Page 21

“I’m not getting mad. I’m still mad. Fucking asshole,” Dean grunted, trying to grab the keys buried at the bottom of his jeans pocket.

“Alright, but have you considered that you were slow to tell him about us for a reason? Maybe you knew this was coming, and maybe it’s not all that bad?”

“How is this not bad? He was horrible!”

“He was a little...rude, yeah, you got me there. But c’mon, the two of you have been close for a while now, and he’s bound to feel out of sorts after having this dropped in his lap.”

Dean hooked his finger through the keyring and yanked the whole collection out with a satisfied grunt. “I didn’t drop anything in his lap. For God’s sake, Marco, the man is my best friend. He shouldn’t be pissed off that I’m dating. It’s not like I got mad whenever he was dating someone.”

“I thought you said he doesn’t date.”

“He doesn’t, not seriously, but there could have been, at any time, and I didn’t act like a complete shit about it.”

“No, but you’re also not him. You told me he’s pretty protective and a little territorial.”

Dean frowned. “How does this not bother you?”

“It bothers me because you’re so upset.”

“Oh God, don’t pull the good guy card right now. That just makes me feel even worse.”

Marco sighed. “That’s the problem. You’re taking this like you’re somehow responsible for it, and you’re not. On some level, you knew there might be a problem, and now you see you were right. Just give him and give you some time to breathe and figure it out. I bet this was just a knee-jerk response on his part. If he’s as good a guy as you say he is, he’s going to feel like dirt.”

“Which he should!”

“Dean.”

“Well, he should.”

Marco paused. “You’re...standing outside his apartment building right now, aren’t you?”

“We need to talk,” Dean said.

“Or, you could step back and breathe. If you go in there, one or both of you could end up saying something you’ll regret.”

“I think he has that covered already.”

“Well, I’m not going to try and stop you, but I will say that I don’t think it’s a good idea with you locked in the throes of a pissed-off mood.”

“Duly noted.”

“But disregarded?”

“Completely.”

Marco sighed heavily. “Okay, well, if you need to talk after you’re...done, just give me a call, or just summon me over.”

Dean grunted. “Thanks.”

“Talk to you soon.”

Dean ended the call, sliding his phone back into his pocket and twirling the keys around his finger as he stared at the front door to Sloane’s apartment building. He knew Sloane was home because he wasn’t scheduled for a shift today. Dean had already called the guardhouse and checked. Sloane wasn’t known for a whole lot of socializing, and he tended to stay at home on his days off or at Dean’s.

Before he could think too hard about how right Marco probably was, Dean stomped toward the door and up the stairs to Sloane’s apartment. Swinging the keys one more time, he flipped the key he needed forward and jammed it into the lock. To his surprise, the door opened easily, without him needing to unlock the deadbolt. Despite being on the relative safety of the base, Sloane’s childhood growing up in the seedier parts of Chicago had ingrained a lifelong habit of security, and he never kept his deadbolt unlocked.

“Sloane?” Dean called as he stepped through the door, glancing around.

Sloane’s wry voice followed a thump from the kitchen. “You’re a couple of hours later than I expected.”