I Spy a Dark Obsession by Jo Davis

cute, and gazing at him in open curiosity with guileless expressions on their identical faces. Despite his hurt, he didn’t have the heart to be rude to them. “Ladies, my pleasure.”
    The one with red streaks in her hair swatted Michael’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us you had a supersexy best friend in the house? We should’ve invited him to play!”
    Bastian raised a brow at Michael as if to say, And why didn’t you?
    A flush colored Michael’s cheeks. “Well, I—”
    “Maybe Bastian doesn’t like the group scene, dingbat,” her sister said. Then she gave Bastian a speculative, hungry look. “Do you?”
    Uh-oh. Caught like a three-legged antelope in a race with a lioness. He was in love with Michael, not dead. His best friend looked ready to disappear. . . . And suddenly Bastian was enjoying himself.
    He gave her a wicked grin. “Which sister are you?” he asked the one who’d posed the question.
    “I’m Jackie.”
    “Actually, Jackie, I love group scenes. I love sex, period, with both women”—he shot Michael a pointed, heated look—“and men.” Let them assume what they would.
    Jackie beamed. “Oh, wow!”
    “Damn, I’ll bet that’s hot!” Jeri’s wide-eyed gaze bounced between him and Michael, brimming with speculation. And lust. “Can we watch? Please?”
    The flush on Michael’s face deepened to the color of an eggplant. Bastian turned on the full force of his charm, taking evil delight in his friend’s discomfort. He’d feel bad later. Much later.
    “Oh, I think our friend here might be a teensy bit shy about that sort of thing. He’s still in the closet, you know,” he said in a conspiratorial voice.
    The girls nodded in tandem. “Hey, no problem,” Jeri said. But neither of the sisters could hide their disappointment.
    “I’m not in the closet,” Michael said stiffly. His protest was ignored.
    “Perhaps another time?” Bastian suggested in answer to Jeri’s suggestion. He glanced at his friend. Was it possible for a person’s head to explode?
    “Sure!” they squealed together.
    “Michael has our number,” Jackie informed him.
    “I’m sure he does.” He gave them a wink. “Unfortunately, I have to run. One of us has to bring home the bacon, so to speak. Until next time?” He blew a kiss at Michael. “Later, sweetie.”
    The women chorused their enthusiastic agreement while Michael sat in angry silence. And no wonder, with the ideas Bastian had planted in their pretty heads about their living arrangement. Michael was visibly furious that he’d insinuated they not only had sex, but were a permanent couple who played around.
    Bastian couldn’t care less, especially after listening to those two vocalize their appreciation of Michael’s prowess all frigging night long.
    Stalking through the kitchen, he bypassed the coffeepot and headed straight out the door. Fuck it; he’d drive through Starbucks. And order a triple-caffeinated, hot caramel mocha with four sugars and whipped cream. He’d stop by the gym after work and attempt to kill the calories, along with his frustration.
    Turning out of the gate, he soon lost himself in mulling over the strain of living with Michael now that the man was almost recovered. He didn’t know how he’d be able to take another night like last night, but he wasn’t about to leave before Dietz was captured or killed. Preferably the latter.
    He was so engrossed in his current misery, the vehicle following several cars behind him almost didn’t register. A silver sedan, nondescript, too far back for him to see the emblem on the grille or read the license plate— Wait, there is no front plate. It had been keeping pace with him for a few miles, never gaining, always leaving cars between them. An innocuous sedan among many, meant to attract no attention. An innocent motorist or a tail?
    As planned, he drove to Starbucks, but decided to park and go inside rather than using the drive-through. Under any other circumstances, he