“What the fuck?” Blake exclaimed, standing in the doorway like he owned the place.
Ethan passed by Beau without a word, his attention seemingly focused on the little man standing in the foyer. Beau noticed how tense Ethan was, his body a straight line, his muscles rigid and flexing as he moved.
“My thoughts exactly,” Ethan barked, his voice echoing through the open space. “How the fuck did you get in my house?”
“You gave me a key, remember?” Blake responded, his argument not nearly as assertive as Beau would’ve expected.
Beau wasn’t sure which way he should go. There he was, standing in Ethan’s dining room, wearing nothing but his jeans, so it was a little obvious what they had been doing. Did he go back upstairs and get dressed? Did he try and sneak out the back door? Was he supposed to pretend that Blake’s arrival didn’t piss him the fuck off?
Beau had never been in a situation like this, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do.
“Give me the fucking key,” Ethan yelled.
“Tell me why he’s here, first,” Blake argued, his voice going higher with each word.
“That’s none of your fucking business,” Ethan ground out, his words dripping with malice.
Beau knew the smart thing to do would be to sneak out of the house. The less confrontation the better. He knew Ethan well enough to know he’d deny any sort of relationship, interaction, or whatever the hell he wanted to call it and quite frankly, Beau wasn’t sure he could listen to Ethan deny there was anything between them.
It was one thing for Ethan to keep up that wall he’d built around himself where Blake was concerned, but Beau had penetrated that wall, caused a fissure to start at the base, threatening the stability of all that denial and he hated to lose the little bit of progress he’d made. If he stayed, he’d just end up getting defensive, or worse, protective of Ethan. And he knew that wasn’t going to go a long way to remaining in Ethan’s good graces.
As quietly as he could, Beau slipped back upstairs, trying to ignore the vehement argument that was going on in the entryway downstairs. He didn’t want to hear Ethan and his excuses. He’d heard so many before and although Beau had developed some strong feelings for Ethan, he knew better than to act on them so soon.
Hell, it had taken him months to get to this point, it wasn’t like things were going to change overnight.
Speaking of overnight, Beau glanced at the clock and realized it was almost ten. And since Ethan had informed him earlier in the day that he needed to be at work by seven, Beau knew he needed to go. Now seemed like the opportune time.
Beau took a detour into the bathroom to take care of business and then made quick work of pulling on his shirt, socks and boots. Making sure he had his wallet and his keys, he glanced around Ethan’s room briefly. Why was he stalling? And better yet, why did he have the strange desire to stay the night? He just wanted to return to that oversized bed and pull Ethan up against him for the next, oh, say, eight hours or so.
After he kicked Blake’s scrawny ass to the fucking curb.
Shaking off the thought and refusing to let his disappointment get the better of him, Beau palmed his keys and then headed toward the stairs. The voices were still loud and angry, so he knew his hasty retreat wasn’t going to go over well. Not with Blake and probably not with Ethan. He just hoped he could keep from pounding Blake into the floor. He didn’t want to leave with Blake still there, but it wasn’t like he could stand around and defend Ethan’s honor. That was a surefire way to get his own ass booted to the curb.
When he made his way back downstairs, he followed the way to the argument still fanning flames near the front door. He stopped short as soon as he saw Blake’s hand wrapped possessively around Ethan’s very naked bicep. His other hand was pressed flat against Ethan’s equally naked chest.
Beau growled, a sound that was low and menacing and uncontrollable. It was apparently loud enough to catch Ethan’s attention even over Blake’s pleading and begging. He tried desperately to ignore the feeling, that possessive instinct that had reared its ugly head. If he stayed, he would likely cause a scene, and that was the last thing he wanted. He just had to get out of there.
Unable to swallow past the lump in his throat, Beau couldn’t even come up with the words to say goodbye. Making sure he made physical contact with Ethan as he brushed past, he glanced back over his shoulder when he reached the door, wishing… shit, he didn’t even know what he wished for.
He had the door open and one foot out in the crisp night air before he heard Ethan say his name. With his stomach churning and his heart pounding, he turned to face him, scared of what the man might say. The next word out of Ethan’s mouth almost had Beau’s knees buckling beneath him.