Logan felt as if he’d walked into World War III when he came through the front door carrying two bags of groceries. Kiel and Noah were shooting dagger glares at each other, while someone he could see only enough of to tell he was male watched.
He took two more steps forward, about to ask what was going on, then stopped. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Brice turned with a shrug. “That seems to be the question of the evening. I actually came to see you.”
“Why?” Logan didn’t bother to wait for a reply as he headed to the kitchen.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Brice said to the others and hurried after Logan. He found him putting perishables into the refrigerator. “I seem to have caused a problem, coming here,” he murmured.
“Looks like. What’s that all about?” Logan replied as he finished up and began to put cans and boxes of food onto one of the cupboard shelves.
Brice blew out a long breath. “You don’t want to know.”
“Yeah, I do actually. Those two are friends of mine, and apparently you’ve managed to do something fuck up their relationship, at least from the look of it.”
“It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t know Noah lived here too.”
Logan leaned against the counter to stare at Brice. “So along with everything else you’re gay, and you and Noah..?”
“Forget that. Are you fucking Noah? Is he fucking you? And for how long?”
* * * *
“Are you fucking him, or is he fucking you?” Kief asked Noah, torn between pain and rage.
“Neither,” Noah replied as he paced the living room. “Skye, you might want to leave now.”
“Actually, no. As long as you two are fighting I’m sticking around to make sure you don’t kill each other,” she told him as she moved to the window seat and settled down.
Kief ignored the byplay as he said, “What do you mean neither?”
“Okay, this is going to sound weird.” Noah stopped where he was, trying to frame a reply that would make sense. "I’ve known Brice longer than I've known you, Kief. He’s a… He’s not in the closet—he’s had male lovers—but he keeps them very private. The problem is that sometimes he needs the kind of release from the tensions of his life and his job that they can’t or won’t give him.”