Page 70 of Worth Loving You

Maybe he had been drunk that night. I didn’t smell any booze on his breath when he was licking me, but that didn’t mean anything. He could have eaten something or had a breath mint.

Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew I was bullshitting myself, but I was not ready to confront him or confess to Milo. For now, all I wanted to think about was Wanderlust Masseuse.

We stepped off the elevator and made our way to the back of the building. He held the door open for me, the rain pelting the ground like pebbles. Tugging the collar of my jacket up, we darted across the alleyway to the garage, my teeth rattling with the shiver that shook my core.

“You all right?”

“Cold. Just want to get in the car and turn the heat on.”

“Fuck.”

“What?”

He stumbled to a halt a couple feet from the SUV, his hands on his sides. “I don’t fucking believe this.”

“What?”

“Flat tire.”

“What?” I stepped closer and groaned, the back driver’s tire completely deflated. Hugging my arms around myself, I whined, “Well, just put the spare on and—”

“That is the spare.”

“Oh my god, Wyatt. Now what?”

“Well, we can call someone, or we can hit the subway.”

“Shit. Let’s go. By the time someone gets here, we can be home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

He pushed a breath through pursed lips and shrugged. “All right.”

The two of us exited the parking garage and darted down the sidewalk to the next block for the subway entrance. Bounding down the steps, I shook my arms out when we were out of the rain, squeezing the water from my hair. Quietly making our way to the proper train, we reached it just in time to hop on before it left.

“Damn, crowded,” he grumbled.

I wove through the people, reaching for a pole since all the seats were taken. Almost immediately, I noticed a creepy guy checking me out, grinning wickedly with beady eyes.

Coughing, I fidgeted with the collar of my jacket, trying to ignore him.

Wyatt must have seen him, too, for he was pressing himself right against me, holding the bar over my head, staring the man down. “Got a problem, buddy?”

He cleared his throat and bowed his chin, the smile gone.

For once, I was grateful for his presence.

The train rocked and I stumbled, instinctively grabbing at him to steady myself. He put his hand on my hip to catch me.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

Widening my feet a little, I straightened myself, but he didn’t move away. Warning bells went off in my ears, my pulse quickening. When I felt his bulge on my ass, I choked on an inhale, my muscles locking around my bones. Breathless, I bit by bit craned my neck to peek at him.

He was staring down his nose with an emotionless mask.