Out on the balcony, the cool Boston breeze whipped against the glass, but the atmosphere between the two men was charged with an entirely different kind of gravity. Marcus leaned against the railing, taking a sip from his drink, and looked over at his best friend.
"Alright, spit it out," Marcus said, crossing his arms. "You practically dragged me out here. What do you want to chat about?"
Killian didn't answer right away. He stared out over the city skyline, his jaw clenched, his large hands gripping the balcony railing so tightly his knuckles turned white. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, rough growl, stripped of all his usual corporate calculation.
Fuck, man... I basically demanded she move in with me just this morning, and a few hours later, she’s here. I've got it bad for
