I give Jase a sly grin. “Looks like you’re up next,J-Ham.”
He visibly shudders. “You’ll never let me live that down.”
“Never.”
He crosses his eyes at me just as the moderator calls his name, then walks out to thunderous applause, ear-splitting whistles, and screams so loud the ground vibrates beneath my feet. And Jase being Jase, he laps up every drop of the attention. If ever anyone was born to be a movie star, it’s Jason Hamilton.
And then it’s just us. I turn to Ryder, who’s watching me with a sunlit smile. “Guess it’s our turn.” I have to wonder which gods I angered in a past life to have thrust us back together like this. I feel like a pawn on a cosmic chess board.
He’s standing closer now, and from this distance my brain is even more consumed by the sun-kissed skin at his neck.Someone got a head start on his tan.My eyes, no matter how hard I try to tear them away, keep snapping back to his bareflesh like an industrial strength magnet. I remember that skin.Once upon a time, it was mine to touch and taste whenever I wanted.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach out to brush a nonexistent speck of lint from his shirt, then pretend to adjust the mic at his collar, letting my fingertips graze his chest in the process—and because I’ve already brazenly crossed that red line, I slide my palms down the front of his jacket, smoothing the lapels slowly and deliberately, before reluctantly letting my hands drop back to my sides. He tracks my movements wordlessly, unblinking, the only hint of a reaction in the flare of his eyes and the nearly imperceptible intake of breath when my fingers skim his torso.
In the distance, I hear the moderator start to introduce him as Ryder swallows heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You know, if you wanted to touch me, all you had to do was ask.”
He’s goading me into a snappy retort, but I don’t take the bait. “You look good, Ry. I should’ve told you that last night.”
He blinks at me, lips parting, his face a mask of confusion at my behavioral one-eighty. Honestly, I’m confused too.Think I’ll blame my candor on the nostalgia.I dimly register the moderator droning his name in the background.
“They’re calling you,” I tell him, nudging him out toward the stage. “Try not to trip,” I taunt. I can’t help myself.
But instead of walking out, he catches me off guard by reaching for my hand and clasping it firmly in his. I choke back a gasp, staring down at his hand like it’s a coiled snake ready to strike. “What are you doing?”
He answers my question with one of his own. “Tell mesomething.” His eyes smolder like embers, glowing golden in the backstage shadows. “Is there anyone back home who’ll mind me doing this?”
Now I’m the one who’s struck dumb. My mouth opens and closes like a guppy. “What about me?” I manage to stammer. “MaybeImind.”
His lips curve into that smirk I know so well, I could see it in my sleep.And I have.“Come on. Let’s give ’em what they came here for.”
The moderator gives up on Ryder and starts calling my name instead.
He grins at me, his eyes dancing, before squeezing my hand once. “Ready?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer before leading me out on stage—one hand laced possessively through mine, the other raised in a triumphant wave—to deafening roars.
8
Then
Icrossed my armsover my chest and turned to face Ryder…in his daisy dukes. Him being forced to have this conversation while clad in little more than his birthday suit was the only thing helping diffuse my anger.
“Well?” I demanded, breaking the silence he seemed determined to drag out. “You heard Nate. We need to talk this out, because if you think I’m going to quit, you’re wrong.”
He’d been avoiding my eyes but he met them now, looking at me strangely. “I don’t want you to quit.” He glanced down at his body, finally seeming to register his state of undress. “And I don’t really want to have this conversation in the nude.” He glanced around the room, presumably for something to cover himself with, before realizing stacks of paper and a half-drunk mug of coffee weren’t gonna cut it.
“Too bad. You being forced to grovel while wearing booty shorts isexactlymy brand of justice.”
He crossed his arms over his bare chest, but not before his lips twitched briefly.Point, Everhart.
I sighed. “Come on, let’s have it out. Why are you giving me such a hard time? I don’t get it. When we met, I thought you were great. I thoughtthis”—I gestured between us—“was going to be great. What happened? Did I do something to offend you?” I searched his face for answers but found none, his expression inscrutable. “Why do you hate me?”
A groove appeared between his eyes. “I don’t hate you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He gave his head a firm shake. “That’sreallynot it.”
“So what is it, then?” I snapped, exasperated. “I’m doing the best I can! I’m trying my heart out, Ryder. I’ve dealt with your mood swings, I’ve bent over backward to accommodate all your nitpicky suggestions and snarky little comments. I’ve done everything you’ve asked, even when I don’t agree with it. And don’t try to tell me it’s not personal, because I’m the only one you treat this way.”
