Page 43 of The Risk Taker

Because it’s not empty like it’s been for the last ten times. This time, the guy I’ve been looking for all night is standing right there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Oh, come on.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I’ve spent the entire damn week trying not to think about him, and he shows up looking likethat? In a leather jacket of all things? The universe is fucking with me, it has to be.

Leather jackets are my weakness. And Nathan is wearing one over a white T-shirt that fits him like it was custom-made, making him look straight up illegal.

A beer gets set in front of me, breaking my trance for half a second. I don’t even look at it. I don’t look at the girl I’ve been talking to, either. No way I’m taking my eyes off him. With my luck, he’ll vanish again and I’ll spend the rest of the night staring at an empty doorway like an idiot.

I turn back to the girl beside me. “Hey—sorry. Think we can pick this up later?”

She blinks, confused, but I’m already stepping away, my attention glued on him.

“Hayes!” I call, cutting through a crowd of people until I catch up to him near the back hallway where it’s quieter, the sound of Austin’s shitty singing fading into a low hum.

He lifts his head and his shoulders tense as soon as he sees me. “Logan.”

“You came,” I say, because apparently that’s all my brain can come up with.

He shrugs, his eyes darting past me. “Being home alone was boring.”

I nod once, shifting my weight. Normally, this is the part where I’d joke, say something stupid that would make him roll his eyes, but the words won’t come.

All I can think about is that moment in the locker room.

The way his muscles had gone tight under my hands, his cock twitching under his boxers, and the way he’d jerked back like he’d been burned.

Now, standing in front of him, it feels like the air between us is wired, like one wrong move will set it off again.

“We should talk,” I say.

Nathan tenses, the little dip on his temple twitching. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he mutters, trying to sidestep me.

“Nathan.” I move without thinking, blocking his path. “It didn’t mean anything. Okay?”

He freezes, eyes flicking to mine, panic swirling in his gaze.

“We don’t need to make it a big deal,” I continue. “What happened in the locker room. It—” I blow out a breath, drag a hand through my hair. “It was just a reaction. Happens to everyone. Pressure, touch, whatever.” I force out a laugh. “We’ve all… gotten hard during massages. Doesn’t mean anything.”

His ears go pink. Mine probably match.

“Besides,” I add with a smirk, “everyone gets turned on by me.”

There’s a flicker at the corner of his mouth and half a laugh that doesn’t quite make it out.

“Just…” I swallow, my brows pulling together. “Don’t avoid me, alright? I—fuck. I don’t like it.”

He blinks, those dark brown eyes making it impossible to fucking think.

“I want you to roll your eyes and call me annoying,” I continue, because I like having his eyes on me and I don’t want to stop speaking if it means he’ll glance away. “I want you giving me shit when I’m late to practice. I want—” I stop, rub a hand over my jaw, searching for words that don’t sound pathetic. “I just want things to be normal between us again.”

He looks at me for a long time, long enough that I start to regret saying anything at all.

“It was just a reaction,” I say again, shrugging. “Doesn’t mean you’re gay.”

The silence stretches between us as I keep my eyes on him, still silent, still watching me with that tense look on his face.