He’s on his bed, staring.
“Should’ve given me a towel.” I grab a clean one from the basket and dry myself off.
He stands, grabbing his stuff, and makes his way to the door. Once the doorstop is wedged, he goes into the bathroom.
I throw on a pair of boxer briefs, grab my laptop from the desk, then sit on my bed, leaning against the wall. But I don’t want to work on anything. Don’t even want to play games. Though, I should text Zach and Viktor.
Ah, fuck. My phone’s in the locker room.
My eyelids grow heavy and I let them close and sink into the mattress.
A door clicks and my eyes open. Ryan walks across the room in navy blue joggers and one of his Joan Jett T-shirts.
Shit, how long was I out for?
The laptop screen is off. So, I close it, then put it on the floor.
Ryan drops his base layers into his laundry basket, then goes back to the bathroom. He returns with my gear, placing it in the corner.
“I could’ve done that.” It comes out raspy and hoarse.
Great. Another side effect of being choked.
“Not a big deal.” He walks to my bed. “Need anything?”
“Jesus, fuck. I’m not sick. Didn’t have surgery. So knock it off.”
“Connor, your face was purple. He could’ve . . .” His bottom lip quivers. “It could’ve been worse.”
Yeah. Maybe.
But it wasn’t. Because of him.
He sits on my bed, then reaches out, his thumb brushing my neck. “Does it hurt?”
“What the fuck do you think?” I bat his hand away. “Stop hovering. I’ll be fine.”
Ryan leans closer, hesitating, then his lips brush against my neck.
“Are you fucking serious?” I shove him back. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to kiss it better like I’m some fucking kid.”
“Why are you such a fucking asshole?”
My nostrils flare, chest heaving, each breath a fight to get air down my throat to my lungs. Still, I don’t need the tenderness. Never had it. Not starting now.
But what I do need is . . . I lunge forward, smashing my mouth to his. I just want to get lost in his kiss, let it erase the night, for a few minutes.
He sucks in a sharp breath, both hands against my chest. He pushes me away, wide-eyed and a little pale.
Fuck.
Shouldn’t have done that. Not to him. When will I fucking learn?
Both hands rake through my hair, then tug at the strands. “I’m an asshole.”
I start to get up, to get away from him, but Ryan grabs my wrist and presses his mouth to mine.
His lips are soft, desperate. His tongue pushes into my mouth and I suck it. Deep and wet, like I’d suck his dick.
