Chapter Nineteen

Ryker

Sydney, Australia. Ryker got his tablet set up for a video call

with his sister, Rachel, a good distraction for his consuming

thoughts of Wes and how much he missed him. Who am I right

now? He focused his attention on the task at hand and waited

for his sister to dial in.

“Ryker, you shit, you haven’t called me in a

month! What’s with that, bro?” His sister’s laughing face appeared

on his screen. Despite their differences in age and personality,

they shared the same blue eyes and dark hair. She looked healthy,

glowing. Her usual happy self.

Ryker shrugged. “Sorry, I get so caught up

in my writing sometimes that I lose track of time. You know me.” He

smiled. “So, what’s up with you, Rach? How’s the weather down

under?”

“Hot and sunny, honey. I’m busy as usual,

but classes finish in two weeks, then finals, then grading papers,

ugh. Then I’m headed back to New York, baby!” She squealed and

punched a fist in the air.

Ryker laughed at his sister’s antics.

“Awesome. Do you know where you want to stay yet?”

“I’ll bunk in with Mom.”

“Okay. You’re always welcome here, too,” he

replied.

“I know. Maybe I’ll spend a week with you,

split the time. As long as that’s okay and I’m not crimping your

style,” she joked. “Oh, and I have some other good news. I was

offered a tenured position at Stanford, so I’ll be moving back to

the US in August!” she yelled.

“Stanford! Holy shit, Rach, I’m so proud of

you. Congrats! Wait, that’s in San Francisco, right?”

“Close by, yup.”

“I’ve got a friend traveling through San

Francisco now on a book tour. He says the food and people are

amazing.” Ryker flushed just thinking about Wes.

“And who might that friend be?” she asked

teasingly.

Ryker cleared his throat. “Wes Stewart. You

may have heard of him.”

Rachel interrupted. “The mystery author?

That’s fucking awesome. And he writes all those other books for

wannabe authors. He’s a great writer. And he’s hot. And gay. So, is

he a work-only friend or a friend with benefits?” she asked with a

smirk.

“No comment. Next subject, please,” Ryker

replied, his flushed cheeks giving him away.

“Come on, Ry, spill,” she cajoled.

“Nope. All I’ll say, in confidence, is that

he and I are working on a new book series together. We’ve started

on some ideas. So far, so good. He’s smart, charming—he knows he’s

charming—and despite an initial rocky start, things are moving in

the right direction. And, yes, before you ask, he’s even better

looking in person. Next topic. How’s your dating life? Any cute

Aussie men catch your eye?”

“Please, with this teaching schedule and my

research, who has time? Maybe when I land back in the US. Oh, wait,

I know absolutely no one in California, so that means I’ll probably

have to use one of those dating apps. Agh!” She rolled her eyes

dramatically. “I’m thirty-eight years old, Ry. I just want to find

one nice, decent, extremely hot guy to settle down with. Is that

too much to ask?”

“He’s out there, Rach. But just to be sure,

you better get your dating profile updated for your move back to

the US.”

“Yeah, yeah. There was something else I

wanted to talk to you about, but I want you to listen to what I

have to say before you respond, okay? Please don’t freak out or

anything.” She paused and ran her hands through her hair. “I’m

going to submit my DNA to one of those genealogy sites.”

Ryker was stunned into silence. “Why would

you want to do that?” he finally asked.

“I think it might be helpful to find out

what happened to Dad,” she replied quietly.

Ryker was both horrified and frightened at

the turn of their conversation “Rach, he left us. Left a note

saying he couldn’t do it anymore and then disappeared. Never paid

child support, nothing. And you want to see if we can track him

down? After all these years? For what?”

“For closure. You may not need it, but I do.

I need to know why the man who was so caring and loving with me

just up and left. I have questions that I need answers to,” she

said passionately.

“You do what you feel is right, but I’m not

comfortable with this. Have you told Mama? I don’t want to think

about him. He’s not worth my time,” Ryker spat out, the anger at

his father simmering inside him like red-hot embers, burning slowly

but never quite fading.

Her blue eyes filled with tears. “I’ve got

to talk to her before I proceed, but I’ve already made up my mind.

I just wanted to tell you so you were prepared,” she murmured as

she wiped her face.

Ryker rubbed his bracelets. “I’m sorry, but

I don’t know what to say about this. I think you’re opening a door

that is better left closed. I love you and I don’t want to see you

get hurt, Rach,” he said, kissing his fingertips and pressing his

palm to the screen. Rachel did the same, so that their hands were

aligned. Just like they used to do when they were kids.

“Thanks, Ry. I love you, too. I’ll be okay,

I promise.” She sighed and cleared her throat, back to her usual

perky self. “I have a class to prepare for, so I’d better say

goodbye. I’ll e-mail you the details of my trip home and my moving

plans once it’s all arranged, okay?”

“Okay. Will you be here June fifteenth? I’m

attending the Heart2Home shelter benefit and would love for you to

come with.”

“Definitely. Hugs and kisses to Spock,

Isaac, and Princess Leia. Bye!” She waved and logged off.

Ryker stared at his laptop screen, trying to

process Rachel’s bombshell news about searching for their father.

At thirty-three, Ryker had made peace with not knowing where his

father was. But his sister obviously did not feel the same. She was

older. She remembered him, and it was clear she had questions that

needed answers.

Ryker’s gut told him that Rachel’s search

might lead to difficult truths. More changes to his life were

coming, and he’d better be prepared.

He needed to talk to someone. Without

thinking, he dialed Wes’s number.

****

Wes

So much for business before pleasure,

Wes thought as he made his way past the baggage area at La Guardia

Airport, hurrying to get out of the terminal. The impulse to see

Ryker again was too strong for Wes to ignore, even if it meant

rescheduling two days, taking a five-and-a-half-hour flight from LA

to New York, going through security screening, and enduring

additional transit time. By coincidence, on his flight over, Ryker

had called and left a voicemail. Once Wes landed, he’d texted to

let him know he was in a business meeting but would contact him as

soon as possible. Something in Ryker’s voice was off and it worried

Wes. Maybe he wasn’t sleeping again.

Wes knew as soon as he’d booked this

surprise trip that he was done pretending Ryker was a casual fuck

buddy. The intimate connection they shared overpowered any concern

Wes had about their personal and work lives weaving toward a

potentially disastrous end. Ryker’s emotional grip on him was an

unexpected revelation. He just hoped his surprise visit would be

welcomed by Ryker’s open arms.

Wes located his car service and hopped in,

and another thirty minutes later he crossed the Queensboro Bridge

into Manhattan. Wes’s body felt more on edge now that the reunion

he craved was so close at hand. He replied to several e-mails,

calls, and texts to keep himself from jumping out of his skin. They

pulled up to the hotel and Wes leapt out of the car, heading for

the front desk to check in.

It had been a long-ass day, so Wes grabbed a

quick nap and shower to recharge and a nip of bourbon to calm his

nerves. Two hours later, dressed in his favorite black jeans, grey

Henley, and Chelsea boots, Wes was ready to go. Grabbing his

Burberry trench, he checked his phone again: 9:05 PM. He noted

several texts from Luca and replied to them on the ride over. He

was pacing in the lobby of Ryker’s building fifteen minutes

later.

As he stood there, now mere minutes away

from Ryker, he replayed their last encounter in his mind. He

recalled every touch and taste, and the gorgeous smile on Ryker’s

stunning face, his smooth, resonant voice moaning in pleasure.

Their pleasure. Wes wanted more and more memories of them together, and he wondered how many times would be

enough. He didn’t have an answer—and he was so far gone at this

point, he didn’t care. Maybe it would never be enough. He was

ready, and there was no turning back.

Wes: Hey, Sleeping Beauty, you

awake?

Ryker: Yup, watching a movie with my

furry sidekicks.

Wes: Feel like company?

Ryker: FaceTime?

Wes: Better.

Ryker: ???

Wes: I’m downstairs. Call security so I

can access the elevator.

The security guard’s phone rang two seconds

later, and the older man motioned Wes over.

As he stood up, a huge, fluttering sensation

took flight in Wes’s gut, and his whole body trembled with

excitement, his hand shaking slightly as he signed in. The elevator

ride felt like thirty minutes instead of thirty seconds, and as he

exited, Wes’s entire body clenched at the sight of Ryker leaning

against the doorjamb at the end of the hallway.

Ryker was barefoot, wearing a pair of

ripped, threadbare jeans, his dark hair spilling over sleek

shoulders, his smooth chest and biceps on display, the veins in his

arms bulging as one hand rested on his hipbone and the other high

up on the door. So much hot, supple skin just waiting to be touched

and explored. Wes had never seen a sexier vision in all his life

than Ryker, and his dick swelled so fast and so hard he caught his

breath.

Then Ryker slowly smiled, and Christ, his

face transformed—it was even more stunning than Wes remembered. He

wanted to be the reason that smile appeared over and over and over

again. Wes’s heart raced wildly at the sight of his beautiful man.

Yes, that was how he thought of Ryker in this moment. His.

Wes’s steps quickened. Drawing closer, he

threw his coat on the floor just outside the door and reached for

Ryker’s face with both hands, rubbing his stubbled cheeks with his

thumbs and taking in the sight of the deep blue eyes that haunted

his days and nights.

“Missed you,” Ryker whispered just before

their lips met.

The claiming kiss that followed echoed the

sentiment.

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