Page 37 of Kane

Like promises I can’t keep, and things I don’t deserve.

I lean in just a fraction, opening my mouth to speak, and that’s when my phone loudly interrupts us; alerting me that it is time for group.

Fuck.

I hover there, inches from Ryder’s perfect lips, his skin warm against mine.

And I realize I do not want to be friends with Ryder.

I want so much more.

But I will take whatever he is willing to give me, if it means I can have him at all.

Even if it hurts.

Especially if it hurts.

“I have to go,” I whisper.

Ryder nods as I push away from the table, standing to stretch.

Ryder does the same. He looks to the door, then to the elevators.

“Would you, uh…” He runs his hand through his dark hair, and the motion is strangely erotic, even though it’s awkward and somewhat anxious.

“Would you like a friend to walk with you?”

He stammers, clearly nervous, and something about that makes me feel relieved. The way he says that one word—friend—is so breathless, so sweet, it’s hard not to delude myself into thinking he wants more, too.

“I’d like that,” I say, and this time, I know I hear him gasp. “Very much.”

He smiles as he takes two steps ahead of me, and starts to walk, and I follow without hesitation, letting Ryder the barista lead me down into darkness once again.

Chapter Eleven

Ryder

The whole way down—one floor—I feel like my heart is going to leap out of my chest. I don’t want this—whatever is happening between us right now—to end.

I can’t deny that I feel something for Kane. Something that definitely doesn’t feel friendly in nature. Not just because he’s hot—though there is that whole Batman Villain vibe he’s got going on that just oh my God—focus Ryder!

I shove my hands into my pockets because if I don’t, I think I will put this elevator on hold indefinitely just so I can stop this moment from ending.

Preserve it forever. I glance at him beside me. His black jeans and studded boots, his wool coat. His long, dark beard with an almost faint red tint.

The ink peeking out over his fingers.

His touch wasn’t rough like I thought it would be. It was firm, warm. Assuring.

I want more of it. I want to feel that relief I felt when he grabbed my hand, like a damn addict. Can you be addicted to a person you barely know?

I’m not sure. But if it’s possible, I think I might be addicted to this man and I’ve barely even had a taste of him.

The door opens too quickly, but neither of us makes a point to move.

The doors close, and my heart rises into my throat as Kane presses the hold button, and I suck in a breath.

Kane doesn’t speak, just turns towards me, backing me up against the elevator wall, and every ounce of blood in my body rushes straight to my damn dick.