45. Wilder #2
We all turn our heads in unison, following his stare, and leaning against the marble bar is a vicious looking man dressed entirely in black.
He’s wearing an expensive black suit, the tailored kind that tells me he’s got money, and a hell of a lot of it.
He's talking to a man at his side, though talking is a generous word, because three other men are around them and he is barely acknowledging any of them.
One of them says something that makes the others laugh, but the man simply nods once, finishes his drink, and checks his watch.
“I have no idea,” I shrug, bringing my attention back to the table, and watch as Reed glances over his shoulder in his general direction.
He looks back at the table then does a double take, before he announces, “That's Vaughn Hayes, he’s the new CEO of Hayes Holdings.”
“The Hayes Holdings?” Matt asks instantly, seeming delighted by that information, and Reed nods.
“Yes, he took over a few months ago after his father died unexpectedly.”
I don't take my eyes off Reed as he talks, wondering how he knows so much about him. “And how do you know him?” I demand, since the mysterious man in question is ridiculously attractive, and Reed pauses with his drink half way to his mouth.
“He was at one of my father's parties, negotiating new terms with a few of father's business partners after his dads passing. I’ve heard he’s ruthless.”
“Even better,” Matteo beams, not taking his eyes off him, and from his stare, I’d say I’d have to chain him to the table to stop him from going after him.
Even with Matt’s attention on him, something unpleasant still twists in my stomach at the thought of Reed knowing him, so I lean in even closer to him. “Have you ever spoken to him?”
Reed startles at my proximity. “Who? Vaughn? Yes, we’ve spoken a little,” he replies, and that feeling in my gut gets even worse.
“What about?” I demand.
Reed shrugs, “Nothing important.” He searches my stare as he talks, before dropping his voice. “Besides, he’s really not my type.”
At that my heart flutters, as I lower my own voice. “Oh yeah, and what’s your type, Blue?”
“Insufferable, cocky racers apparently,” he claps back immediately, and I hate how quick my stomach flips at his words.
“Damn, does Matt know you have a crush on him?” I jokingly tease, and Reed shakes his head, finally taking the drink he’s been waiting for, but thanks to the smile now on his face, I finally feel settled.
The rest of dinner passes without incident, Matteo fixated on his new obsession the entire time, even though I don’t think the man has looked this way once. Not that it matters to Matt, it just makes the chase all the more interesting to him.
“Goodnight children,” he announces after we’ve all finished dessert, tossing some bills on the table mindlessly, before grabbing his drink and stalking to the bar.
“I think he might chew Hayes up and spit him out,” I comment dryly, not bothering to watch Matt work his charm, but Reed is already shaking his head.
“I don’t think so,” he starts, flicking his stare across the bar. “Vaughn Hayes has a reputation.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that will probably have Matteo trying to get a restraining order out against him, if he gets too close.”
I finally let myself look back at them now, and find Matt has seamlessly slipped himself into whatever conversation the men were clearly having, but Vaughn Hayes still has a completely blank mask.
“Honestly, I think that would just turn him on even more,” I sigh, guiding Reed out of the restaurant, while ensuring not to touch him while we’re in public.
We hit up a quieter bar in the hotel with Knox and Beck, before we all call it a night since we’ve got to be up early. The guys head to their room, and before Reed can go to his, I tuck my finger into his belt loop and tug him toward my door.
“You’ve got two minutes to get your stuff, pretty boy,” I tell him firmly, before releasing him and pushing inside my room, ensuring I count every second that he makes me wait.
When he finally knocks quietly on my door, I open it and drag him inside.
“That was six minutes, Blue,” I scold, and he only shrugs.
“I had to get all my stuff.” He holds up his bag as proof, before brushing past me and heading to the bathroom.
Of course I follow him, watching as he spreads all his skin care across the sink, before moving to brush his teeth. I move to do the same, and the whole thing feels ridiculously domesticated, and I don’t hate it, not even a little bit.
Once we’re done, he changes into one of my hoodies, claiming he’s cold, and I hate how the sight of him in it thrills me.
I watch as he settles cross-legged on the bed, pulling out his phone.
“Okay,” he starts, and I groan, already knowing what’s coming next.
“Socials,” he announces, and I ensure to groan again, even more dramatically.
“I'm tired,” I complain, but he doesn’t appear to care.
“So are your sponsors,” he claps back, more than used to my contempt these days, and easily taking it in his stride.
“I don't think sponsors get sleepy.”
“They do when their newly highest paid driver forgets to acknowledge them.”
I flop backwards onto the pillows while he opens tomorrow's scheduled posts. “What do you think?” He turns the screen toward me, and a photo he took at dinner of me, in one of the suits the brand Parker and Co. sent me, fills his screen.
The caption is already written, and when I read it I roll my eyes. “Nah.” He deletes half of it without complaint before I even have to ask him to.
“What about the song?” He scrolls through three different options and I reject them all. “You are impossible,” he sighs theatrically, before handing me the laptop. “You choose.”
I spend two minutes pretending to deliberate, before selecting the one he suggested first, and he raises his brows at me. “I hate you.”
“No, you don't.”
“No,” he admits quietly. “I really don't.”
The room falls silent at his response, the tension swirling all around us, at the things that keep building up and being left unsaid.
Neither of us say them and instead Reed focuses back on work, scheduling the post, and then getting up to plug in both our phones without me asking.
He checks that I've set my alarm and I make sure he's remembered to drink some water, and neither of us comment on the routine we have created between us.
We simply climb into bed, switching off the lights almost in unison, like we've done every night for the last two weeks, and then he rolls toward me in the dark, his lips finding mine.
I fuck him hard and deep, until we are both panting and breathless, and then somehow fall asleep beside him before my head has even fully settled against the pillow.