.” Trey grunted. “You’re probably fuckin’ her right now.”
“Trey, that’s not what’s happening.”
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. I’ve seen the way you look at her. Like she’s the most precious thing in the world.”
