Hunted - 18

With Logan’s address in hand, Brice drove to Logan's residence. He’d expected it to be an apartment building, so he was surprised when he saw an older, three story house instead. For a moment he thought Logan might own it—even though that didn’t fit with what he knew of him. Then he realized it was a boarding house. He parked in front, took the steps two at a time up to the porch, and knocked on the door.

The door was opened a minute later by a pretty blonde girl who looked to be in her early to mid twenties. Her eyes widened in shock and she stuttered, “Come in…please…oh my god.”

Brice chuckled as he stepped past her, and introduced himself—although it was apparent she knew who he was. “I’m looking for Logan Fitzgerald. I was told he lived here.”

Skye took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m Skye. I’ll go see if he’s around. Please have a seat.” She pointed to the living room before she disappeared up the stairs.

Brice looked around it with interest. It was fairly obvious, from the various books and other articles sitting on tables or shelves, that this room was shared by everyone who lived in the house. And yet despite the surface clutter the room was neat and clean—as was the small dining room he discovered, when he took a peek into it. He was about to explore further when he heard the girl on the stairs. By the time she reached the hall he was back in the living room.

“I’m sorry but Logan’s not here,” Skye told him. “Kief says he went grocery shopping.”

“Would it be all right if I waited?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please call me Brice. Sir makes me feel like an old man.”

“Which you’re not, you’re …” When Brice cocked an eyebrow Skye said quickly, “You can’t be more than, well the stuff I’ve read says you’re thirty but you don’t look more than…umm…twenty…five?”

With a laugh Brice told her thirty was correct but good genes helped him seem younger.

At that point a slender, dark-haired young man came into the living room. Skye introduced him as Kief, another one of her house-mates.

“So you’re the infamous wolfman.”

“Wolfman? I presume, well I hope you mean in terms of my TV show.”

“Yes. Logan called you that and I think it fits. You’re definitely built for the part.” Kief’s eyes roved over Brice rather blatantly until Skye smacked his arm and told him to behave, with the reminder that he was already taken and Brice was straight.

Brice smiled in amusement but didn’t bother to correct her assumption.

At that moment the front door opened and Noah appeared. Apparently he didn’t see Brice as he headed straight for Kief, wrapped an arm around his waist and gave him a kiss, along with a muttered apology for being late. Then he turned and froze. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked Brice angrily.

“You know him?” Kief looked between the two men.

“We’re…acquainted,” Brice replied. “Although I didn’t know this was where he lived.”

Kief easily picked up on the tension in Noah’s face and body and pulled back to look at him. “How do you know him?” he asked quietly.

“He’s…a friend of sorts,” Noah muttered. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“From the way you’re acting I’d say he was more than just a friend.” Kief turned to look at Brice. “Unless you tell me he’s your accountant, which I doubt from his reaction, I can only presume that the two of you… That you’re about a straight as I am, Mr. Davies.” Then he spun back to look at Noah. “All those late nights…you…you bastard.”

“Please let me explain,” Noah said plaintively.

Kief glared at him. “This should be interesting.”