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The man chuckled as he slipped out of the car. “God. Dean wasn’t kidding when he said soldiers make bad patients.”

“That your boyfriend?” Carter asked, not knowing why he kept making gay comments.

“An ex, actually,” Marco answered honestly, surprising Carter. “Due to conflicting interests, we decided to settle on being friends. He’s a medic and deals with difficult patients all the time.”

“I’m not being difficult,” Carter grumbled as he mounted the stairs behind Marco.

“Of course you’re not,” Marco said patiently, though Carter would swear he was being indulged. “But I’m sure you’ll be glad to know I have a first-floor apartment.”

He was, but Carter wasn’t going to admit it. Trying to mount more than a half-dozen steps sounded like a lot of work. He followed Marco down the carpeted hallway, which he noticed looked fairly new and well-maintained. He also noticed thedoors to the apartments on the first floor were evenly spread out, all four of them.

“Someone does well for themselves,” Carter muttered as Marco unlocked the door.

Marco chuckled, pushing open the door. “I do alright.”

Carter thought the man was a liar as they entered the apartment. It was a huge space, the ceiling at least twice as high as Carter thought the average ceiling was. A kitchen was immediately to his right, separated from the rest of the space by an opening and a half-wall on two sides.

The rest of the apartment was entirely open-plan. At the far back left, stairs led up to what looked like a loft, and even that wasn’t completely closed off from the rest of the space, being lined by more half-walls. The only closed place was the door at the back near the stairs, which Carter guessed was the bathroom.

“Yeah,” he said dryly, closing the door behind him. “Alright. You do a hell of a lot better than just alright.”

“Took me forever to find this place,” Marco said, ignoring Carter’s tone. “I grew up in this little town out in the Rockies. I never realized how attached to big, open spaces I was until I left home. No place I looked at felt right, but this felt perfect. Been here a while now.”

“And you dragged in a stray,” Carter said, eyeing the furniture apprehensively.

Marco snorted. “Sit wherever you want. Blood washes off leather easy.”

That was true, and he walked toward the living room area. It required him to step down into a sunken area stuffed with a plush couch, an equally soft-looking loveseat, and?—

“Is that a bean bag chair?” Carter asked with a laugh as he sat on the couch.

Marco’s voice echoed from somewhere behind him, apparently in the bathroom. “Absolutely. I had to look all over for one that didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.”

Carter looked around the space, seeing earth tones. His eyes returned to the bright pink bean bag chair between the brown and black furniture.

“I see you weren’t successful.”

“I was not, no. But that thing is comfortable as hell, and I don’t regret it for a second.”

Carter had to admit itdidlook pretty comfortable. The thing was big enough that even his bulk would have been comfortably wrapped up in it if he’d chosen to sit there. But considering he wanted to get up on his own at some point, he decided on the still comfortable but far more maneuverable couch instead.

Marco reappeared, dragging a footstool from somewhere. It was the first time Carter had seen the man in full light. He had the darkest eyes, narrowed in concentration, as he set a box on the floor between them and sat down. His hair caught the light, the brown turning almost copper from the streaks of dark red laced through the strands.

Marco clearly took care of himself, his broad shoulders carrying some muscle, though not nearly as much as Carter. Long fingers moved expertly to open the first aid box with a flick. His skin practically glowed in the light he’d switched on when entering the apartment, and Carter noticed him sucking in his bottom lip as he sifted through the contents of the box.

“I don’t have anything for a broken rib in here,” Marco said, pulling things out. “Just so you know.”

Carter glanced back at Marco’s eyes, finding his attention had been on the rest of the man. It didn’t appear like Marco had noticed, which Carter was grateful for. The guy was trying to do him a favor, and Carter didn’t need to return it by ogling.

Even if hewasworth ogling.

“I don’t think anything’s broken,” Carter admitted, pulling his hand away. “Since the pain doesn’t...hurt as much, I think it’s just bruised. Maybe cracked at worst.”

“Boy, you sure know how to comfort someone,” Marco muttered, pulling out a swab. “Now, lean back and let me see your face.”

Carter grunted and did as he was told. He knew his face probably looked a hell of a lot worse than it felt, and it already felt pretty bad.

“Couple of cuts on the left side and some bruising. Not much I can do about that,” Marco said. “And I’m guessing the right is where you took the mace.”