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Matt hesitated, then blocked the door from closing. “Wait.” He had come here for a reason, and he refused to let this prick intimidate or manipulate him the way he did Miles.
Slowly drawing the door open again, Hank drawled with an infuriating smirk, “Wait… for what?”
Matt shifted and cleared his throat. “I didn’t just come here to deliver the beer.”
Intrigued, Hank cocked an eyebrow. “No?”
“I want to talk to you about Miles.”
“What about Miles?”
When Matt hesitated, he silently chided himself.Where’s all the bravado you displayed back at the house? What happened to putting this asshole in his place?
The answer wasn’t immediately present.
You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into?
Was Miles right? He’d warned Matt about his stepbrother, but Matt had dismissed those warnings. Had that been a mistake?
“Come in.” Hank stepped back and gestured for Matt to enter. “We can talk inside.”
Matt stared through the doorway, every nerve and chromosome in his body crackling in a state of synapsis. Taking a deep breath, Matt walked into the house with an air of confidence that was wholly manufactured.
This is a bad idea. A bad, BAD idea.
Three
“A beer?” Hank smirked and held up the paper bag after taking Matt to the living room.
“No, thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” Hank dug into the bag and grabbed a can, still cold from the store, then set the paper bag on the coffee table. He popped the tab on the beer while eyeing Matt’s bulge.
My boner is Miles’ doing.
Even now? After all this time? Hank had his doubts.
“Have a seat.” Hank flopped on the sofa, arms stretched across the back, beer gripped in his right hand, legs open. His tight boxer briefs accentuated his thick dick, hardly containing the muscle. Hank’s mouth twitched when Matt grabbed a quick look at his cock line, then averted his eyes.
Matt remained standing and appeared more nervous than he had outside.
“So…” Hank smiled dryly. “You’re here to talk about Miles.” He smirked and deliberately shifted his hips, opening his legs a fraction more, testing Matt. The young man glanced again at his crotch, fleetingly.Good boy.“What’s the little runt done now? Not doing it for you in the sack?” He snorted. “Not surprised. I’ve seen that pathetic little worm that dangles between his legs.”
Matt looked at him, clearly biting back a sharp reply. Even so, a tightness squeezed his voice when he spoke. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Miles is finein the sack.”
“Fine?” Hank scoffed. “Well, there’s some glowing praise. When someone says you’refinein bed—it means you fuckingsuck.”
“Not this time.” Matt’s face twitched. “And I’m not here to talk about anything Miles has done, but whatyouare doing.”
“Me?” Hank cocked an eyebrow. “What have I done?”
Matt hesitated when Hank stared at him with intense, intimidating eyes.
“You…” Matt cleared his throat. “You treat Miles like shit. You’re making his life miserable.”
Hank squinted with deeper interest, his smile stretching. “Am I, now?” he murmured. “And I thought we had a great relationship. Bros hanging out, sharing a pad, joking around.”
“Your jokes aren’t funny,” Matt said. “They’re mean. You’re mean.”
