Oh, Reece’s mouth formed. And then the corner of his lips turned up. “So the cut is okay? It’s the—” he cleared his throat “—real cute guywho’s the problem?”
“He’s been a problem since we met,” Grayson muttered.
“Mmm, sounds like he’s a real dick,” Reece said innocently.
“You talking about dicks isn’t gonna help anything.”
Reece’s smile grew. He wasn’t hurting Grayson, he was making him feel good, and that had heat blooming under his collar, spreading through him. Grayson’s body was still taut, but now that Reece knew the cause, he could see what was really happening: muscles tensed not with pain but with anticipation; tiny shifts not away from his hands but toward them; skin not blanched but flushed.
That buzz ofwant, his permanent companion around Grayson, was growing, layered in his ears over the truck’s engine.
Before he meant to, Reece skimmed his hand up to Grayson’s shoulder, drawing a quiet but audible inhale. “I might be your problem but you’re mine,” he said softly, knowing the words would ghost over the back of Grayson’s neck. “I can’t get through a thought these days without you finding your way into it.”
Grayson’s head tilted almost imperceptibly, like he was welcoming Reece’s breath across his skin.
“And you leaning into my touch isn’t helping me pull my hands away,” Reece said, his voice a little rougher, as he skated his fingers down Grayson’s bicep. “It just makes me wish I could give you everything your body wants.”
He got to see a small shiver run over Grayson. “Dangerous thing to say around an empath hunter, isn’t it?”
“Is that what you are?” Reece said, with mock surprise, as he trailed his fingers back up Grayson’s arm, nice and slow, muscle ridged under his gloves. “Funny how you can conveniently switch between specialist and hunter now.”
“Funny how your lips keep getting closer to my ear.”
Reece smiled again, this time sly. “Do they?” he said, light but pointed. “Or is it thatyoukeep getting closer to my lips?”
He honestly wasn’t sure who was moving closer to whom, or maybe they were being drawn together like magnets, or gravity.
“Does it matter?” Grayson said, barely a whisper. “We’re gonna get the same result if we touch: you out cold, and me reminded why I need that weapon against you.”
The truck was quiet except for the mingled sound of their breaths, and Reece became aware of the tic in his own jaw, the strain of keeping the scant remaining inches intact between his lips and Grayson’s skin.
Inches that had to stay, because there were a million reasons they couldn’t be crossed.
Reece swallowed and forced himself to take his hands off Grayson and pull back. “I’m going to let you turn around.”
Grayson took another audible breath and then nodded.
Reece made enough room for him to move, sitting on his heels as Grayson turned. Grayson rested against the door, facing Reece and backlit by the fogged window. There was a pink flush to his cheeks, hazel eyes bright and focused on Reece. The sweater seemed forgotten in Grayson’s hand and his chest was bare, flushed like his face, and before Reece could stop them, his eyes had followed the planes of his chest down the line of his abs to his jeans, where Reece could see exactly the impact his words and touch had had on Grayson.
“Oh no,” Reece said weakly. “This is worse.”
Grayson opened his mouth.
“Don’t talk,” Reece ordered, forcing his gaze back up to golden hazel eyes. “If you open your mouth and you sound half as wrecked as I feel, I will lose it.”
“I gotta talk,” Grayson said, andfuck, he did sound wrecked. “I gotta talk some sense into you. The title of Reece’s Worst Decisionhas got some stiff competition, but pretty sure this moment right here would win.”
Reece tried to shake off the shivers Grayson’s deep voice had left on his skin. “You’re not a bad decision,” he said, his own voice deeper too. “And I’m not flinching when I say that, because I’mnotlying.”
“You believing it doesn’t make it true. Doesn’t make me good for you.” Grayson sounded unsteady. His breaths seemed to be coming faster than normal. “I’m way too dangerous, Reece.”
“But I’m dangerous too.” Reece barely recognized the sound of his own voice. “Could get more dangerous at any moment. At least you look like what you are. People think empaths are sheep, but you know you and I are both wolves.”
As he spoke, Reece’s gaze again swept over the addictive view of Grayson spread out and shirtless. Grayson’s hand twitched, the one holding the sweater, a tiny movement but like he’d suddenly remembered something. Reece’s gaze darted in the direction the movement would have gone—and he abruptly realized why Grayson had originally had his sweater pressed against his left shoulder, what he’d been hiding before.
“Oh my God.”
Reece was reaching out before he could stop himself. Grayson quickly and gracefully shifted, stretching one long leg out along the floor and the other against the backrest so Reece fit on the narrow bit of seat between them, safely boxed into the space made by Grayson’s legs as he leaned forward.
