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Chapter Thirteen
Rayne
Mike was in the kitchen talking quietly with Bishop and Edison, so Rayne didn’t think it was a good idea to interrupt. Chelsea got up and took a call in the back room and then had to hurry and leave because of some big emergency at work. She asked Rayne to apologize to Edison for her rudeness and also to ask him for a rain check on her dessert. So that meant he had to sit alone in the living room with the lovebirds as they exchanged hot jeers and cute shoves while they battled each other on the video game.
Instead of watching, Rayne figured he’d get a start on his new book, but he was having a hard time getting into it. Not when he kept feeling sporadic vibrations in his chest from the bass in Mike’s voice that carried to him from around the corner. Rayne couldn’t make out the words, but he gathered Mike was discussing something intense by the way his voice would tighten as it rose a few octaves.
Rayne hadn’t read a single word as he stared blankly at the page, his mind replaying the look Mike gave him before he went around Bishop and into the kitchen. Damn, he was sexy and hot in a dangerous sort of way. The complete opposite of the clean-cut, eager-to-please business moguls Rayne was used to. Though Mike wore a perpetual frown and cursed like a truck driver with road rage, Rayne liked the way he made him feel when he was close to him.
Normal. And in a bit of trouble.
Rayne almost moaned when his cock filled in his tight jeans, pressing excitedly against the restriction. Oh god. He closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath, trying to settle himself. Though he hadn’t had many instances during his recovery where he had to struggle this hard with lust—because no one had hit that button inside of him—he still knew what he was supposed to do when he was feeling triggered. Like any addict, Rayne had tools to use and a place to go for support. He checked his watch, then tried to calculate how long it would take him to get to St. Mary’s eight o’clock meeting on the bus. If he skipped dessert too, he could make it.
Rayne climbed off the comfortable chaise lounge and gathered his books in his arm and his lightweight Burberry jacket from out of the hall closet. Wood was the first to notice him readying to leave as he sat forward in his seat.
“Hey. You ready to go so soon?”
“Yeah. I have to get up early and check out those jobs you found online for me in the morning.” Rayne widened his smile, although the last thing he felt was joy. Actually, he was feeling anxious and needed to get the hell out of there.
He liked what he and Mike were doing—the flirting was exciting and different—but he knew it was a long shot to have him as his. What if Mike didn’t like the conditions of being in a relationship with him? Shit, what if he doesn’t do commitment at all? That’s what his partner would have to agree to before things could get as heated as Mike seemed to want them.
“Okay, I’ll take you home.” Wood appeared hesitant, and Rayne noticed Trent’s displeasure at having to leave despite how fast he schooled his expression.
“No, no. You two stay. Trent just said Edison’s chocolate cake is his favorite, right? I’m sure he doesn’t want to miss that.” Rayne nodded, encouraging Trent to agree, which he did.
“Sounds good. All right, we’ll see you at home, Rayne.”
“We can take it to go,” Wood disagreed with Trent.
“We all don’t have to be rude and eat and run. I’m good, I promise.”
“But you’ll be home by yourself.”
Trent tossed his game controller on the couch beside him. “Hersch, stop babying him, for fuck’s sake. Rayne’s almost thirty. What the hell?”
Uh-oh. Rayne knew that look in Trent’s eyes and the meaning behind the glare he was giving his boyfriend. Shit. This was always how it started, with the significant other getting annoyed and then eventually jealous. Rayne was going to have to leave soon despite how much he liked having a safe place to live. Anytime a friend took him in, no matter how hard he tried to show their partner that he was not a threat, somehow he still came in between relationships. He wouldn’t let that happen to Wood and Trent. He respected them too much and wanted to keep them as friends.
“I’m just making sure he gets home safely,” Wood bit back. “He’s my friend, Trent. Why are you—”
“I’ll take him home,” Mike told them, cutting off the feud.
Rayne was glad he didn’t flinch at Mike’s deep voice that came from just behind him, but he’d been thinking so hard on a way to defuse the bomb he’d somehow armed that he hadn’t heard him come into the living room.
Wood narrowed his eyes at Mike, already shaking his head. Trent scoffed and got up off the couch and stormed into the back room.
How the hell does this always happen to me? Rayne was seriously trying to figure out what he’d just done wrong. Everyone around him was pissed at each other, and he felt as if he was right in the center, defenseless to do anything about it.
Wood got to his feet, and Rayne thought he was going to chase after his boyfriend, but instead, Wood stood between him and Mike and asked, “Rayne, can I talk to you outside for a minute… alone.”
“Jesus Christ, Wood,” Rayne hissed, leaning in so no one heard him. “Go after your boyfriend before you end up sleeping on the couch.” And me on the streets. Rayne could sense the ultimatum coming from Trent any day now. Me or him.
“Yeah. Go after my boy, Wood. He looked upset.”
Wood ignored Mike and gently took Rayne’s elbow, pointing toward the patio door. “Just a minute, then you can go, okay? Please.”
Rayne sighed. The damage was done, and he didn’t want Wood to stand there and keep begging. Whatever he had to say, it couldn’t be good, so he might as well let him get it out and get it over with. Wood marched toward the rear of Edison’s home like he expected Rayne to follow.
Mike shook his head, a provocative half grin playing on his lips as if Wood’s behavior both infuriated and amused him. Rayne stopped at Mike’s shoulder and waited for him to turn his head and lower those ebony eyes to his. The moment he did, desire knocked hard between Rayne’s legs at Mike’s dark red aura, at his display of power and assurance.
