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This? Even without a shirt on, this was like wearing a wet blanket on his skin the whole damn night.

He pushed his hair back and raised his arms. He stopped mid-stretch and his chest seized. New York City trumped LA when there was a woman like Denver on the roof. Her ponytail had been transformed into one of those knot things that his female bandmates did to their hair. She’d stripped down to one of the strappy little tanks she always wore under her plaid shirts. This one was a blinding white that glowed off her golden skin. There were no other lines to mar the perfection of her shoulders and back.

Just smooth skin with a light sheen of sweat in the play of lights from the city.

The whole of New York City was on display from their vantage point. Old brownstones and row houses with hotels and shops came into view the closer he got to her. But the skyscrapers of Manhattan speared into the inky sky took the view from a wow factor of five to a full ten.

Add in Denver’s striking face with a bit of moonlight dancing along the crest of her cheek and he had to force himself to take a deeper breath.

It was stupid to even look at her like a woman. She was his friend—his closest friend these days. Oh, Michael and West would forever be his triangle of best friends. History and loyalty would always see to that, but they were moving on with their lives.

Love and babies had trumped the day-to-day fun they used to have together. They still had the stage and an innate connection he’d never found with anyone else on the planet, but his buddies had fuller lives now. He’d been left in the shadows, until Denver had come into the picture.

She was laughter and fun. She kept him sane on the nights that he couldn’t wind down after a show. She kicked his ass when he didn’t know what to do with himself on off days.

And now she was here in the heavy stillness of a July night, bailing him out of trouble. There’d been censure in her voice and the same boot-to-ass personality coming at him full steam, but she was the only one who’d looked for him.

Hours later there had been messages on his phone waiting for him, but it was Denver who’d worried after him. Denver who had saved him.

Pride smarted under the appreciation. She’d been the one to find him in that alley at his lowest point. Now he had to add in the inconvenient sexual tension that had sprung up where it didn’t belong.

The echo of her Boy Scout comment didn’t help keep his head on straight either. He may not be banging randos on the bus like Mal, but he wasn’t a saint. And he sure as shit wasn’t a boring fuck. When he noticed the tightness in his fingers, he relaxed his fists.

He could usually shake off her insults. They were often the cornerstone of their conversations, especially when it came to tough trails that she picked out on the days they got away to ride. Trash talking was one of her attributes.

Right now, she didn’t seem like his hardass best friend. Not with the stray dark hairs sticking to her neck and minus the layers of clothing that made it easier for him to forget she was a woman—an attractive one at that.

She’d rested her hands on the half wall at the edge of the roof. It cut her off at the ribs, making her look even smaller than usual.

He walked up behind her and she jumped as he trailed his knuckle down her neck, leaving a trail through the baby-fine hairs. “Were you hoping for some relief?”

“What?” Her fingertips whitened on the brick as her stance went from relaxed to vibrating.

“From the heat.”

“Oh.” She bobbed her head. “Yes. The room was stifling.”

He placed his hands on either side of hers on the brick. “Helluva view.”

“What?”

Heat radiated from her and the warm scent of honey and vanilla filled his lungs. The tips of his fingers went numb and he had to relax his grip again. He wanted to crowd into her, to see if her skin was as warm as it seemed.

“The view,” he said roughly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a finer view.”

She peered up at him. “You’re not looking at the view.”

“Nope.”

“Ryan…”

“Do you want me to back up?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. He could see it there as her long, elegant neck spasmed.

Was her throat as dry as his? If he pressed his chest to her back, would her heart be racing the same way?

Her head fell forward on her chest, leaving her neck and shoulders completely exposed. Was she looking for a way to let him down easy?

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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