Marcus didn’t leave right away.

He stood in the doorway with the six-pack still dangling from his fingers, eyes moving between the three of us with open curiosity and something sharper underneath. The air in the apartment felt thick enough to choke on. I tugged Ethan’s shirt lower over my thighs, but there was no hiding the hickey on my neck or the thoroughly fucked look I was still wearing.

Aiden recovered first.

“Bad time, man,” he said, voice carefully casual. “We were just about to eat.”

Marcus’s gaze flicked to me again, then to Ethan’s hand resting possessively on my bare knee. “Uh-huh. Looks like it.”

Ethan stood up,...