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Chapter Eleven

Rayne

Chelsea stood close to Rayne as Edison walked them around one of his guest bedrooms that he’d converted into a library slash workout room. He was so animated and proud of his cozy home that his mood was infectious. But it wasn’t Edison’s pleasantness and hospitality that had Rayne feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. It was Mike he could sense in the room, even though his attention wasn’t on him.

Edison went toward a bookshelf near the far end of the wall and fingered over the spines until he found what he was looking for. He had to stretch his arms high over his head to reach the books on the top shelf, causing his University of Virginia T-shirt to ride up on his round belly. The skin looked smooth and supple to the touch, covered with fine blond hairs. Goddamnit. Rayne shifted his gaze away, feeling ridiculous for the chub pushing against the front of his tight jeans. He was positive that it wasn’t Edison bringing on such wanton feelings—it was the man lurking a few feet away who was stoking a flame to life that Rayne had successfully kept smothered for months.

“Here you go, Rayne. This is all I have on meditation.” Edison handed him two books that were thick enough to occupy his mind for a few days. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything on yoga. I’ve tried it a couple times at my gym around the corner, but I don’t think I’m built for it.”

“Yoga isn’t for skinny people,” Chelsea butted in with her hands on her ample hips. “Because my downward dog looks damn good, thank you. So God blessed whoever’s mat is behind mine.”

Edison’s laugh was full and loud. “I know it’s for everyone. I should’ve said that it’s just not for me. I’m more into cardio and fast-paced stuff. I like upbeat music when I exercise. All those nature sounds and serene humming makes me sleepy.”

“Cardio is for the body. Yoga is an exercise for the mind, Edison.” Rayne took the mindfulness book and was already flipping through it. “We need both.”

“Now you sound like my assistant, Mila. She’s addicted to yoga and Barre.” Edison snapped his fingers as if he’d just had a great idea. “You should go on YouTube. There’s an abundance of information and videos—”

Chelsea made a sound like a game show buzzer indicating a wrong answer as she browsed a historical title. “A sex addict exploring videos on the internet is just as bad as an alcoholic popping into a bar at happy hour. Neither needs to be there.”

“Oh. I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” Edison stammered, grasping for words.

“It’s okay, Edison. Don’t mind her,” Rayne hurried to save him.

Poor Edison. He looked as if he’d just been shoved into the women’s bathroom. Rayne gave Chelsea a side-eye. He was beginning to think his new friend liked to see people’s reaction to the words “sex addict.”

“You don’t have to find the right words to say or do anything differently.” Rayne gave Edison a soft smile. “As you can see, we’re a bit desensitized to it now. One of us more than the other.”

Chelsea winked at Edison, a coy grin tilting her lips, causing him to relax a little more.

Rayne imagined it was hard for a person living in this century to imagine their day-to-day life without the World Wide Web, but it was far more liberating than one would think. Besides, he wasn’t concerned with what was online. He had realness only a few feet away from him. Rayne wondered what Mike thought about his addiction. It may not matter to Chelsea what other people thought of her, but Rayne wasn’t in that place yet. He wanted the respect of friends and loved ones. A partner. That meant he had to stop being a liar and be himself, be someone trustworthy and honorable. Open himself up to true, genuine feelings.

Edison nodded as if he appreciated Rayne’s save. “I’ll ask Mila if she has any books on yoga too.”

“Thanks.” Rayne was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. All the charity was beginning to get to him, especially from someone he’d just met.

“Edison, can I please borrow this one? I love this author. I didn’t even know she was writing again after her sabbatical.” Chelsea clutched a paperback against her chest.

“Of course.” Edison’s hazel eyes radiated with excitement, as if he didn’t have much company that shared his love of reading. He pointed to another bookcase. “So, Rayne. You said you don’t watch much television, and you’re obviously not addicted to social media. What other genres do you like to read? I have a wide variety here. Tons of roman—uh, I mean lots of sci-fi, thriller, action… even some paranormal.”

Rayne glanced over the vast selection. As he did, he daydreamed of having something like this for himself one day. A beautiful home with a loving partner. A room full of floor-to-ceiling shelves with books of all genres for his pleasure. But instead of the treadmill, elliptical, and free weights, Rayne would have live plants, fluffy throw pillows, and yoga mats. With hard work, dedication, and discipline, his sponsor assured him that Rayne could have all of that and more.

Without thought, his gaze veered toward Mike.

He stood in front of the one window facing Edison’s front yard that was just as elaborately designed as the back. Even from behind, Mike was a striking figure. His sheer height and build were intimidating even to a six-foot man. In the room, he could smell Mike’s masculine soap that blended well with the leather scent from his motorcycle jacket.

Edison pulled a hardback from the middle shelf. “Mike. Isn’t this the book I recommended to you last month? It’s the latest release from Walter Wilson. Rayne, you can try it and see if you like it. I think this author is by far one of the best science fiction writers of our time.”

Mike jerked his head up in surprise, frowning at the book Edison was holding as if he’d never seen it before, but when his dark eyes met Rayne’s, he appeared to all of a sudden remember. “Oh yeah. I agree. He’s one of the best of this generation.”

“I tell you what, if Mike can name even one other science fiction author of any generation, I will dry-hump that weight bench right there,” Wood challenged with an indignant scoff.

Chelsea was unable to control her laugh, which must have been contagious because it was only a second before Edison was stifling his chuckle behind his fist. Rayne leveled Wood with a blank stare. What in the hell is his problem with Mike? It must be some kind of in-law rivalry. Either way, Rayne hated feeling in the middle of their shit.

Mike released a harsh bark of laughter that was anything but amusing. His jaw was clenched when he muttered, “Wood. You are so damn funny, I could just punch you in the fuckin’ teeth.”

Rayne was the first to break the tension. “I’ll borrow the mindfulness books, Edison, and the new one by Wilson. Thank you so much.”

“Anytime.” Edison moved like he was about to pat Rayne on his shoulder but withdrew his hand before he could make contact.

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