Nate was frowning through the glass door on the drink refrigerator at the gas station when the little bell above the door tinkled. At first, he hardly noticed because his favorite Monster coffee flavor was not in stock, and this irritated him. Then the fridge door beside him opened and he glanced through it as he stepped to the side to give the other person some space.

And then he did a double-take.

Because that was Tanner bending down to grab some fancy electrolyte drink. He stared directly into Nate's eyes as he did so, which was difficult not to interpret as a challenge. The door bounced back shut, and then he continued to stand there staring.

Nate blinked back, refusing to give any ground and make the first move. His truck, out by the gas pump, was distinctive. Tanner must have seen it when he pulled in, which meant he'd known Nate was in the store when he decided to come in. And there was no way he needed to get something from right where Nate was standing. That was too much of a coincidence.

Maybe not, since it was a small town and there were only two gas stations after all, but still.

Nate lifted his chin.

"How's Bailey?" Tanner smirked.

That was about the worst thing that could have come out of Tanner's mouth.

"Don't even fucking say his name," Nate growled.

"Oooh," Tanner furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. "Touchy are we?"

"Sure," Nate unhooked his thumbs from where they'd casually been tucked into his jeans pockets and let them hang by his sides. It wasn't a big gesture, but the meaning was not lost on Tanner, who glanced down and then back up at Nate's face. Nate smiled. "I'd love to get my hands on you."

Tanner chuckled. "Making threats now, are we? Down dog. I'm just fueling up."

He shook the electrolyte drink in his hand.

"Cut the crap." Nate snapped, unable to help himself. Tanner just had to look so smug all the time. Reacting was probably exactly what he wanted, but damn if Nate wasn't itching to know how his cheekbone would feel fracturing under his knuckles. He ground his teeth together instead. "You came in here to talk to me. What the hell do you want?"

"Not everything is about you, Nathaniel," Tanner drawled. "Although it's nice to see you, because I've been meaning to warn you not to get involved with Bailey.

Nate's blood boiled, loud in his ears. "Who the fuck says we're involved?"

Tanner's eyes swept down and back up over Nate's body, condescending beyond belief. And then he scoffed. "I'm just saying he's psycho. He wants one thing for one minute, then completely changes his mind the next."

"Excuse me," a gruff voice split the air between them, "Sorry."

A man in a stained, sweaty orange work shirt and muddy boots wedged himself between them and opened the door to grab himself a couple of Monsters. Nate maintained eye contact with Tanner over his head. But Tanner seemed to have said what he wanted to and gave him a sarcastic little salute before spinning on his heel and turning for the cash register.

Nate glared at the back of his head until he was out of the store altogether.

Then he followed him.

Just before Tanner could shut his driver's side door behind himself as he got into his car, Nate caught up to him and grabbed it. He wrenched the door back open and stepped into the space between it and Tanner, sitting in the driver's seat. He glanced up in shock, clearly not having expected Nate to have the balls to assault him in broad daylight in the parking lot of a busy gas station.

Nate braced his arm on the top of the car and leaned down, not saying anything for a few seconds. The interior of Tanner's car was spotless, as if he had it detailed every week. Nate observed this, then looked at the man himself, who was also neat and preppy, and appeared to be a very nice guy.

"Nice car," he complimented loud enough that the guy in the orange shirt who was coming out of the gas station store could hear. Then he leaned a little closer to Tanner's face and murmured, "Shame if something were to happen to it just because you couldn't let go of an ex-boyfriend who wants nothing to do with you anymore."

He was not above slashing tires or pouring salt into gas tanks. He had a little sister who liked to have fun and got her heart stomped on a few times. Karlie never explicitly asked him about the fact that Daniel Harrington had to replace all his tires a week after she'd come home crying. It had been dumb, but he was seventeen, and dumb was his standard setting at the time. Probably still was since he was doing the same old shit. But Karlie had smiled when she heard about Daniel's car back then. And, right now, he felt a curl of satisfaction at the way Tanner's face paled.

He left it at that, not waiting to hear Tanner's response. Instead, he slammed the door shut on him and stalked back over to his truck. The grocery store might have his favorite Monster flavor, and he needed to stop there anyway to pick up some chips and salsa that Bailey asked him to bring over.

Later that evening, Bailey appreciated the snacks, munching happily as they lay with their legs twisted together and his laptop propped up on a pillow so they could watch the latest anime that Bailey had gotten invested in. Nate had not watched anything animated since he was a kid, but he found himself interested regardless, if only because Bailey was so into it.

What Bailey did not appreciate was hearing about Nate's altercation with Tanner. In retrospect, Nate should not have brought it up. But he remembered Karlie's knowing, grateful smile after he fucked up Daniel's car for her and thought stupidly that he would like to see the same expression on Bailey's face. Curse his fucking ego.

Bailey's chewing slowed. "What?"

Nate shrugged and started to repeat himself, "I told him to stop bugging you and me, or else I'd fuck up his car. So hopefully, he stops."

The chip back crinkled as Bailey shoved it away and sat up. This unbalanced the pillow on their laps, making the laptop slide off and land at an awkward angle on the mattress. Nate grabbed it and placed it upright.

"I cannot believe you would..." Bailey's throat worked as he swallowed, "Why didn't you just ignore him?"

Nate furrowed his brow. "I'm not gonna just let him come in and insinuate a bunch of shit and insult you to my face and call you a psycho and just get away with it."

Bailey's jaw dropped. Then he looked away, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Then he chuckled and shook his head.

"You are unbelievable sometimes." He shook his head some more. "What happened to all that talk about ignoring him because he was just trying to get a rise out of me?"

"Um," Nate rubbed the back of his neck because Bailey had a point, but he still couldn't see what the big deal was.

"I said you used up your one chance to be a selfish asshole, and you turn around and in less than a week go to my crazy possessive ex-boyfriend and threaten him?" Bailey's voice pitched up and shook.

Nate's heart dropped as he realized Bailey was not going to react the same way Karlie had.

"Hey," he grumbled, "He approached me."

"But you didn't have to follow him out of the store!" Bailey hollered, waving an arm around and shifting onto his knees. "What the fuck, Nate?"

"What the..." Nate clenched his jaw. "Why are you so upset?"

"Because I don't need you to prowl around town trying to defend my honor or whatever the fuck you think you are doing!"

"That is not what happened!"

"My honor is not yours to defend." Bailey spat.

Nate threw the blankets off his legs and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned down to grab his boxers and stood to step into them and pull them up around his hips. He was not going to argue with Bailey while in the nude.

Bailey kept going. "I'm not your fucking responsibility, okay?"

"Yeah, because you are so good at defending yourself," Nate scoffed as he zipped up his fly and reached for his shirt, which was slung over the bottom of the bed. Then something hit the back of his head. He grunted and looked back to see a pillow slumping to the ground. Under any other circumstances, it might have been the fun start of a pillow fight, but Bailey was glaring daggers at him, his body taught and teeth bared.

"And you going out of your way to threaten Tanner—to challenge him—is your idea of defending me?" Bailey shouted. "I'm not some fucking prize to be won. Tanner is my fucking mess, and you have no business getting involved in it."

Nate rubbed his forehead and frowned because maybe that was true. He'd been getting caught up in the roles of their power dynamic, where he played the part of someone taking care of Bailey, and Bailey played the part of a toy—a prize to be won. And this was all mixed up with the fact that he had tried to look out for Bailey when they were kids, as if he had some responsibility to do so. And they'd been doing things that couples do, like hanging around and watching stuff after sex.

But really, all they were doing was fucking.

They hadn't had a conversation about this being anything more--about them getting involved in each other's lives outside the bedroom. Well, except for who they should and should not tell. But, if anything, keeping it under wraps the way they have been doing was a strike against this turning into an actual relationship.

Nate sighed.

Then another pillow hit him, knocking the palm of his hand into his nose.

"Don't start treating me like I'm some object you own," Bailey kept ranting. "And turn into some possessive fucking asshole just like Tanner!"

Nate was on him in a second, kneeling across the bed and grabbing Bailey's shoulders to shove him down against the mattress and snarl right in his face, "I'm nothing like him."

"Oh, yeah?" Bailey sneered back.

His taunting suddenly struck Nate as odd. It was, historically, how most of their interactions had gone—snarling in each other's faces. But not since they started sleeping together. Bailey had dropped the act somewhat, and Nate did too. Seeing those walls slam right back up gave him pause. He'd poked his nose somewhere he was not allowed to go. Some vulnerability that Bailey still wanted to keep under lockdown. And so he was reverting to old habits to deflect Nate away.

Spitting blood back in his face and telling him to fuck off.

Trying to goad him into punching him.

Falling back into an old habit.

But Nate did not want to do that. So, he let go of Bailey's shoulders and reared up off the bed. Just in time to avoid a knee to the ribs.

"I'm not doing this with you," he stepped back toward the door.

"What?" Bailey growled, low and deadly.

"I'm not..." Nate rolled his shoulders, trying to dislodge some of the unease settling between them. "I'm just gonna go."

Bailey said nothing as he fled the room and then the house.