He held my gaze, easing closer as my fingers tightened around the gun in my pocket. “Why don’t I come inside and wait with you.”
I sputtered a laugh. That seemed to surprise him. Had he really expected me to agree? He stood there, eyes locked on mine, as if he could . . . I don’t know, hypnotize me? When I just smiled and shook my head, he looked honestly baffled.
“I think you should let me come inside with you,” he said.
“I think you should haul ass back to the elevator before I call the police.”
He blinked, finally breaking eye contact. One last look at me with that perplexed frown. Then he walked past, so close his jacket brushed me. I stood my ground.
“Shall I tell him who called?” I said.
He kept going. I waited until the elevator dinged, then I hurried to the stairwell. I zoomed down the flights and made it to the first floor just as he was walking through the front door.
I could see him outside, but the reflection of the lights against the glass made him seem to disappear as he walked. Not vanish or fade, but blend into his surroundings.
He passed a parked light gray car, and his jeans and jacket seemed to lighten to match, leaving a gray blur. Obviously a trick of the darkness and the reflection of light. As soon as he was far enough away, I opened the door to see better, but once I did, I lost track of him completely.
He must have darted between parked cars. I went out and looked around. No sign of him.
I spent another few minutes looking. I wanted to see where he would go, what he drove, maybe get a license number. But I’d waited too long before stepping outside, and now he was gone. After one last look, I retreated inside.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Ricky’s apartment was what I’d expect for student housing—a place the size of mine, with a bedroom, bath, and all-purpose living and dining area. About as tidy as mine, too, which meant not spotless but not noticeably messy. Casual and lived in. I got comfortable on the bed while I did some work for Gabriel.
When the door opened a few minutes later, boot steps told me it was Ricky. He rounded the corner into the bedroom. I started to close the laptop.
“Don’t let me disturb you,” he said. “I’m just enjoying the view.”
He stood at the foot of the bed, a little bleary-eyed after a long day but waking up now, brown eyes glittering as they traveled over me, facedown on his bed, dressed only in my panties. As he admired me, I twisted to look over my shoulder and did the same back. He’d shucked his jacket at the door and wore a dark T-shirt, tight across his biceps, the edge of one tattoo peeking from under a sleeve. His blond hair was mussed from the helmet, raked back with his fingers, falling forward now as he watched me. His jeans were faded, fraying at the seams, sculpted to his thighs and everything else. I rose and his gaze never left me, sliding down then back up to my face, lingering at points in between. Then he lifted his hand, stopping me.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he said, gesturing at the laptop.
“Yes,” I said. “But not with this.” I closed the computer and shot a pointed look at his bulging crotch.
A rough chuckle. “As tempting as that is, I’m going to have to insist you go back to work. You tested my distractibility. Now I get to test yours.”
“Oh?”
“Um-hmm.”
He walked over, opened the laptop, set it up, and waited for me to flip onto my stomach. Once I did, he retreated. A moment later, the bedsprings creaked. Hands slid over my calves, up to my thighs, squeezing gently before tugging down my panties. The hands again, pushing me up a little, parting my knees, and then . . . a warm mouth, hot tongue, and . . .
“Oh,” I said.
“Um-hmm.”
I sighed, quietly closed the laptop, and let myself be fully distracted.
—
An hour later, we were stretched out on the bed, naked, talking, drinking beer, and eating leftover nachos he’d brought home. He did most of the eating. I was still stuffed from dinner. He asked where we’d gone. When I told him, he whistled.
“Very nice. Gabriel footed the bill, I hope.”
“He did, though he can expense it. Also, he’s picking me up at my apartment at ten tomorrow, so I can’t sleep in as late as I’d hoped. I suspect he’ll want me to do some work after that.”
“I’ll be home studying. Got a midterm next week. Seems tomorrow’s going to be a write-off for us, then. I’m expected to hang at the clubhouse a few nights a week, and I’ve been remiss. If I don’t, my dad will know something’s up.” He took a last slug of beer and crushed the can. “Once we’ve gone public—with my dad and Gabriel—I’m going to need to ask you to join me now and then, if you can. Not your scene, I know . . .”
“That’s fine.”
“I’ll make it easy. But if the guys know I’m seeing you, they’ll wonder why you’re not there with me. Whether you think you’re too good for them or I’m embarrassed by them.” He made a face as he popped open another beer. “Politics. Motorcycle gang or country club, there’s always politics.”
“Do you usually date girls from there?” I said. “I know one seemed a little territorial.”
He sputtered a mouthful of beer. “Lily? She’s eighteen.”
“You’re twenty-two. It’s not cradle-robbing.”
“With Lily, it would be. She’s a very young eighteen. I don’t date girls who hang out at the clubhouse. Ever. Did you actually see them?”
“I’m not judging.”
He laughed. “Judge away. That is not my dating pool. I mostly go out with girls from school. Not a lot of that, though. I’m too busy, and it’s too complicated. Either way, no one expects me to bring casual dates to the clubhouse.”
“If you need me, I’m there.”
“Okay. I, um, wouldn’t make plans for next Saturday then. If you want me to keep my mouth shut a little longer, I will, but I’d rather come clean with my dad.”
“Just warn me, and I’ll talk to Gabriel. We can both get the this-is-a-bad-idea speech at once.”
“I know.” He took a long drink of his beer, then said, “But it’s not going to change anything, right?”
“Not for me.”
“Good.” He put the beer aside and pulled me over.
I sputtered a laugh. That seemed to surprise him. Had he really expected me to agree? He stood there, eyes locked on mine, as if he could . . . I don’t know, hypnotize me? When I just smiled and shook my head, he looked honestly baffled.
“I think you should let me come inside with you,” he said.
“I think you should haul ass back to the elevator before I call the police.”
He blinked, finally breaking eye contact. One last look at me with that perplexed frown. Then he walked past, so close his jacket brushed me. I stood my ground.
“Shall I tell him who called?” I said.
He kept going. I waited until the elevator dinged, then I hurried to the stairwell. I zoomed down the flights and made it to the first floor just as he was walking through the front door.
I could see him outside, but the reflection of the lights against the glass made him seem to disappear as he walked. Not vanish or fade, but blend into his surroundings.
He passed a parked light gray car, and his jeans and jacket seemed to lighten to match, leaving a gray blur. Obviously a trick of the darkness and the reflection of light. As soon as he was far enough away, I opened the door to see better, but once I did, I lost track of him completely.
He must have darted between parked cars. I went out and looked around. No sign of him.
I spent another few minutes looking. I wanted to see where he would go, what he drove, maybe get a license number. But I’d waited too long before stepping outside, and now he was gone. After one last look, I retreated inside.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Ricky’s apartment was what I’d expect for student housing—a place the size of mine, with a bedroom, bath, and all-purpose living and dining area. About as tidy as mine, too, which meant not spotless but not noticeably messy. Casual and lived in. I got comfortable on the bed while I did some work for Gabriel.
When the door opened a few minutes later, boot steps told me it was Ricky. He rounded the corner into the bedroom. I started to close the laptop.
“Don’t let me disturb you,” he said. “I’m just enjoying the view.”
He stood at the foot of the bed, a little bleary-eyed after a long day but waking up now, brown eyes glittering as they traveled over me, facedown on his bed, dressed only in my panties. As he admired me, I twisted to look over my shoulder and did the same back. He’d shucked his jacket at the door and wore a dark T-shirt, tight across his biceps, the edge of one tattoo peeking from under a sleeve. His blond hair was mussed from the helmet, raked back with his fingers, falling forward now as he watched me. His jeans were faded, fraying at the seams, sculpted to his thighs and everything else. I rose and his gaze never left me, sliding down then back up to my face, lingering at points in between. Then he lifted his hand, stopping me.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he said, gesturing at the laptop.
“Yes,” I said. “But not with this.” I closed the computer and shot a pointed look at his bulging crotch.
A rough chuckle. “As tempting as that is, I’m going to have to insist you go back to work. You tested my distractibility. Now I get to test yours.”
“Oh?”
“Um-hmm.”
He walked over, opened the laptop, set it up, and waited for me to flip onto my stomach. Once I did, he retreated. A moment later, the bedsprings creaked. Hands slid over my calves, up to my thighs, squeezing gently before tugging down my panties. The hands again, pushing me up a little, parting my knees, and then . . . a warm mouth, hot tongue, and . . .
“Oh,” I said.
“Um-hmm.”
I sighed, quietly closed the laptop, and let myself be fully distracted.
—
An hour later, we were stretched out on the bed, naked, talking, drinking beer, and eating leftover nachos he’d brought home. He did most of the eating. I was still stuffed from dinner. He asked where we’d gone. When I told him, he whistled.
“Very nice. Gabriel footed the bill, I hope.”
“He did, though he can expense it. Also, he’s picking me up at my apartment at ten tomorrow, so I can’t sleep in as late as I’d hoped. I suspect he’ll want me to do some work after that.”
“I’ll be home studying. Got a midterm next week. Seems tomorrow’s going to be a write-off for us, then. I’m expected to hang at the clubhouse a few nights a week, and I’ve been remiss. If I don’t, my dad will know something’s up.” He took a last slug of beer and crushed the can. “Once we’ve gone public—with my dad and Gabriel—I’m going to need to ask you to join me now and then, if you can. Not your scene, I know . . .”
“That’s fine.”
“I’ll make it easy. But if the guys know I’m seeing you, they’ll wonder why you’re not there with me. Whether you think you’re too good for them or I’m embarrassed by them.” He made a face as he popped open another beer. “Politics. Motorcycle gang or country club, there’s always politics.”
“Do you usually date girls from there?” I said. “I know one seemed a little territorial.”
He sputtered a mouthful of beer. “Lily? She’s eighteen.”
“You’re twenty-two. It’s not cradle-robbing.”
“With Lily, it would be. She’s a very young eighteen. I don’t date girls who hang out at the clubhouse. Ever. Did you actually see them?”
“I’m not judging.”
He laughed. “Judge away. That is not my dating pool. I mostly go out with girls from school. Not a lot of that, though. I’m too busy, and it’s too complicated. Either way, no one expects me to bring casual dates to the clubhouse.”
“If you need me, I’m there.”
“Okay. I, um, wouldn’t make plans for next Saturday then. If you want me to keep my mouth shut a little longer, I will, but I’d rather come clean with my dad.”
“Just warn me, and I’ll talk to Gabriel. We can both get the this-is-a-bad-idea speech at once.”
“I know.” He took a long drink of his beer, then said, “But it’s not going to change anything, right?”
“Not for me.”
“Good.” He put the beer aside and pulled me over.
