Page 6

“Yeah, but?—”

Sloane narrowed his eyes. “I’d ask you if it would be any different for you to be friends with a woman, but I don’t think you know how to be around a woman who isn’t Trisha without acting like a fucking idiot.”

“Only because I’ll break his fingers,” Trisha piped up.

“Just because I’m friends with Dean doesn’t mean I’m with him,” Sloane continued, ignoring her.

John wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t it...weird, though?”

“How the fuck would it be weird? It’s called being friends. You have those, don’t you?” Sloane demanded.

“Well, yeah, but they’re not, you know?—”

“The word is gay. You can say the word without suddenly wanting to have a dick in your mouth,” Sloane growled.

Trisha snorted, but John’s frown only deepened. “You don’t worry about him like, trying to hit on you, or get with you, or like...you know.”

Sloane set his phone down on the desk and leaned forward, dangerously close to the private. “Just because you don’t know how to exist around the gender you’re attracted to without acting like a fucking pervert doesn’t mean everyone else can’t. What he does or doesn’t do isn’t any of your goddamn business, and if you don’t want to end up losing a few teeth before the end of the shift, I advise you to shut the hell up about him.”

John’s eyes widened, and he visibly leaned away from Sloane. “I...alright, touchy subject.”

“It isn’t touchy until someone gets stupid enough to run their mouth. Now fuck off and go check the fence or something. I’m tired of looking at you,” Sloane snarled.

John opened his mouth and glanced at Trisha, who subtly shook her head and thought twice about whatever he was going to say. With wide, wounded eyes, he pushed out of his seat and stomped out of the booth that served as the main gate to the base. Sloane watched him go, glaring at his retreating back and not letting himself relax back in his seat until John was out of sight.

“Dumbass,” Sloane grunted, snatching his phone back up to read his sister’s reply.

“Gotta give him credit. He looked like he was going to finish what he was saying, even with you ready to rip his lungs out,” Trisha said, flipping to the next page.

“I don’t have to give him credit for shit,” Sloane grunted.

“And, of course, he won’t keep his mouth shut.”

“Fine, let him tell people. Like I give a shit.”

“Which is only going to add to the rumors.”

Sloane looked up, wondered if he wanted to know, and finally gave in. “What rumors?”

Trisha looked up, her thin brow raised. “That you and Dean are more than just friends.”

“Oh. That,” Sloane said, turning his attention back to his phone.

From the moment he and Dean had become friends, the rumors about what he and Sloane were actually up to when no one was looking had started. They bothered Dean more than anything, which Sloane thought was weird as hell. He didn’t give a shit what anyone thought he was up to. He had nothing to prove to any of them.

“You would make a cute couple,” Trisha added.

Sloane sighed. “Don’t fucking start.”

Trisha chuckled. “You would. You have that big, manly, grumpy thing going for you, and Dean is...well, the doc is Doc.”

Sloane turned a scowl on her. “You saying he’s not manly?”

Trisha didn’t even blink. “There’s manly, and then there’s Sloane, six-plus feet of pure muscle, tattoos, and growly barking manly. Truth be told, it’s a little weird thinking of you with a woman or at least a really feminine one.”

Sloane blinked. “Excuse me?”

Trisha shrugged. “Putting someone girly with you seems weird.”