Page 48 of Bonus Game
“I just finished unpacking, and I didn’t think you were going to bring me turkey leftovers from your boyfriend’s place, so I had to make do.”
Make do, which meant Sloan was likely stealing Riley’s food, too.
“Jake isn’t my boyfriend,” said Riley. “He’s my childhood best friend, and I’m not into guys, so fuck off.”
Sloan had him cornered in the small entryway of the apartment, and even though it obvious Riley was trying to walk past him, Sloan refused to move aside.
“Not tall, dark and scary,” said Sloan. “I was talking about the pretty one. I thought you guys were dating because you went all macho and tucked him into your sweater like he was a defenceless damsel. That shit would have sweptmeoff my feet, so excuse me for making assumptions.”
Right, he had totally done that to Allen. He had been so wired after seeing Sloan near Jake’s guy that he forgot how it might have looked.
“Jake and Allen are the ones who are dating. I was just making sure you stayed the fuck away from them,” said Riley. “Now, can you fucking move so I can go to my room and not have to look at your ugly face?”
Sloan didn’t have an ugly face—not that Riley would ever admit that out loud, or even to himself if he could help it. If anything, the bastard wastoopretty to be the foul-mouthed enforcer that he was. Maybe it was the hair, the shock of white-blond that always looked like he had been running his fingers through it, or the sky-blue eyes that gave him a softer look and made him seem sweeter.
Or maybe it was his mouth.
Before Riley could catch himself for staring, Sloan prowled closer, moving with a loose, dangerous ease that had his pulse climbing higher in his throat. Riley backed up without thinking until his spine hit the door hard enough to rattle it in its frame, and Sloan didn’t stop until he was right in front of him—close enough that Riley could feel the heat rolling off him.
That’s when his brain saidfuck you, and his gaze dragged down helplessly to Sloan’s lips.
They were too plush for a guy who broke noses for a living, bow-shaped and pink, glossy from spit once Sloan swept his tongue over the bottom one. And the freckles—Christ, the freckles—scattered across his cheekbones like someone had flicked paint over porcelain.
It was stupid how distracting it all was. And it was stupid how Riley couldn’t look away or do anything while Sloan was standing so close to him.
Blinking, breathing and speaking became impossible, and then the scent of aftershave hit him, taking away what senses were left. Clean with a warm edge to it, familiar enough to punch straight through his guard because it was so close to what Jake wore. It was a scent he associated with comfort, which was completely at odds with the way Riley’s chest tightened.
And that’s when Riley’s mind finally rebooted, and he realized how long he had beenstaringat Sloan’s face. How close they were standing. How his body had gone still, like he was anticipating something.
Sloan noticed. Of course, he noticed. His lips curled, fighting a smirk.
Riley swallowed hard, heat prickling the back of his neck.
He needed to look away.
He needed to get the fuck out of there.
“Alright,” said Sloan, his tone hitting a level of arrogance that had Riley bristling. “The pretty one isn’t your boyfriend. I believe you.”
Sloan chuckled as he slipped away, giving Riley the room he needed to breathe again. He returned to the kitchen, hands shoved into his pockets like some kind of hooligan while whistling an off-key tune.
Crazy motherfucker.
Riley hurried out of the entryway before he got cornered again, keeping his eyes on the floor so he wasn’t tempted to glare at Sloan and start a fight.
“I noticed my bedroom is above yours,” Sloan began.
Cursing, Riley stopped mid-sprint toglowerat him, fists clenching at his sides.
“This is my advance apology for keeping you awake when I bring chicks over. They tend to be loud with me—no idea why.”
Oh, this smug sonofabitch. If he didn’t put space between them in the next five seconds, he was going to hop the counter and strangle him. Then he wouldn’t get called up for sure, because he would be in jail.
But thankfully, he knew exactly how to respond. Riley could admit that his answering smile was a littletoogleeful as he straightened his back and looked Sloan dead in the eye.
“My sister once told me that girls are only loud when they’re faking it.”
He stayed long enough to see the look of slack-jawed horror on Sloan’s face, and then hurried to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. He slid to the floor and took a deep breath, fighting through the rush of despair that always washed over him whenever he thought of his sister, while battling his excitement of getting one up on Kingston Sloan.
