Chapter 1 #2
“Sorry guys, but I’m not feeling this tonight,” he said, gently pushing the woman off.
The guy stopped, still inside his wife, looking perplexed. He had a nice-sized cock, although it was nothing on Ryder’s. Even in its current limp state, he was bigger than most guys hard.
“Did we do something wrong?” asked the guy.
This was one of those times when he wished he knew their names, but he wasn’t about to ask them now.
“Just had a stressful day. Nothing on you guys,” he said, standing up and pulling his briefs back on. “Don’t stop on my account. I’ll see myself out.”
He scooped his clothes up off the bedroom floor, and walked out into the living area of their apartment where he got dressed as quickly as he could. There were no sounds of them carrying on, in fact Ryder could hear them arguing.
“I’ve lost my chance now because of you,” said the guy.
“Well, you won’t stop talking about him. You’re obsessed,” she hissed.
Ryder didn’t want to hear any more. Still half dressed, he rushed out of there, pulling on the rest of his clothes in the corridor.
Luckily, nobody else was around, and once he was sure he had everything, he took off.
Out on the street, he didn’t have a fucking clue where he was.
He believed he was somewhere in Queens, but it looked suburban.
There was barely any traffic on the road, so he wasn’t close to where he lived, that was for certain.
He pulled out his phone and checked for cabs in the area. Okay, he wasn’t in the middle of nowhere; he could be home in twenty minutes. Ryder walked away from the couple’s apartment block before ordering a ride. No offence to the couple, but he hoped he never saw either of them again.
By Sunday, he couldn’t ignore his friends any longer.
They were threatening to come around to his apartment, which wouldn’t be difficult for Sebastian as they lived in the same building and he had a spare key.
Of course, Sebastian had the penthouse, but Ryder loved his place.
It had cost two million dollars, but he owned it outright.
The amount of money he’d made in the last three years was insane, but between Ethan and Sebastian, they’d made him invest it sensibly, so once the influencer bubble burst, which would happen one day, he’d be set up with a reliable income.
He let his guests in when the door buzzer sounded, and opened the door before turning on the coffee machine.
It was only a couple of minutes before Ethan and Mason walked in.
They were an eclectic bunch, but they were all hot and looked after their bodies.
Not that Ryder was biased about his friend group.
Ryder knew he was built like a tank. Mason was a grumpy bastard who had a scowl on his face all the time, but he was in impeccable shape.
Ethan was one of those muscle geeks, and if they weren’t like brothers, Ryder would go there.
Although the fact they were all tops would make that a challenge.
“You stopped sulking?” asked Mason, blunt as always.
“I wasn’t sulking.”
“How many people have you fucked this weekend?” he asked.
Ryder felt his face heating, but hoped his dark skin hid it from his friends.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ethan, concern in his voice. Damn his perceptiveness.
“I haven’t hooked up with anyone this weekend. What coffee do you want?”
“You know what coffee we drink,” said Ethan. “What’s going on, Ryder?”
He really didn’t want to talk about this, but maybe he needed to say something.
Ryder had tried to watch porn when he got home Friday night, and again on Saturday, and he still hadn’t been able to get hard.
He’d woken up with morning wood, but as soon as he gave his cock a few strokes, it had immediately deflated.
“Nothing. I’m just tired.” That was a safe response.
“Bullshit. What’s going on? I know it’s not about Friday night, because we’ve all pissed each other off many times before. But ignoring us all day yesterday wasn’t like you. If you need some downtime, you at least usually tell us to leave you be.”
“I was just pissed off that we’re not having Friendsgiving this year.”
“We are having it,” said Mason. “Just the three of us.”
Ryder smiled at that.
“But,” said Ethan. “You need to tell us what’s going on first.”
“Nothing. I just think . . . I think there might be something wrong with me.”
“There’s plenty wrong with you,” said Mason with a smirk.
“Do you really want to pull at that thread? How’s Zeb?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Put your dicks away, and get things back on track,” said Ethan.
“My dick’s bigger,” said Ryder, unable to help himself.
“Christ, it’s like having two children, and you’re both nearly forty. Focus, Ryder. What’s wrong with you? Are you talking about a health thing?”
“I dunno. I pulled this couple the other night, and I couldn’t get it up. Now I can’t get even get hard with porn. I haven’t cum in four days.”
“How often do you usually cum?” asked Ethan, twiddling his glasses awkwardly.
“Every day,” replied Ryder without hesitating.
“How do you find the time?” asked Mason.
“I don’t fuck every day, but I have to get off at night or I can’t sleep.”
“Did you sleep last night?” asked Ethan.
“I took a pill. Look, should I be worried about this? I mean, this hot guy was banging his wife, and she was sucking my limp dick with her tits bouncing in front of me, but nothing.”
“You can spare us the imagery,” said Mason. “Some of us haven’t been near a woman’s bits since we came out of them.”
Ryder snorted at that. Even Ethan smiled.
“It couldn’t hurt to speak to your doctor,” said Ethan. “It’s probably just stress, but best to rule anything else out.”
“Like what?”
“It could be your prostate.”
“I’m too young for that, aren’t I?”
“Always best to be safe. It’s probably stress, but see your doctor.”
Ryder wasn’t sure what to think. How could it be stress?
He wasn’t stressed about anything. Sure, he’d been pissed about his friends ditching their holiday tradition to spend time with their men—it was something friends always did when they were no longer single—but Ryder had hoped some of their traditions would remain.
That might have explained Friday night, because he was angry, but the fact that he couldn’t even jerk off was unheard of.
The thought of going to the doctor to talk about his prostate filled him with dread.
It wasn’t the examination or anything like that.
It was what came after. His dad had died of cancer in his forties, and seeing a man he’d idolized all his life wither away over months had been unbearable.
His mother still wasn’t over it, and she’d been a widow for fifteen years.
Ryder, along with his sisters, supported her financially.
She’d worked her ass off for them as kids, and she’d enjoy her retirement if he had anything to do with it.
His father’s life insurance policy had paid off the mortgage, so she had that security, but neither Ryder nor his sisters wanted her to struggle in her retirement.
Now the same thing that had happened to his dad was going to happen to him.
Although . . . that had been stomach cancer rather than prostate, but it meant Ryder had the cancer gene in him.
He’d read about it, and there was a higher probability of him getting it because one of his parents had.
He was catastrophizing, and he knew that, but that was what he did as a way of processing his conflicting thoughts.
“I don’t want the others to know about this. Not until it’s a thing, and not until after their holiday.”
He might be pissed with them, but he would not ruin their cruise over something that might be nothing, despite what he’d felt the other night. If they knew he was going to see his doctor, they’d want to stick around. Ryder had Ethan and Mason, and they were all the support he needed . . . for now.