Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Pointing at the bed, Ian said, “Help yourself.”

Corey looked at him, wondering if it were just the alcohol that added the hint of sadness he heard in his friend’s voice, but Ian didn’t meet his gaze. Instead he headed for the chair and, scooping the clothes off it onto the floor, sank into its cushiony seat. He studied Corey with hooded eyes, unfathomable and incredibly bright in this dusky light. “Well?”

Corey pulled back the comforter, exposing pristine white sheets that still looked ironed. Ian hadn’t slept in the bed at all. As Corey eased between the covers, the sheets cool on his skin, he frowned and tried to forget about the girl in his own bed down the hall. What the fuck was he going to do about thatin the morning?

He didn’t know.