“You want my respect, Connor. Earn it.”
Done. I’m fucking done.
I walk over and snatch the book out of his hands. His eyes go wide as I tower over him, glaring. But I won’t touch him. That boundary, I will respect. “Tell me what the fuck is wrong.”
Red spreads across his face, his bottom lip quivering. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Fucking tell me!”
He looks at his hands, picking at his thumbnail.
“Goddammit, Ryan. Just tell me.”
He huffs, then bites his lip, still avoiding my gaze. “I know about Rua. About Miami.”
I blink once. Twice.The fuck?That’s not where I thoughtthis was going.
He sits up, legs crossing tight, feet shoved under his thighs. He picks at a loose thread on the blanket and shrugs. “Thought I was . . . that what happened was the first time . . . for both of us. At least with a guy for you.”
“It was just a blowjob. Didn’t mean shit.”
“Can I have my book back?”
I sit on the edge of his bed, holding it out but not letting go. “Ryan, I never said I hadn’t done anything with another guy.”
He pulls the book, and this time, I let him have it. Don’t understand why my past set him off. Can’t change that it happened, either.
But I fucking hate when he’s like this.
“What’s the book about?”
He scoots back, leans against the wall, and then flips through the pages. “This guy gets sucked into this fantasy world. He has to kill rats in tavern basements for experience points. Every ten rats he kills, he levels up and gets stronger. Eventually he works his way up to fighting goblins, then wolves, then dragons. If he dies in the book world, he dies in real life.”
I stare at him. “What the fuck kind of book is that?”
He rolls his eyes as he turns to the next page.
I shake my head, grinning, and push off his bed. I walk to mine, grab my laptop, then come back. “Move over.”
He looks up and stares.
“Move. Over.”
He scoots toward the wall, dragging his bear with him. I drop down, open the laptop, and boot up EVE Online.
Ryan glances at the screen. “You still play that?”
“Better than hunting rats in some fake book world.”
He snorts, shaking his head, but doesn’t argue. Just leans against the wall, legs stretched out, bear pressed to his side.
We don’t talk after that. Just sit there. The room is quiet except for the laptop’s hum and the sound of him breathing next to me.
Feels different, like a silent sense of understanding and camaraderie. It’s . . . something I could get used to.
That’s all I’m giving it.
Chapter 17
