Chapter Six
Ryker
After what seemed like a five-hour marathon
dinner, Ryker excused himself to grab a smoke on Mac’s rooftop
patio. He didn’t smoke often; he just liked the excuse to slip out
for some much-needed space and quiet. All the loud conversations
gave him a headache and drained his energy. He heard footsteps
behind him and turned to see Mac approaching.
“Ry, you okay?” Mac asked.
“Yup, grabbing a smoke. You know the drill.”
He smiled, took a deep breath of the cool night air, and lit his
cigarette. Suddenly, his chat with Cal earlier in the day
resurfaced. “Hey, now that we have a moment to ourselves, I wanted
to talk to you about Cal.” He paused and pointed between them.
“Keep this between us for now, okay? And don’t freak out.”
“All right, what’s going on?” Mac asked
intently.
Ryker paused again and took a drag on his
cigarette, then slowly blew it out. “He’s been receiving some
strange texts lately from unknown numbers. I told him not to delete
anything, to check his security settings, and go to the police if
the situation escalates.”
“What do you mean by strange?”
Ryker ran a hand through his hair. “They
accuse Cal of cheating—which is ridiculous since he doesn’t have
romantic relationships. And this person suggests Cal should be
punished for his behavior.”
“Fuck. Does he have any idea who’s sending
these? A former lover?”
“You know Cal. One and done. He doesn’t even
sleep with the same person twice. How would he tick someone off
that much? And how did this person get his number?” Ryker shook his
head. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this situation.”
Mac paced back and forth. “I don’t like the
sound of it either. Is there anything we can do?”
Ryker let out a sigh. “I gave him the
rundown already. For now, it’s sort of like spam. Weird and
annoying, but not necessarily illegal. He needs to keep tabs and be
smart about where he goes and who he’s with. But I think we should
take turns checking in with him every day, just to be safe.”
“Agreed. Thanks for the heads-up. Cal may
want to consider hiring a PI to see if anyone’s been following him.
Just a thought.” Mac stopped pacing to stare out at the Manhattan
skyline.
“Not a bad idea. You can tell him, but
knowing Cal, he’ll refuse,” Ryker said. “On another topic, I
noticed you and Wes having a rather involved conversation at
dinner. You wanna bring me up to speed?” He held his breath,
waiting for the answer.
Mac smiled and shook his head. “He just
wanted to know more about you. I told him to ask you instead, but
that means having an actual conversation with him, not giving him
an ultimatum and walking away.”
“I wasn’t expecting to have a conversation
with him tonight, Mac. You could have given me fair warning that
he’d be here,” Ryker countered, his body tense and rigid.
“If I had, you would have refused to come.
Ry, come on. I know you. Please, please just talk to Wes. Get to
know him a bit and see if the book series might be worth
considering.” Mac’s rare but effective pleading look was Ryker’s
undoing. He could never say no to Mac’s sad face, and tonight was
proving to be no exception. Fuck me!
“Okay, okay. Don’t beg. It’s beneath you.
Send him up here and I’ll force myself to talk to him.” Ryker
paused and gestured at the cigarette in his hand. “But if he makes
a comment about my one smoke for the month, that’s it.” He chuckled
darkly and watched as Mac gave a wave and headed back
downstairs.
Ryker finished his cigarette and walked over
to the lounger at the far corner of the patio. He sat down and
leaned all the way back, closing his eyes to take in the sounds of
the city streets below. The white noise of it lulled him into a
relaxed state, until the familiar sounds and smells of the city
were suddenly overpowered by citrus and salt, reminding Ryker of a
day by the sea. He recognized that distinctive smell from earlier
in the night.
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Your Prince
Charming has arrived.”
****
Wes
While having coffee in the living room, Wes
had noticed Ryker slip out. He wondered where Ryker was going, and
his gut clenched when he thought he might be leaving the party.
Despite some interesting conversations over dinner with various
guests, Wes’s attention kept veering back to Ryker and those
telling cobalt eyes.
Ryker might be quiet in nature, but his
beautiful eyes—wide and expressive—spoke volumes. Wes could tell
the man had a lot to say. He just needed to know how to draw it
out. For some reason he’d yet to understand, Wes wanted to get to
know Ryker, book deal or not. He’d think about the why of that
later.
So, here he was, silently slipping up to the
rooftop patio thanks to Mac’s directions.
Ryker was lying on one of the teak patio
loungers, his long body stretched out, with one leg bent. With his
eyes closed and a small smile in place, Ryker’s face was the
picture of serenity. The tiny stringed lights overhead winked and
cast a soft glow on Ryker’s profile, highlighting the dark stubble
on his smooth skin and lips so lush they gave Wes the dirtiest of
thoughts. The taut lines of Ryker’s arms and legs strained under
his sleek clothes, and Wes could so easily picture him naked in the
very same pose. Waiting. Anticipating.
Fuck. Stop staring at the hot man. You’ve
seen plenty of them, Wes reminded himself. He took a few deep
breaths and, once he got himself back under a semblance of control,
sauntered up to the lounger. He could smell the spicy scent that
was uniquely Ryker, mixed in with something else. Tobacco?
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Your Prince
Charming has arrived,” Wes said.
“I’m awake, Wes, and a beauty, I am not.”
Ryker opened his eyes and pushed himself up to a sitting position
in one smooth movement, then ran his hands over his hair, which
fell in messy waves around his shoulders. “And you’re no Prince
Charming, but you certainly have the ego of one.”
“I think you’re too modest, Ryker. Although
if you continue with the smoking…” Wes chuckled and Ryker’s
fuck-off expression emerged again. Maybe Wes needed to dial back
the smart-ass comments just a bit and focus more on honesty. Ryker
would respect that, right?
Wes sat down on the lounger across from
Ryker, staring straight into his eyes. “I’m no prince, but I do
admit to my ego. I come by it honestly. My work speaks for
itself.”
Ryker’s eyes were still cool but growing
warmer, so Wes continued. “So, I’ve admitted I’m conceited, and
you’ve admitted you like that about me—”
Ryker’s burst of incredulous laughter
surprised Wes, who couldn’t help but stare at the way Ryker’s smile
transformed his face. This Sleeping Beauty was even more stunning
than at first glance. Wes’s blood thrummed, his heart beating a
wild rhythm, and his dick grew hard despite the confines of his
slim dress pants.
“I actually haven’t admitted that, but I
guess you’re starting to grow on me,” Ryker said. “Like mold.”
“Eh, I’ve been called worse.” Wes shrugged
and grinned in response. “Can we have an actual conversation? Let’s
head back inside to talk. It’s a bit chilly at this time of
night.”
Ryker got up and stopped right in front of
Wes, touching his suit lapel—or rather, straightening it out.
The heat of Ryker’s fingers burned through
the expensive material like a brand, and Wes wondered if Ryker felt
the same electricity. Wes stared at those haunting blue eyes, and
his heartbeat pulsed double time. Wes leaned closer to those sinful
lips. Maybe just one taste.
And then Wes found himself alone again when
Ryker abruptly stepped back and headed for the stairs, turning at
the last minute.
“Okay, Wes,” Ryker said. “But I warn you,
I’m still not sold on this book series. You’re going to have to do
your best to convince me. I’m a stubborn pain in the ass who likes
his routine.”
The mention of the book deal broke Wes out
of his sexual haze. Yes, the books. After all, that was the reason
he was here. He’d better lock this sexual tension away and focus on
his other desires. Like writing.
He smiled at Ryker with his cockiest grin
and motioned to the doors. “Lead the way.”
****
Ryker
Holy hell, I was thirty seconds away from
kissing Wes. What is wrong with me?
It seemed Ryker’s hormones had a mind of
their own around Wes, despite knowing that the man was trouble. A
well-intentioned touch to straighten Wes’s lapel had backfired when
Ryker felt the heat of Wes’s solid chest. Standing that close,
Ryker had wanted to kiss the freckles that dotted Wes’s sharp nose
and cheekbones before moving his way down to the full lips that
beckoned with their softness. His blood had rushed south so fast
that Ryker had to turn suddenly toward the patio doors so Wes
wouldn’t see the bulge in his now extra-tight jeans. Ouch.
Serves you right, almost kissing him. What the fuck were you
thinking?
Ryker hadn’t had a hookup in months, so that
had to be it. It’s just a reaction to prolonged frustration.
It wasn’t like he was suddenly tempted by this blond-haired devil;
he was just horny.
Ryker walked down to Mac’s living room,
which was now empty, and grabbed a spot on the sectional, Wes
following suit.
“So, why don’t you work well with others?
And why the dirty look when you saw me for the first time tonight?”
Wes asked.
“I did some research on you, and while I
respect your early work, I’m not keen on the fact that you
publicize your life. That’s the complete opposite of me. And I was
angry that I was ambushed tonight. I didn’t know you’d be
here.”
“I can’t speak as to why Mac didn’t tell
you. But don’t dismiss this project based on faulty assumptions
about who I am personally instead of the quality of my work.”
“I’m not making assumptions. I look at the
facts.” Ryker’s face flushed. “Most of your social media is about
parties rather than your writing. That’s not me. I care about my
work and it comes first. It is my reason for being. I just don’t
think that you and I would be a good match given our differences in
priorities.”
“My priority is writing the best book I can,
whether fiction or non-fiction. But being in the media is also part
of my job. That’s what generates sales. Come on, Ryker, you know
this.”
Ryker flinched. “I’m sure there are other
writers who would love the opportunity to work with you. I suggest
you talk to Mac about finding a more suitable partner for this
collaboration.”
Wes started to talk, but Ryker raised a hand
to stop him. “I value privacy as well as honesty,” he went on. “And
I had a really bad experience with a colleague back when I was a
journalist. I won’t bore you with the details, but I really don’t
think we’d be a good fit working together.”
Wes crossed his arms over his expansive
chest and cocked his head, studying Ryker for several moments, his
hazel eyes suddenly dark and serious. “I’m going to share something
personal with you, something I haven’t told anyone but Grey.” Wes
paused and ran a hand over his blond hair, down his neck, and then
over his square jaw, looking uncomfortable for the first time that
evening.
“I’m hitting a wall when it comes to my
writing. The self-help books have done well for me, and I used to
love everything that came with it. But lately, I’m not inspired to
write much of anything. And that has to change. Writing has been my
salvation since I was a kid. It was my escape, and then my ticket
to a better life. But lately… I can’t describe to you the stress I
feel when I sit down and I have nothing to say. Nothing worth
publishing, anyway. When Mac called me about this idea, I had a gut
reaction that this was the answer I was searching for. So my
motives are selfish, to be sure. But I promise you, I’m the
hardest-working writer you’ll ever collaborate with, and I mean
what I say. I’m not shy. And I don’t lie. Feel free to ask
around.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through that, Wes.
But I don’t know that this changes my opinion about working
together. I rely on my routine.” Ryker paused. “I have a set way of
doing things when I sit down to write a novel. I need it that
way.”
“I understand that, but you work with an
editor. You have beta readers. You work with several people to
create your final published work. It’s not just you in a
vacuum.”
Ryker pondered Wes’s comment for a moment.
“True. But I’ve done most of the work and then it’s adjustments. I
don’t know if I’m capable or willing to share my creative process
with another writer.”
“How do you know unless you try?”
There was a quiet pause in the room when Wes
finished talking, and neither of them looked away.
Ryker wondered if he should take this
chance. Would it be worth the anxiety he was feeling? Mac kept
encouraging him to get out of his comfort zone and take creative
risks. Maybe this was the time for that to happen. Or maybe he was
about to make another big mistake.
“I’m still not convinced,” Ryker said. “I
think we ought to get to know each other first. We can meet up
while you’re in town and work on a few creative pieces to see if
we’re a good match. A book series is a serious commitment, and we
both have to buy in one hundred percent to make it successful. And
I don’t do anything halfway.”
Wes nodded. “Sounds fair.”
“Good, stop by my place Monday morning for
our first meeting. Give me your number and I’ll text you the
details.”
“Done,” Wes replied confidently.
“Oh, and one other thing.”
“Name it.”
“I want you to meet my mother,” Ryker said
with a smirk on his face.
Wes’s shocked expression was priceless.