a kid.”
“Looks it. He’s what? All of twenty?”
“Twenty-four.”
“A baby then.”
“That kid has 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.”
Did he? That was a bit of a surprise considering the way Magnus had been eyeballing him a short time ago.
Hmm. Perhaps he shouldn’t write him off just yet.
Wait. Hold up.
Nope.
Nuh-uh.
He was not going to see Magnus as a challenge. He didn’t need any more fucking challenges in his life, thank you very much. He had more than his fair share, and the men he chose to fuck needed to be willing, eager, and easily cast off. That was a definite. Screwing a guy who worked for his brother would go against every single one of his rules. First being never screw a guy who worked for your brother.
They were new rules. So what.
He took another chug of his beer, briefly wondered where the hell the rest of it had gone.
“Cyrus better keep his damn hands off him,” Trey muttered to himself when he peered over to find Cyrus grinning like a loon, all up in Magnus’s personal space.
“Trey.”
He heard the warning in his brother’s tone, chose to ignore it.
“I gotta take a leak,” he said, setting his empty bottle on a nearby table with a little more force than he intended.
This was stupid.
He should not be here tonight. Not here, not thinking about Magnus, not worried about Cyrus. What he needed to do was walk right out the front door, hop in his truck, and head home. Alone.
But he didn’t go to the front door. Nope, his ass detoured down the narrow hallway—squeezing past a couple who appeared to be engaged in a rather intimate conversation—that led to the bathroom.
Sighing, he opened the door, grateful when he found it was empty.
Once inside, he did his business then washed his hands, focusing on inhaling and exhaling. There was no reason he needed to get in a pissing match with Cyrus tonight. The guy had just as much right to be here as Trey did. And since Trey had no designs on Magnus, they could get as acquainted as they wanted. He didn’t give a shit.
As he dried his hands with the scratchy paper towels, Trey stared at his reflection in the mirror, mentally repeated that last part, and nodded his head, as though in agreement.
Feeling somewhat better, he exited the bathroom only to come face-to-face with Cyrus, who appeared to be waiting for him in the hallway.
“What do you want?” Trey barked, figuring they had to hash this out or his night would definitely be in the shitter.
He ignored the eyes that shifted his way, the couple now interested in this tête-à-tête.
“To talk,” Cyrus said, his voice lower, lacking that easygoing charm he’d laid on thick earlier.
“Nothin’ to talk about, Cy. It’s done. It’s over. You made it clear what was more important.”
When he tried to sidestep Cyrus, he came up short, the other man blocking his path.
“Don’t do this,” Trey warned.
“Do what? Force you to talk to me?”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“No?” Cyrus stepped forward, chuckled softly. “You’re always in the mood.”
Trey’s gaze caught on movement behind Cyrus. That was when he noticed Magnus stepping into the hall, heading in their direction.
“Let it go, Cy,” Trey said, this time trying to dodge the other way.
Cyrus blocked him again.
“Why don’t we just go back to your place,” Cyrus suggested. “We can—”
“Hey,” Magnus interrupted, a frown on his face, as though he wasn’t pleased by what they were doing. “What’s goin’ on here?”
To Trey’s surprise, Cyrus stepped back, gave Trey room to breathe. If he’d had time to be grateful, he would’ve been.
“Now it gets