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“And then you’d chase after me,” I say.
“And you’d be annoyed with me.”
“No,” I say softly. “I was never annoyed.”
Ryker hugs me. Wraps his arms around me and hugs me.
My whole body stiffens, but he doesn’t let go, so eventually I relax into him.
“I’m sorry,” he says when he finally pulls away.
“It is what it is. He’s dead anyway, so it doesn’t matter anymore. Chapter closed. Lesson learned.” I blow out a breath and glance at him. He has a strange look on his face that I can’t decipher. It’s weird. He’s usually an open book with everything—what he says, the expression on his face, the look in his eyes, even. Right now it’s like he’s pulled a curtain between himself and the rest of the world.
I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut and not ruined the evening. It’s much easier if we keep this thing between us superficial and lighthearted.
I broke the rules.
So I pat his knee, force some cheer into my voice, and get up. “And that’s the sorry tale of why I’m not a huge fan of my birthday. Too many bad memories.” I look around the rink, though, and the smile I put on for show feels pretty genuine all of a sudden, as if I’ve been unburdened. Ryker deserves all the credit, and in a twist that even surprises me, I want him to know that.
So I turn toward him. “Although, this birthday is actually not too bad. Best one I’ve had in years, for sure.”
In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I plant my palms on his knees, lean forward, and kiss him.
He’s still uncommonly serious when I pull away. I’d say he looks almost regretful, but that doesn’t really make sense. Fuck’s sake, it’s not his fault my family was, and still is, a royal mess.
I start to pull away, but he wraps his long fingers around my wrist and keeps me in place, crouched over him. He holds my gaze, and I find it very hard to look away, or pull away, or get away.
“Come home with me,” he says.
I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to.
And let’s be fair, I don’t really want to.
LAKE
Spontaneous bad decisions are so much better than the ones where you really take your time before you do something stupid. When things happen on the spur of the moment, you can blame the moment. You can be all, ‘oh I just got caught up in the moment.’ And then it’s fine. That happens. We’ve all been there. Spontaneous stupidity is what makes us human.
My problem is I don’t think what I’m doing right now counts as spontaneous. I fucking stopped by my apartment to pack an overnight bag, for fucking fuck’s sake! It’d take a real good concussion combined with some excellent drugs to even begin to convince myself I’m somehow being impulsive here.
Which means I’m being willingly stupid. Means at some point I’ve used my brain and decided I’m gonna go for it and be an idiot, consequences be damned. So yeah. Good for me. Willful ignorance for the win.
Then again, I’m already on board the crazy train, so might as well ride this bitch to the bitter end.
Ryker’s lying on the bed with his head perched on the pillow by the time I’m finished in the bathroom. I pad toward him, feet slapping on the wooden floors. Once I’m in front of the bed, I take a long, slow look. He didn’t bother with the covers. Or clothes. I appreciate the efficiency.
I walk to his side of the bed, fingers trailing up his calf and knee and thigh. He sucks in a breath when I bypass his dick and move up his hip. Abs. Chest. I smooth my palm over his jaw and bite my lip at the feel of his stubble against my skin.
His eyes are wide. A bit hesitant, maybe.
My cock is pushing against the fabric of my boxer briefs. He leans forward, hooks his fingers in the waistband and pushes the underwear down.
“Why even waste time with those?” he asks, a bit hoarsely.
“It’s like unwrapping a present.”
“It’s your birthday. Shouldn’t you be the one unwrapping things?”
“I would, but somebody got there before me.”
