Wood ran his hand through his messy gray-and-black hair. “I don’t believe you. I can tell that you still—”
“How many times does he have to fuckin’ say drop it?” Mike growled, glaring at Wood in a way that made Rayne freeze in place.
It took too long for Rayne’s confused gaze to ease off the side of Mike’s face, but he ultimately did. The back door opened and closed, and he didn’t turn around to watch Rayne walk away. What the hell is it about that guy?
Mike was so damn exhausted, wired, confused, and then more wired that he couldn’t think straight.
“I know that look, Mike. And I’m telling you right now… he’s off-limits. You know Rayne is in recovery, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone take advantage of it.” Wood broke the tense silence when they were almost to Mike’s house. “You think you’re the first straight man that’s wanted a piece of Rayne?”
It took the remainder of the trip until they were pulling into Mike’s curved driveway before he’d calmed himself enough to say the words he wanted to say without following it with a quick swipe of his blade across Wood’s cheek for his disrespect.
“First of all, you don’t know what the hell I want. But if you did, you better stay the fuck outta my way, Wood, while I go get it,” Mike threatened and got out of the truck.