Saturday, July 30, 2022
By Saturday night, Trey was getting on his own nerves. He’d spent the entire week wallowing in self-pity to the point he wanted to punch his whiny ass in the face.
Since he didn’t care to get drunk alone—something he’d stopped doing a long time ago when he’d acknowledged he was on a downward slide—he decided to head down to Moonshiners. Saturday nights were the busiest for the bar, so there was a good chance he would see someone he knew. At least this way, he could play pool and carry on a conversation with someone other than himself and have a beer or two.
When he arrived a little after nine, the parking lot was full, the bar bustling. Several people on the makeshift dance floor were attempting to line dance to “Achy Breaky Heart” while onlookers cheered them on. All the stools at the bar were occupied, and there were groups crowded around the pool tables. Looked like he’d made the right decision tonight.
Trey made his way to the bar, skimming all the faces to find someone he knew, and that’s when he saw them. Evan Vaughn, Slade Elliott, and the new guy, Atticus James, were sitting at a table near the back wall, engaged in conversation. Slade was grinning ear to ear while Atticus was talking. Evan looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, so Trey decided to head over, figuring he could give his old partner an out if he wanted one.
“Thanks, Rafe. Start a tab for me, will ya?” Trey told the bartender as he took the cold bottle and sauntered toward the back.
Evan’s gaze landed on him first, his surprise there one second, gone the next. Trey grinned, lifting his bottle in greeting.
“Well, look who it is,” Slade said with a shit-eating grin. “How the hell’ve you been, man?”
“Good.” It was a harmless lie. “You?”
“Same ol’ same ol’.” Slade nodded to Atticus. “You remember the new kid.”
“Kid, my ass.” Atticus snorted, his eyes shifting to Trey. “I figure twenty-five’s old enough to know better, young enough to do him anyway.”
Ah, hell. Atticus had looked right at Trey when he said him. And since that’s not how the saying went, Trey got the impression that Atticus was flirting. It wouldn’t have been more obvious if he’d used you instead of him. He’d heard Reese grumble about Atticus a few times in recent weeks, claiming the guy had no problem openly flirting with Brantley. Reese had said the kid wasn’t a real threat because he understood Brantley was spoken for, and Trey had believed him. More so when Reese relayed how his mother had hit Atticus over the head with a baseball bat the first time she saw him. Reese told him he used that to warn Atticus off anytime he started crossing the line.
The kid was obviously a natural flirt, especially since that gleam in his eyes said he was looking to throw caution to the wind tonight.
Trey took a pull on his beer and quickly assessed him. He was damn easy on the eyes with dark hair—floppy on top, tapered at the sides and back—and those mischievous green eyes. A couple of years ago, Trey would’ve found him just perfect for a night of sin and debauchery. These days, he didn’t find even the prospect appealing. He preferred dark hair and hazel eyes with a body built to take everything Trey could dish out. This kid looked like he’d blow away in a stiff breeze.
“Magnus with you?” Evan asked, dragging Trey’s attention back.
“Pull up a chair,” Slade insisted before Trey could answer.
He started to reach for one at the next table, but Atticus beat him to it, pulling it over and gesturing for him to sit. If he thought that gesture was gonna get him laid tonight, the kid had better think again.
“I honestly don’t know,” Trey told Evan. “Probably at home.”
“How’re things at Camp K-9?”
Trey shrugged and bided some time by drinking his beer. “I quit workin’ there last week.” When Evan’s muddy brown eyes turned curiously concerned, Trey tacked on, “Ava’s all healed up, so Magnus came back to work. I was only helpin’ out temporarily.”
It was the same thing he’d told his brother, and while it wasn’t the whole truth, it wasn’t a lie either. Perhaps he’d hoped things might progress with them to the point he could become a permanent fixture. But then he’d basically sat back and watched Ava and Magnus fall in love with each other right before his eyes. Taking his leave seemed like the better option.
Then how the fuck do you explain that kiss?
Trey downed half his beer to drown out that fucking voice. The last thing he wanted to do was think about how Ava’s kiss had knocked him for a fucking loop. It’d been unexpected, but his reaction to it more so. Since then, he’d found himself daydreaming about shit he had no business even thinking about.
“How’re things at the office?” Trey asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Same ol’ shit, different day,” Slade answered.
“Is that your answer for everything?” Evan grumbled.
“What?”
“Same ol’ shit,” Evan drawled, mimicking Slade’s laid-back country twang.
“It’s true, ain’t it?”
Trey smirked as he watched the interaction between the two. He’d heard that Slade and Evan had partnered up on the task force after Trey left. Evan was the silent, brooding type, and Slade the outgoing, never-met-a-stranger kind. The two mixed about as well as oil and water except when it came to solving cases. They had a knack for uncovering things no one else thought to look for.
The four of them spent the next couple of hours shooting the shit while Trey sucked down one beer after another. His limit of three had gone out the window when he saw a petite blond who reminded him of Ava wearing those damn cowboy boots. Since she strolled into the bar, Trey’s thoughts had gone off the rails. He was doing his best to drown out the noises in his head, the ones telling him he should check in with Magnus, see how Ava was doing. He hated how he’d left things with her, brushing off her text message like it didn’t matter. Truth was, he’d been as conflicted about that kiss as he was with how things ended with Magnus.
And while he was getting three sheets to the wind, Trey avoided Atticus’s blatant advances. If he’d thought for one second the kid wasn’t playing with him, he would’ve quickly put him in his place. But something told Trey that Atticus enjoyed the banter far more than he would enjoy anything else. Brantley had mentioned he was a lone wolf, but he didn’t go into details. Since Trey had no desire to get cozy with anyone right now, he settled for pretending not to notice.
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 the sound 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. It doesn’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.”
Magnus didn’t bother to deny it because Ava was the most precious thing.
“First time I saw it, I wondered why you never looked at me that way,” Trey grumbled, most of the words incoherent. “I was never enough for you, Magnus. You told me so yourself.”
He’d never said any such thing, but he knew Trey was referring to the fact Magnus stood by his claim that he needed to be with a man and a woman. That never changed, despite how much he loved Trey. For a short time, he’d even tried to convince himself Trey had changed him because Magnus couldn’t imagine his life without the man. This past week had been torture because it was the first time in a year and a half that he hadn’t gotten to see him every single day. The physical ache in his chest had nearly taken him out at the knees more than once, but he was trying to push forward. After all, what other choice did he have?
“You should fuck her some more,” Trey mumbled, his voice getting softer. “I don’t give a shit anymore.”
“Trey? Listen to—”
“Fuck you, Magnus. I don’t love you anymore. That should make you happy.”
The call ended, and Magnus sucked air into his lungs as he stared at the screen. He breathed past the pain as his heart shattered. Not once in all the time he’d known Trey had the man admitted that he loved him.
Not until he told him that he didn’t.
***
Ava watched as Magnus lowered the phone to his side. He looked like someone had just told him one of his dogs had died.
She didn’t think before she crawled into his bed with him. She didn’t ask if he was okay with it when she pressed up against his side, draping her arm across his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder and held him tightly. His heart beat fast in her ear, and his breaths were coming more rapidly. It was apparent he was trying to hide his pain.
“Was that Trey?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.
He nodded. “He was—” Magnus cleared his throat. “He was drunk.”
“What did he say?”
Magnus’s arm curved around her back, and he pulled her tighter against him. She clung to him as much as she could, wanting to alleviate every ounce of pain and heartache he suffered. She knew it wouldn’t be enough, but she didn’t want him to be alone.
“That he doesn’t love me anymore.”
Tears formed in Ava’s eyes as she clutched him tighter. Her heart was breaking for Magnus. She’d never heard either man speak those words between them, but she didn’t have to hear them to know how they felt about one another. Even when they were drifting apart, she’d witnessed those longing glances. Trey would stare at Magnus when he didn’t think anyone was looking, and Ava could swear she could feel his pain. And Magnus … the way he’d talked about Trey, sharing stories about how they met when she would ask … there was no doubt in her mind they would stay together. How could they not with that much love between them?
And then she’d come along…
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Go to sleep, Ava,” he rasped.
The torment in his voice was enough to have her closing her eyes. She imagined Trey was somewhere else suffering the same fate as Magnus. Two stubborn men were unwilling to open their eyes and see what they wanted was right in front of them.
She could never replace Trey, didn’t want to, but she loved Magnus, too.
For now, she hoped it would be enough.