The habit began the day I tagged along to sign Ryder’s apartment lease. After he’d taken us both in hand and tugged us to an explosive finish, I’d realized two things. One, getting off with another man on the regular was a million times better than biting my lip as I hid under my covers to quietly take care of business alone, and two, I didn’t hate Ryder like I used to.
In fact, I might even like him.
Once I’d cleaned our combined cum off my sated dick that day, I’d exited the bathroom to find him waiting in the hallway, jeans up but unbuttoned and shoulder propped against the wall. His eyes had been heavy with satisfied fatigue, and his half-smile had given me the absurd urge to press my lips to his. Only the fact that I’d come my brains out three minutes before kept me from reaching for him again.
“Truce?” He’d said as I’d walked up to him.
“What?”
He shrugged, then motioned back and forth between us. “This is fun. You’re hot, and we’re good together like this. We’renot friends, but if we call a truce, we can quit hating each other’s guts and enjoy fucking around.”
I’d cocked my head and scanned his face for sincerity. “A truce, huh?” The offer was perfect. We could avoid any in-depth discussion about our past contentious relationship and keep hooking up. More importantly, I wouldn’t have to admit the deep-seated hatred I’d harbored for him had evaporated. We could go on and skip any of the emotional bullshit I didn’t have time for or interest in.
And I’d get orgasms.
He shrugged. “Why not?”
There were reasons. Many reasons, but none of them came to me right then. Probably because he’d drained half my brain power through my balls. “Works for me.” I’d said with an answering shrug, all nonchalant as though my insides weren’t throwing a party.
Since that day, we’d gotten each other off as often as possible anywhere we could. Granted, we usually only found time once or twice a week, but it beat how often I was getting it before by a mile. After work, before our shifts, in the back seat of his snazzy car, and one other time at his apartment. Whenever we could sneak away and not be missed or discovered, we took advantage.
But never in a bed and never more than quick blow jobs or rushed hand jobs. This wasn’t athing. We still weren’t friends. We didn’t talk or hang out beyond screwing around, but we’d stuck to the truce and enjoyed frequent orgasms.
Dominic had announced the last call about twenty minutes ago, which meant we’d be shooing customers out the door soon. Hopefully, tonight would be one of the nights Ryder and I ended up in the back of his car for a fun time. It’d be easy and far more comfortable to head over to Ryder’s apartment once the bar closed, but that felt too boyfriendy. Meeting up at his apartment so late at night made it too easy for one or both of us to fall asleepafterward. The thought of accidentally waking up to the morning light in Ryder’s giant bed was enough to keep me from accepting the occasional offer to drive there instead of jumping each other in the SUV.
Sneaking out of someone’s bed while they slept sucked, but confronting Ryder after a night in his bed would be worse. He’d be all mussed and sleepy, probably naked or at least bare-chested.
He might have morning wood.
Shit.
I’d have to pretend to be unaffected, which was the real problem. The more time I spent with Ryder, the more I liked the guy.
And that was plain stupid.
“Hey, Ally…” Trevor jogged toward me, shouting over the music. His bowtie was askew, and a sheen of sweat made his gold glitter shimmer brightly beneath the lights.
I stopped collecting glasses onto my tray. The guys at my two tables were all from one bachelor party and had closed out a few minutes ago, not wanting to be caught in the rush of everyone leaving the moment the lights brightened. “What’s up? Need help at your table?”
He shook his head, holding a phone out to me. “Your phone won’t stop ringing. I’m sorry I went into your locker, but I remembered your combo from when you told me a while back. It was quicker than getting you first.”
My stomach plummeted like a roller-coaster drop. Anytime my phone rang at work, I feared my mom was having a medical emergency. Parker had a strict no-cell-phone policy for his employees but understood my situation and wouldn’t have a problem with me checking on my mom. “No. Thank you, Trev. You did the right thing.” I grabbed the phone from his open palm.
Six missed calls from Kenny.
“Fuck.” I hit his contact and held the phone to my ear.
“I’ll be closing out my tables. If you need me, come get me.” He squeezed my arm before darting back to his area.
I couldn’t hear the ringing over the loud music, so I hustled to the locker room. “Hello?” an unfamiliar voice answered as soon as I entered the staff room. “Kenny? Who is this? Where’s Kenny?”
“This his brother?” The gruff voice was hard to make out over shouting and music in the background on his end.
“Yes,” I shouted into the phone as though I’d hear him better at a higher volume. “This is Alex. Is Kenny okay?”
“Yo, man, you gotta come pick up your bro. He’s fucked up, and he pissed some people off. Messed with the wrong guy. I don’t want him here no more, but he’s too fucked up to leave on his own.”
Fucking Kenny. My heart slammed against my ribcage. I clutched the phone so hard I risked shattering the screen. “Is he hurt? Does he need an ambulance?”
