Chapter Eleven
RILEY
Riley hadn’t come that fast in—hell, he couldn’t remember when.
The rush of it still buzzed through his muscles, a hot, dizzy hum that left him breathless and a little stunned.
Jason’s skin was still slick against his, the smell of him everywhere.
He hadn’t meant for it to happen like that, but something about Jason had short-circuited everything.
Not what he’d expected. Not at all. It shouldn’t feel like home, the way Jason’s fingers brushed his jaw. But it did.
This wasn’t how hookups went. Hookups didn’t make him feel wanted, not past the moment when they’d both gotten off. Yet the way Jason had reached blindly for Riley as he’d gasped out his climax—that did.
His heartbeat was still a little fast when he levered himself off Jason to lie beside him instead of squashing him.
And then he slid his arm across Jason’s chest, because for an instant Jason had looked worried as he’d moved, as if he were leaving.
God, no. Riley wasn’t going anywhere until he’d recovered from that.
Okay, it had been a while since he’d last had sex, but that still didn’t account for just how good it had been, given that they hadn’t really done anything. Almost dangerously good, because it had left him craving more. If he were actually to fuck Jason? It might just kill him. Be worth it, though.
He flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. His body still thrummed, and he realized how much he liked having Jason’s warmth pressing lightly against his side. Usually, either he or the other guy would be getting dressed right about now, and leaving. He should be.
But Riley didn’t feel that urge. Jason was comfortable. Easy. Not something Riley was used to or something he should want, but kind of nice all the same.
Unlike this damn motel. Staring up at the ceiling, he noticed for the first time the large brown water stain. “God, this place is a real shithole.”
Jason stiffened beside him. “It’s not much, but Mrs. Carmichael’s tried to keep it going,” he said reproachfully. “Her husband ran out on her. She’s done the best she can.”
Riley needed to watch his mouth. Evidently, his opinion of the people he’d met so far in this town was very different from Jason’s.
“Must have been tough for her,” he said, hoping to soothe Jason.
“From all I’ve heard, she’s better off without him,” Jason said. “He kept cheating on her.”
He stilled for an instant before moving away from Riley slightly. When Riley turned his head to look at him, Jason was watching him closely, eyes painfully earnest on Riley’s face. “I never asked—are you with someone?”
Riley blinked. What the hell kind of question was that? He should have said It’s none of your damn business. What he did say took him by surprise. “You think I’m a cheater?”
“No!” Jason dropped his gaze and his cheeks darkened. “It’s just—I just realized, we don’t know anything about one another. Not really. And some people have open relationships, and that—that would be fine.”
Except from the misery in his voice, it evidently wouldn’t be fine.
God, Riley hoped Jason didn’t think this was turning into something. Because it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
Wanting someone was fine, but needing someone—that was dangerous. He’d learned that the hard way, first from his dad, then from every friend, every guy, every casting director who wanted him to be better, brighter, more.
So no, this wasn’t a love story.
Except maybe for the part of him that already wanted to keep Jason safe from everything. Including Riley himself.
He reached out and tilted Jason’s face up to meet his gaze.
“I swear to you, I’m not seeing anyone, and I’m not interested in anyone else.
” Which was far more than he’d intended to say, so he moved on swiftly.
“Tell me, how come everyone in a small town knows everything about everyone else? Is nothing private?”
Jason grinned suddenly. “You’re kidding, right?
It’s not just that everyone knows everyone else’s business—everyone has an opinion on it.
When Sam redecorated the diner, I swear every person in town turned up on the doorstep, even those who’d never been there before.
And every single one of them let her know what they thought of her choices. ”
“Can’t be easy, cooking for such a bunch of critics,” Riley said. “How’d you learn to cook like that? Your mom?”
Jason swallowed hard and turned onto his back, his gaze locking onto the water stain above them as if he could will himself elsewhere. “She passed away a few years back.”
“Ah, shit, Jason—I’m sorry.” Sorry she’d died, sorry he’d asked. Fucking fantastic social skills there, Riley. “Your dad?”
“Took off before I was born.”
He said it like it didn’t matter. Like it was just a fact, like saying that it had rained yesterday. But Riley caught the way his fingers clenched into the sheets and his jaw tightened, as if bracing himself for pity or some well-meaning platitude.
Riley grappled for words, swallowing down the first ones that came to mind. “That sucks,” he said eventually.
Jason blinked as if he hadn’t expected that. Then something in his shoulders eased, very slightly. “It did,” he admitted.
Riley chewed his lip, wondering what topic he could raise that wouldn’t be a bear trap.
“This is so much better than some places I’ve stayed.
” It was a neutral subject to break the newly awkward silence.
Or so he hoped. “This one place—I swear, I had to clear the roaches out of the tray before I could even shower.” The fact it had been the only apartment he’d been able to afford didn’t need mentioning.
“And then there was this motel where I’m pretty sure the carpet had its own ecosystem.
The pink bedspread was older than I was, and the way it clashed with the orange flocked wallpaper—God, I wanted to put my eyes out.
And the walls were hung with pictures of creepy-eyed, staring children.
” He shuddered at the memory. “I lasted almost two hours before I bailed to sleep in the car.”
Jason stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re kidding. Why would anyone stay there?”
“My guess is, they rented the rooms by the hour. I really should have done my homework before booking in.” Except, it had been the only place he’d been able to afford. Almost like there was a pattern to his life or something.
“Then there was the one with pink plastic flamingoes. Inside the room.”
A spurt of laughter escaped Jason. “Don’t tell Mrs. Carmichael. She’d probably love the idea.”
Riley rolled over, propping himself on one elbow. The shiny motel bedspread bunched thinly beneath him, and Jason’s warmth was a contrast to the air-conditioned chill. An inexplicable fondness filled him as he took in the way Jason’s eyes were sparkling with humor, that old sorrow wiped away.
As he returned Riley’s gaze, Jason’s eyes dropped briefly to Riley’s lips, and he flicked his tongue out to moisten his own. Riley was fairly sure Jason didn’t know he’d done it. He was very sure Jason had no idea what effect that had on Riley.
He leaned in and kissed Jason. The problem was, once his lips had met Jason’s again, he didn’t want to stop.
They kissed for hours, or maybe days, touching one another in a way that wasn’t just about sex.
At least, not from Riley. He needed to know everything about Jason’s body, to imprint it on his memory so that, when he left here, he’d know how Jason tasted, and he’d be able to remember every last detail—the scar on his side, the mole on his left kneecap and the way the hairs on his forearms raised when Riley nibbled his neck.
He wanted to remember everything about Jason.
He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to want more than Jason’s body, but he did. He didn’t know when it had happened, only that it had.
Jason’s fingers curled at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer. Jason gasped like a startled bird when Riley licked the hollow of his throat, unfurling an inexplicable fondness deep inside Riley.
And then they lost themselves again, mouths hungry and slow, bodies moving together. The world outside ceased to exist—only Jason’s warmth, Jason’s hands, Jason’s breath against his ear.
Riley let himself fall.
* * *
He drifted up from sleep, aware he was being held and how good it felt.
Almost like home. And then he came fully awake, sourness in his throat as he realized just how fucking delusional he was.
But when he looked at Jason, asleep beside him, his mouth slightly open as he breathed softly and easily, he couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his temple.
It caused Jason to stir and open his eyes slowly. He looked disoriented for a second, but as his eyes cleared and he looked at Riley, he smiled that smile again, the one that left Riley defenseless and helpless.
“Hey,” he said softly to Riley. And then he looked around the room. “What time is it? I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Riley reached for his phone. “Almost eight,” he said, surprised at how late it was.
“Shit!” Jason said, and disentangled himself abruptly from Riley. “Shit,” he said again, getting out of bed and hunting for his clothes.
“What is it?” Riley asked, rolling over and watching Jason drag his jeans on.
“I’m late for dinner,” Jason said. “And as I’m supposed to have cooked it, that’s not ideal.”
“It’s not like you’re going to be in trouble, though. Are you?” Riley asked, wondering what the hell kind of situation Jason lived in.
“Worse,” Jason said, looking up with a rueful smile. “They’re all going to know why I’m late and tease the everlasting hell out of me.”
“They all?”
“The rest of the pack,” Jason clarified, pulling his t-shirt on over his head. “Fuck,” he said, as he saw it was inside out, and pulled it off again.
Riley sat bolt upright, his heart slamming against his ribs. He had a couple of precious seconds to bring his expression back under control while Jason put his shirt back on.
“Pack?” Despite his best effort, his voice was thin. It felt as if all the air had been punched out of him. For a split-second, something vile crawled in his head. Something he hadn’t even realized was there, and which sounded like his father’s voice. Different. Dangerous. Wrong.
He shoved it down hard. That wasn’t him. He knew better than that.
“You’re a shifter?” he asked, and it sounded—not happy.
Jason froze. When he looked at Riley, there was fear in his face and his body was tensed, like he expected a blow. His voice was low and tight. “Is that a problem?”
Riley breathed, trying to control the pulse that was still hammering. No, it wasn’t a problem. His reply should have been automatic, but he realized he’d hesitated when he saw Jason tense even further.
Shit. Shit. “No,” Riley said swiftly. “Of course not. I just…” He gave a shaky laugh and got out of bed, moving over to Jason without thinking. “You surprised me, that’s all.”
Jason’s wariness eased a fraction, though Riley could still see shadows in his eyes. He reached out, brushed his fingers against Jason’s jaw. “Seriously,” he said, softer now, making sure he held Jason’s gaze, “You just caught me off guard. Nothing more, I swear.”
Jason’s smile crept back, the one that did dangerous things to Riley’s heart, as relief lit his face like sunrise. Riley kissed him before he could think better of it.
“I’ll see you after work tomorrow,” Riley said, when he finally, reluctantly had finished exploring every last part of Jason’s mouth, just in case he’d missed a bit earlier.
Jason looked happier, but there was still a flicker of uncertainty that had Riley wrapping one of his dark curls around his finger and tugging it. “You took me by surprise, is all,” he said. “Nothing more, I promise.”
Jason’s smile dawned again, the one that had Riley wanting to write symphonies and paint masterpieces. Anything to try and convey the beauty of it.
Once Jason had gone, Riley locked the door and slumped back against it. The room was still thick with the scent of sex, of Jason, of something too tender to name. He rubbed a hand across his face, then pushed off and stumbled toward the bed. The sheets were a mess, but Jason’s warmth lingered.
He lay down carefully, like he might disturb something if he moved too fast.
Jason was a shifter.
He should’ve known. Should’ve asked. Should’ve seen it. But all he’d seen was Jason—soft and shy and surprising. Funny without meaning to be. Gentle in ways Riley hadn’t expected and couldn’t stop wanting.
And now? Now he was fucked.
He was sleeping with someone inside the story he was here to break. Not merely connected but central to it. He hadn’t just crossed a line—he hadn’t even noticed the line was there.
This was supposed to be the story that made him. Nothing personal about it, and certainly not someone who made him feel like he wasn’t constantly auditioning.
And now… he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t keep seeing Jason. That would compromise the story. Hell, it probably already had.
But the thought of not seeing him again made something in Riley flinch. Something he didn’t want to name.
He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He’d wanted this so badly. To be successful, for the first time in his life. To get his father’s attention, to be happy.
But he hadn’t planned on Jason. And now there was no clean way out.