Exposed (VIP 4)

He says it just the same way he did when we were kids after a concert, all confident swagger and drawling arrogance. But there’s a glint of nostalgia in his eyes, a flicker of dry humor like he knows I need something to lighten the moment. And it’s irresistible.

A bubble of true laughter leaves me.

“Yeah, Ryland,” I say with a grin. “That blew me the fuck away.”

“Fuck yeah, it did.” His smile grows, and I can’t help but return it. We grin at each other like robbers after a successful heist. But I don’t move. And neither does he.

Shit. I don’t know what to do here, which is a first for me. Normally, I know immediately if I want a lover to stay or go. But this is Rye. He has a knack for twisting me up and making me want what I shouldn’t.

Rye solves the problem by standing. The sheet slips free, and he’s…God. It’s unfair how good he looks naked. He holds my gaze, his big dick swaying between his thickly muscled thighs as he walks toward me. My breath grows short as he draws near.

He smells of sex and heat and promise. The pulse at the base of his neck visibly beats, but he simply leans down and gives me a soft kiss before pulling away. “I’ll head out in a minute, okay?”

It’s definitely a question. I can object if I want to.

I can’t meet his eyes. “Okay.”

His only reaction is to brush another kiss over my forehead before heading into the bathroom.

It isn’t the most awkward post-sex exchange I’ve had. But it’s the most uncomfortable. Because a voice inside me is screaming that I’ve made a huge mistake.

Chapter Twelve

Rye

I am changed. I feel it in my bones, in the way the world around me suddenly looks different. Edges are sharper, colors are deeper, smells are stronger. I am aware of the way my body moves through the air, of every ache and twinge gained from losing myself in her. Everything is different.

In the words of “Amazing Grace”: “I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now I see.”

Yes, I’ve taken to quoting hymns in my head. That’s what Brenna has done to me. It’s terrifying. But I’m strangely happy about being terrified.

In short, I’m one messed-up dude.

Laughing, I head for Madison Square Park, where I’m meeting Scottie and Jax at Shake Shack. If they notice my mood, they don’t say a word while we wait in line. True, Scottie keeps giving me disapproving looks, but Scottie’s go-to expression is disapproving, so I don’t think twice about it.

I’m setting my strawberry shake down on the table just at the edge of the park area when Scottie launches his attack.

“You’ve gone and slept with Brenna, haven’t you?”

Pink shake flies over my arm and shirt as my hand reflexively squeezes tight and destroys the cup. “Shit!”

Blandly, Scottie hands me a pack of wet wipes he keeps in his briefcase.

I grab them and mop up the mess before tossing my empty shake cup into the trash. “You did that on purpose.”

One, imperious brow lifts. “Made you mess yourself? If only I had such power.”

Grunting, I sit on an empty chair. “I’m not ruling it out. And quit talking shit. Someone might hear and think you’re serious.” Thankfully, the park is fairly empty today. Even so, I have to shut this line of conversation down. Fast.

Unfortunately, Scottie just stares with that gimlet eye he’s perfected over the years. “You’re evading. It won’t work. Did you have to screw Brenna?”

Anger swarms in my gut and tightens my muscles. He makes what Brenna and I did last night sound cheap, sordid. As it is, I’m having a tough time ignoring how we parted. She’d clearly wanted me out before the sweat we’d worked up had even dried. It hurt, but I didn’t say a word to make her even more uncomfortable. There was no point. Either she wanted me there, or she didn’t. It was her choice. Not mine.

I can only hope that she’ll eventually want me for more. Scottie’s reproachful expression drives home that everyone appears to be hoping for the opposite.

“Enough.” I glance at the line where I know Jax is waiting for his shake. I don’t see him, which means he could be lurking anywhere. “Do not say another word.”

“I’m not going to tell Jax.”

“Tell me what?” Jax asks, popping out of nowhere like Houdini and making me jump. “That Rye and Brenna are bumping uglies?”

I glare at Scottie. “Seriously?”

The man nearly rolls his eyes. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t tell him. I prefer to keep all your secrets to myself. Much easier to manipulate you sods that way.”

Jax frowns. “That’s creepy, Scottie.” He turns to me as he takes a seat. “He didn’t tell. Give me a little credit. I can read you guys like a headline. It was obvious you two are doing the bump and grind. The Humpty Dance. Netflix and chillin’. Etcetera, etcetera.”