Spencer nodded, his brow furrowing. “He smells distressed. Is he okay?”
Trust Spencer to run off devastated and still worry over whetherAshwas all right. His heart was too soft, and it clearly needed better protection than it had been getting. But theycould fix that. With Ash’s fierce bite and Ryder’s calm strength, nothing was going to get through to hurt it again.
“He’s fine,” Ryder soothed gruffly. “Just worried about you.”
Spencer’s frown only deepened. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Ryder threaded his fingers through Spencer’s damp hair and tugged gently, meeting his deep-blue eyes. “Just tell us where you are next time.”
Spencer licked his lips, something uncertain in his gaze. “Because we’re … friends?”
Ryder tugged harder. “Try again.”
“Fuck buddies?”
“Spencer …”
Spencer grinned, and there was that hope in his eyes again, plus a fair bit of flirty mischief that had Ryder wanting to gnaw at him.
Instead, Ryder grabbed his hand. There were too many noises here, too many people coming in and out. Ryder pulled Spencer out the garage door and over to the side of the building, where there was a concrete square with folding chairs that the guys used to take their breaks when they were sick of being stuck indoors.
Ryder ignored the chairs and pushed Spencer gently against the wall, leaving his hand splayed on Spencer’s chest. “Ash has things he wants to say to you, but I want to say my piece too.”
Spencer swallowed hard without breaking eye contact. “Okay.”
“We want you. We want tobewith you.” Ryder cleared his throat, then made himself say the last part. “We were trying to … woo you.”
Spencer’s brows rose to his hairline. “You were wooing me?”
“Maybe we weren’t doing a very good job of it,” Ryder conceded. “The heats kind of fucked with things.”
“I mean”—Spencer’s cheeks flushed pink—“I remember there were some very good bits.”
Ryder added pressure to his hold. It felt unbelievably satisfying, after not hearing from Spencer where or how he was for more than twenty-four hours, to pin him in place like this. “It’s not just sex. And it’s not casual. It’s for keeps.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. “Um, that’s kind of a dangerous thing to say to me, you know. I tend to latch on.”
Ryder had sometimes wondered if that was the real reason Spencer didn’t date. If it had less to do with him wanting to sample the student population and more to do with his inability to actually maintain anything casual when his feelings got the least bit involved.
If so, that was everyone else’s loss, his and Ash’s gain.
Ryder’s hand was splayed high enough that he could stroke his thumb over the bare skin peeking out above Spencer’s neckline. “Good. You want to know why I’m here? At school?”
“Because you love boring books?”
“A little. But I’m probably gonna stay a mechanic, barring something else sparking my interest. I want to move over to diesel, work on big trucks, make a decent living. But I got a full scholarship because my dad’s a vet, and I signed up to go wherever Ash went. I’m here because he’s here. And now because you’re here.” Ryder leaned in close, pressing his forehead to Spencer’s, breathing in his spiced-tea scent. “So latch on all you want. You’re not the only one who clings.”
A short huff of breath, and then Spencer pressed their mouths together in a sudden kiss. It was sweet and a little hungry, all soft lips and a searching tongue that tasted like minty toothpaste. Ryder cupped Spencer’s face and tilted him the way he wanted, deepening the kiss. He ran his thumbs under Spencer’s ears, scent marking him while he took what Spencer gave him.
By the time they broke off, Spencer was rocking his hips against Ryder’s, his soft lips now swollen and his pretty eyes dazed. “You ever fuck someone against this wall?”
Ryder shook his head and pointed up. “Security camera.” Not to mention the garage full of coworkers just around the corner.
“Oh.” Spencer pouted in the camera’s direction. “Bummer.”
Ryder pressed a quick kiss to those pouty lips. “Yeah, bummer. And there’s still a conversation for you to have, if you’re up for it.”
Spencer twisted his hands into the fabric of Ryder’s T-shirt, his knuckles grazing against Ryder’s stomach in a way that made him shudder. “He doesn’t hate me for texting Noah?”
