In the morning, Vic shuffled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and grumpy. His flannel robe was cinched at his waist, revealing more pale flesh than it hid and earning him a wolf whistle from Matt. Seated at the dining room table, his lover busied himself with tying his sneakers as he leered at Vic. “You sexy thing.”
Vic growled deep in the back of his throat but didn’t bother to reply. Instead he poured himself a cup of coffee and tried to blink away the fog that clung to his waking mind. “I’m going to stop by Kroger today on my way home,” Matt was telling him. Vic heard his lover’s voice but the words themselves were meaningless. He could be speaking Greek for all Vic knew, this early in the day. “I’m thinking we should bring potato salad tomorrow. How’s that work for you?”
“Tomorrow?” V
