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“Making it look like Santa threw up all over the place.”

“Oh, god damn it, not you too,” Matt complained.

Nick gave his trademark lazy grin. “C’mon man, you’ve got the biggest, gaudiest wreath on the front door, even compared to the front door of the Christmas store downtown.”

“It’s Christmas!” Matt complained as if that was all the explanation needed.

Nick crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned against the doorway. Even with the slouch, he was a little taller than Matt. That wasn’t because Matt was short, Nick was just genuinely tall and broad. He wasn’t built as thick and burly as Sean, but he was tall and wide enough to be intimidating. Or, he would be if it weren’t for his light skin, bright blue eyes, and yellow blond hair. He looked like the quintessential boy next door. He even had a lopsided smile and a faint smattering of freckles over his nose to add to the image.

Matt was built a little thicker than Nick but a few inches shorter, and he was dark to Nick’s fair. Considering he didn’t know his family, he could only guess what heritage had given him his coal-black hair, dark brown eyes, and the ability to go copper rather than red in the sun.

Nick squinted at him. “Where’d you go just now?”

“Uh,” Matt hedged. “I’d say nowhere, but I actually can’t remember.”

There was no way on God’s green earth he would admit he’d been comparing them physically. It would sound weird as hell, even coming from Matt’s mouth.

Sure, he could admit his best friend was an attractive man. To Matt, that was just an honest assessment, one he’d given before. But to draw too much attention to his opinion of Nick’s looks would, again, be weird.

And it wasn’t like Matt was against looking at guys. There had been that one incident when he was younger with another dude, but it hadn’t exactly sparked anything in him. His eyes still lingered over women, and it had been women he’d dated. So, really, it shouldn’t have been that weird that he was comfortable enough to notice things like his best friend’s looks or compare them.

Nick grunted. “You’re still a shit liar.”

“Hey! What makes you think I’m lying?”

“You’ve got that look on your face that says whatever you were thinking about was probably weird, and because I asked, you got even more weird thoughts.”

Matt tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. “That’s a very specific look.”

“You have a very expressive face.”

“Or maybe you’re just weird and somehow learned to translate the slightest twitch of my eyebrow like a stalker.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I know. I might even know where you sleep and your favorite places to eat and hang out. That’s gotta be a creepy idea.”

“Probably even seen me naked.”

“Mm, speaking of, put on some pants. I’ll get some food going.”

Matt huffed. “I have food.”

“Let me guess, microwave food?”

“Uh, no?”

“Uh-huh.”

Matt sighed. “Might be a burrito.”

“How you’ve managed to live this long without dying from heart failure is beyond me,” Nick muttered as he walked back toward the front of the apartment.

“This from the man who uses so much goddamn butter he might as well have the last name Deen!”

“Better than the frozen crap you nuke three times a day,” Nick shouted back.

Matt gave another huff and shut the bathroom door. Okay, maybe he wasn’t all that handy in the kitchen. As a matter of fact, he had the dubious honor of being the only one on the team who was never given cooking duty. Nick was generally giventhe job, if only because he could whip up something remotely pleasant with the worst ingredients.

Sighing, he dried off, smiling when he heard the music turn down enough that it wasn’t blaring but still traveled clearly down the hallway. He wiped the mirror and looked himself over. There were enough marks on his body that he was sure someone could have played a bizarre version of connect the dots.