“Shit.” Gage stared down at his naked dick.
His naked, flaccid dick.
“Shit!”
He darted a quick glance at the door and held very still. When there was no indication from the other side that his client had heard him freaking the hell out, his shoulders relaxed the slightest bit.
But then he stared down at his dick again, and they tightened the hell up again double quick.
God damn it, this was bad. This was really bad.
Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he gave himself a stroke. When that didn’t work, he did it again, harder.
The bite of pain didn’t even get a retaliatory reaction.
Like you can pop an angry boner. That’s not a thing, you idiot!
He released himself and pressed his fists into the countertop of the bathroom vanity. He’d never once, in his entire life, had trouble performing, and he couldn’t believe that he was starting to now.
Something had to be up. Or down, as matters would have it. He cast his dick another scathing glance, sighed, and settled down on the closed toilet lid.
He was too young for this. Wasn’t he? Anything could be possible, but a sudden onset of erectile dysfunction?
He shuddered at the very thought of it.
“No, no, no,” he whispered. “You can do this. Just . . . focus!”
He straightened, closed his eyes, and pulled in a deep, slow breath.
Okay, now . . . think sexy thoughts.
He rested his palms on his spread knees, and started to imagine the most beautiful, erotic woman he could.
Big, mouthwatering breasts. Thick, dark hair. Perfect skin. Drenching wet between her thighs as she starts to play with herself.
He bit his bottom lip and peeked down at his lap.
He huffed. Nothing. Not even a twitch.
“Come on, man. You gotta do your part, here. We’ve got a lady right outside that door, waiting for you to spring into action, so . . . do it.”
Okay, he’d try again. Closing his eyes, he started the same process.
Big, mouthwatering breasts . . .
Instead, his mind brought to the forefront Cassidy’s perfect, handful-sized tits with the scattering of freckles all over them.
Unbidden, a smile began to spread his lips. God, he loved her tiny breasts. The way they bounced when she rode his dick that hard way she was inclined to do, her breath hitching every time she landed on his hipbones with that perfect ass of hers.
And then there were the times they’d play video games together, and he’d look over at her when one of the videos would interrupt the gameplay. The light from the TV would flicker against her crazy hair, and she’d be rapt, staring wide-eyed at the screen, her eyes tracing the captions as quickly as they could.
Whenever they beat a game together, she’d toss her controller to the ground, race over to his seat, and cram her tongue down his throat while he tried his hardest to get inside her as quickly as he could.
He froze. Opening his eyes again, he glanced down between his thighs.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
There it was: the granddaddy of all erections, all raring to go.
“Well, crap.”
This was awkward. He couldn’t go out there with this! A woody he’d only gotten from thinking about Cassidy. He shouldn’t use it on someone else. Right? If there were a written protocol for situations like this, surely that rule would be near the top.
Ugh. He didn’t do awkward. Not ever.
“This is a hell of a day.”
Time to bail. Leaning forward, he searched through his discarded clothes until he found his cell. Muttering curses beneath his breath the entire time, he punched in the only number he’d ever bothered to memorize.
Ryker picked up on the first ring. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
Gage couldn’t believe he was doing this. That he had to do this. “I need a favor.”
“You know it’s a yes.” There was a pause on the other end. “Hey, are you okay? You sound off.”
I am off. He shoved the thought aside. “Is there any chance you’re close to the Strip right now?”
“I’m always close to the Strip.”
Gage took a deep breath and held it for a moment.
Last second to figure out an alternative. He nearly snorted. Like he ever took the time to figure out alternatives.
Quickest way out it was.
“I need you to take my client.”
There was silence on the other end.
Gage pulled his phone away from his ear for a quick glance to prove—yep—the call was still connected. “Ryker?”
“I’m here. Yeah, it’s no problem. When should I meet her?”
Gage rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. “Well . . . now?”
Another beat of silence. “You’re in a hotel room with her, aren’t you?”
“Technically, I’m in the bathroom—”
“Gage, what’s going on?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck if I know.”
Ryker sighed into the phone. “Look, I’ll be there in five to ten, just text me the address. But when I’m done, we’re talking. Big time. Meet me at the Classic Muscle?”
They’d started frequenting the restaurant devoted to muscle cars when the Harley Davidson Café on the Strip closed down—a fucking tragedy that. Almost as much of a tragedy as “talking.” But—
“I owe you one, so, yeah.” Ryker was the only person he would ever make that allowance for.
Ryker hung up without another word. Gage immediately texted him the location of the hotel and the room number, then began pulling on his clothes one wooden limb at a time. He’d probably have to go out there and actually say something to his client before just blazing out the door. He had a professional reputation to maintain.
Damn, this was one hell of a day.
He checked himself in the mirror, shoved a hand through his hair, and opened the door.
His client, a pretty but obviously shy woman in her thirties, sat primly on the edge of the bed, her eyes wary. “Is,” she audibly swallowed, “everything okay?”
Find the fastest, easiest way out of this.
Gage cocked his crooked grin. “Yeah, baby.” He looked her over. Her brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun. Black, thick-framed glasses perched on the end of her nose. Hell, Ryker was going to love her. He had a thing for librarian types. As Gage took her in, however, the erection he’d been sporting when he left the bathroom died a quick death.
He cleared his throat. “Just an emergency, actually.”
Her shoulders drooped. “An emergency?”
“But,” he said quickly, “I’ve got you covered.”
At just that moment, there was a knock at the door. Yes! Approximately two seconds to bail time. “Ah, here he is now.”
The librarian shot to her feet. “You called someone else?” she squeaked.
Gage opened the door, and Ryker walked in. The librarian’s protest abruptly ceased. Ryker always had this effect on women. Gage 100 percent liked females; that didn’t mean he couldn’t recognize Ryker was possibly the most handsome man Gage had ever encountered. Ryker was Chicano, with soulful brown eyes and curly black hair, which he kept closely cropped on the sides but arranged in perfect spirals on the top. With a slim but obviously fit build, he looked like he’d walked off the pages of a magazine. Ryker was no more his real first name than Gage was Gage’s, but the Martinez part was true.
Gage gestured toward his best friend in the entire world. “This is Ryker Martinez. Ryker—” Gage turned toward the librarian. “This is—”
Ah, fucking hell’s fire. He didn’t remember her name.
“Ethel,” she supplied, tripping forward a couple of steps and extending her hand.
Ryker slid into place, wrapping her small hand within his big one and raising it to his lips. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, Gage watched Ethel blush while Ryker kissed the back of her hand. His buddy was good.
“I couldn’t be more thrilled to be here,” Ryker crooned, traces of his accent making an appearance now that he was in character. In all other circumstances, Ryker’s accent ghosted.
“Yes, well,” Ethel said, smoothing her free hand over her bun.
“I’ll just leave you two to it,” Gage said, backing toward the still-open door. Neither of them paid attention to him.
He stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him, releasing a breath.
Free. Thank God.
Glancing down at his phone, he saw it was only two hours until Cassidy would be off work. A lightness filled his chest, and he automatically pulled up a text, asking her to meet him at Classic Muscle, too. With any luck, she’d show up early and save him from having to talk to Ryker.
Besides, he couldn’t wait for Ryker to meet her.
Gage’s head snapped back. Whoa.
His phone buzzed in his hand. A one-word response from Cassidy: Okay.
Gage frowned. That was weird. Usually, Cassidy’s texts were pages long, half of which were filled with creative profanity.
The lightness he was feeling took a hit. Her suffering was a one-two punch to the gut.
He heard a giggle from the room behind him. It was more than time to bail.
Out on the street, he pulled in a deep breath of fresh air. The café was a quick ride away, and the hum of his Harley between his legs was just the thing to help him shake the uneasiness he’d felt in the hotel room.
He parked his bike with the long line of others in the garage behind the café, then made his way inside, shedding his leather jacket as he slid into a booth.
He looked over the menu even though he had it memorized. As always, he wished he could order the brisket sandwich. That would make a cheat day to end all cheat days. Instead, he ordered a light beer, a cheat in and of itself, and a salad.
He picked at his food halfheartedly, not really feeling hungry, as he waited the hour it would take Ryker to finish with the client and meet him here. Eventually, he gave up on the salad and switched over to reading Cassidy’s past texts as he sipped his beer. The woman couldn’t write out an entire word to save her life. Her text speak ranged from normal—b4 for before—to absurd—:[ for vampire. That particular one had puzzled him for nearly thirty minutes. It hadn’t been until she’d sent a ;[—horny vampire, of course—that he’d figured it out. He caught himself grinning like an idiot, and, after casting a quick glance around the café to see if anyone noticed, he forced himself to stop acting crazy.
“You look ridiculous,” Ryker said, sliding into the bench seat opposite him.
Gage jumped and pounded his thumb against the power button of his phone, turning the screen black.
“Yeah, that wasn’t conspicuous.” Ryker hiked an eyebrow and reached for a menu.
Gage felt the back of his neck heat. Time to deflect. “So, how was . . . the librarian?” Shit, he’d already forgotten her name again.
“Trying to change the subject?” Ryker asked without looking up from his menu.
“Yes, damn it, and a friend would roll with it.”
“Hmm.” Ryker closed his menu with a snap. “I’m not sure a friend would, but I’ll allow it.” He pinned Gage with a pointed stare. “Momentarily.”
Gage swallowed hard.
Ryker narrowed his eyes.
The silence between them turned awkward and thick. “This is allowing it?” Gage asked through a tight throat.
A server appeared at Ryker’s elbow. She glanced up from her notepad. “What can I get . . . ” Her lips parted.
Ryker leaned back in the booth and spread his arms over the back of the seat. “Hello, cariña.”
Gage smirked as the accent made a full reappearance.
“H-hello.” The server stared down at her notepad, and two bright spots of pink stained her cheeks.
Gage hadn’t gotten that reaction. But then, he was typical fare here at Classic Muscle.
They both waited a couple of moments for the server to ask Ryker what he wanted to order; however, it soon became apparent that there were no questions forthcoming from her.
Ryker took mercy on her. “I’ll have the brisket sandwich, please. And a coffee.”
Son of a bitch. He knew Gage loved that sandwich.
“Uh-huh,” said the server. Then she turned sharply on her heel and skittered away without having written anything on her notepad.
Gage chuckled. “You’ll never get what you ordered.”
Ryker smiled slowly. “Oh, she’ll remember.”
Gage shrugged. Ryker was probably right. Not only would he get his sandwich but probably some free fries and a number written on the napkin beneath a bright red lipstick kiss, too.
Ryker got that look in his eye again. The one that hinted he was about to grill Gage for all he was worth.
“So,” Gage blurted. “The librarian?”
Ryker leaned forward. “Ethel was one of a kind, my friend.” He shifted to one hip and began fishing around in his back pocket. “Matter of fact, her tip was astronomical.” He pulled out a roll of bills, and Gage’s eyes widened. “I’ll be happy to split it with you. You know, finder’s fee.”
Gage spotted several hundred-dollar bills in the tip. “Damn, son, you’ve got some downstairs mojo.”
Ryker smiled that slow smile again. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
But as Ryker peeled several bills from the roll and held them out, Gage found himself tucking both hands in his lap. “Nope.” He shook his head. “You did the work. You keep it.”
Ryker frowned. They’d had arrangements like this several times in their lives—especially when they’d both first started in the business. Gage never turned down a share. For that matter, neither did Ryker.
“Okay, what is going on with you?”
Gage shrugged again and shifted his fork to the side of his salad plate. “Nothing’s going on.”
Ryker was quiet so long that Gage eventually had to look up from his plate or die of curiosity. His friend’s usually readable face had the oddest expression. It made Gage want to roll his shoulders. “What?” he asked defensively.
“You’re in love.”
Gage’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “Are you fucking insane?” He looked around the restaurant to check if anyone had heard that. “You can’t just say shit like that.”
“Oh, God.” Ryker shook his head. “And you’ve got it bad.”
Gage held out a hand, palm down. “Okay, let’s just slow down a second.”
“What’s her name?”
Gage’s brows crashed together. “There is no her.”
“Cut the—”
“Ryker, I’m not seeing any—”
“Bullshit. Tell me her name.”
“I have a friend, but it’s not—”
“Gage, tell me her name, or so help me—”
“Fine! All right! It’s Cassidy! God damn it, are you satisfied?”
Gage’s voice echoed through the utterly silent restaurant. Several tables over, someone coughed.
The server, who Gage just noticed at Ryker’s side—who knew how long she’d been there—placed Ryker’s coffee in front of him, her lips pressed together.
“Very satisfied,” Ryker said. “Gracias, cariña.”
Gage grunted and scrubbed a palm down his face as the server walked away.
“So.” Ryker took a noisy slurp of his coffee. “Cassidy.”
Gage groaned toward the ceiling.
“Is she pretty?”
Pretty? What a lame-ass word to describe Cassidy’s looks. “Ryker, I’m trying to tell you it’s not like that.”
Ryker sat his coffee down with a thud. “Is . . . she . . . pretty?” he asked again, enunciating every word.
Damn it, there was no getting out of this. Gage closed his eyes for a second, then pulled in and released a long breath before opening them again. “I’ve never been more attracted to a woman in my life,” he confessed.
Gage braced himself for it: the lecture. He knew it was coming. Worse, he deserved it. He and Ryker, they didn’t get to have romance for themselves. They sold it for a living. Getting involved with someone was not only a dead-end street, it was a major no-no.
So, when Ryker smiled, Gage frowned. What had he missed?
“Do you laugh with her?” Ryker asked.
Gage pushed a breath through his nose. Do I laugh with her? He’d never laughed more. Never smiled more.
Ryker’s smile widened. “Well, well, well.” He took another sip of coffee. “When do I get to meet her?”
Gage leaned forward. “Ryker, you’re not helping. I’m a gigolo.” He lowered his voice on the last word. “She’s my fuck buddy. This is where you help me get my head on straight. Neither of us wants a relationship.”
Ryker tsked. “Want it or not, it looks like you’ve got one.”
Gage wrinkled his nose then caught himself doing it. When had he picked up that little affectation? “Oh, yeah. And it’s going to be really successful, too. She’ll kiss me good-bye as I head off to work. To fuck other people. We’ll be so happy.”
Ryker shrugged. “So, you quit. Everyone in this business quits sooner or later. You just found your later.”
“Quit?” Gage threw his hands wide. “And do what?” He flopped back against the seat. “Oh, yes, that fixed everything. Now she’ll kiss me on my cheek as I head off to do absolutely nothing, because I have no discernable skills other than providing multiple orgasms. I can’t do anything else, Ryker. You fucking know that!”
Gage’s breaths billowed in and out of his chest as though he’d just run a marathon. At least this time, he’d had the forethought to keep his voice down. No one seemed to be looking their way.
Nope, the only eyes on him were Ryker’s. And that was just about as bad as an entire restaurant full anyway.
“Wow,” Ryker said, his eyes wide.
“Just—” Gage blew out an exasperated breath as he shoved a hand through his hair. “Can we forget that just happened?”
Ryker shook his head. “That’s a big nope.”
“Of course it is.” Gage reached for his beer and tossed back the rest of it. Scanning the restaurant, he found their server and waved his hand, pointing at his empty glass. Fuck, he may as well order the sandwich at this point. No amount of time in the gym was going to fix this, though he’d happily run himself ragged after this nightmare of a conversation.
“No discernable skills, huh?”
“Ryker, we grew up together. You know that more than anyone.” Oh, thank God, the beer was making its way across the restaurant.
“I know no such thing.”
Gage looked at his friend and glared.
“Jesus, look at you.” Ryker shook his head. “Typical Gage.”
Now he really glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The server set his new beer down in front of him, and Gage immediately took a gulp.
Ryker leaned forward and propped his arms on the table. “If anything, you have the skill of keeping people the fuck away from you.”
Gage had to resist the urge to growl. “That’s not a skill.”
“It is the way you do it.” The server arrived with Ryker’s sandwich—and, yep, there was a mountain of free fries on the plate. Gage eyed everything with fervor while Ryker thanked her, and she walked away.
The very sight of it made Gage’s mouth water.
“I’m splitting this with you, aren’t I?”
“If I let you eat your half, it will be a miracle.”
Ryker sighed heavily, but he was smiling as he cut the sandwich in two. He plopped half of it right on top of Gage’s wilted salad, then promptly waited until Gage had a mouthful of brisket before speaking again. “So, are we going to discuss how you fuck people for a living—literally—because it’s a way you can keep them from fucking you, figuratively?”
Gage nearly choked. Bastard. “This sandwich is sacred, man,” Gage said with his mouth still full. How dare Ryker try to make him eat it faster.
“I know it is.” Ryker tapped his wristwatch. “I’ve got about thirty solid seconds of free-talk time before you can disagree with me while you’re working on that bite.” He leaned forward. “So, listen up, Buttercup.”
Gage’s scowl seemed to do nothing to dissuade him.
“Our childhood was rough. As kids, we saw a side of humanity that we shouldn’t have had to see until we were older. If ever. We learned how to survive, but sometimes our method of survival isn’t healthy.” He gave Gage a pointed look. “Like when you keep every single person you encounter a solid dick’s length away.”
“Hey,” Gage said around his bite.
“It’s true and you know it.” Ryker’s eyes softened. “Gage, that’s not sustainable. Aren’t you tired?”
Gage couldn’t even shake his head with Ryker’s words pinging around in it like an air hockey puck. Just what the fuck was going on here?
Ryker wasn’t done. “And you’ve got plenty of skills. Off the top of my head, you’re a motherfucking wizard with numbers. Don’t pretend you haven’t calculated the caloric intake of that sandwich and your two beers, along with the grams of carbs, fat, and protein, and how long you’ll have to spend in the gym to work it off. And don’t pretend you didn’t do it in about two seconds flat.”
Gage’s sandwich turned into a lump in his mouth.
“And, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Your physique puts fitness models to shame. If you don’t think that takes skill and dedication, you’re fooling yourself.”
Gage reached for his beer and took a sip, finally able to swallow his bite. “Those things don’t matter,” he said hoarsely.
Ryker cocked an eyebrow. “Tell that to the hundreds of thousands of people who pour money into the diet and fitness industry every year, yearning to look just like you do.” Ryker jabbed a finger Gage’s direction. “The same skills we use in a bedroom with women—boosting self-confidence, making them feel good about themselves, giving them hope—those absolutely transfer. Into practically everything.” Ryker lowered his voice. “It’s called being a kind, decent human being. And it’s a skill that not a lot of people possess. As you and I both know very well.”
Gage swallowed, something dangerous, like hope, beginning to fill his chest. “Cassidy’s a kind, decent human being,” he heard himself say. “In a class I could never hope to compare to.” The things she was doing to make her voice heard in her profession inspired him on a daily basis. She was going to make a difference. But him?
“I find that hard to believe, but, Gage, if that’s true”—Ryker raised his eyebrows—“you just change whatever you have to. Get in that same class.”
Gage reached for another bite of his sandwich, his throat uncomfortably tight. “You’re a good friend, you know that?” he managed to say.
Ryker smiled. “I’m a good everything.”
Gage saluted him with his sandwich and took another bite. He needed to do something with his mouth pronto or more confessions would come spilling out, and wouldn’t that just be pathetic.
Ryker’s attention drifted to a spot over Gage’s shoulder, and his smile softened. “Well, if that isn’t the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.”
Gage cast a glance over his shoulder and immediately stiffened.
Cassidy’s here.
Feelings entirely unfamiliar to him filled him from his feet to the top of his head. He whipped back around, swallowing quickly and pointing at his friend. “Don’t you look at her like that.”
Ryker’s eyes widened along with his grin. “Is that Cassidy?”
Gage leaned back, relaxing suddenly. Her presence put him at ease for the first time since he’d put his butt in this seat. “On second thought, tell her she’s cute and little. I dare you.”
“Oh, she’s like that, is she?”
“She’s like more than you could ever imagine,” Gage said softly, feeling Cassidy drawing closer.
“Wow, you’ve got it bad.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Cassidy flopped down beside Gage in the booth. “Hey, guys.”
In a sudden flare of panic, Gage realized he was introducing Cassidy to Ryker. The man who made women lust after him with a mere glance.
Gage studied Cassidy as she glanced at Ryker. “I’m Cassidy,” she said, with no double take whatsoever.
The tension in Gage’s chest loosened.
“And I’m Ryker. Nice to meet you.” No hint of his accent.
Gage relaxed completely. Damn, caring about someone was exhausting.
Cassidy jerked her chin at Ryker’s plate. “Is that the brisket sandwich?”
With a chuckle, he pushed it across the table toward her then caught the server’s attention, which just so happened to have been already glued to him. She rushed right over.
“We’re going to need another brisket sandwich, please. And, Cassidy, what are you drinking?”
She wrinkled her nose, and right away, Gage could see Ryker found it just as endearing as he did. “Do you have Guinness on tap?” she asked.
The server nodded.
“Great,” Ryker said. “Two pints, please.” He turned his attention back to Cassidy. “I’ll join you.”
During the entire interaction, Ryker had spoken plainly, and Gage knew it was out of respect. His friend was showing them the side he showed very few. The server hadn’t even noticed the difference.
Ryker leaned back. “So, Cassidy.” He grinned. “What a pleasure to meet Gage’s only other friend.”
Gage lifted his beer to his lips. “Prick,” he muttered before taking a sip.
“Huh, there are two of us?” Cassidy cocked her head. “It’s starting to get crowded in this club.”
“We can share membership,” Ryker said. “That’s okay with me.”
Cassidy wrinkled her nose again. “Damn, I was ready to arm wrestle you for it.”
Ryker’s grin widened. Cassidy had passed some kind of test, apparently.
The server returned, setting a pint of dark brown brew in front of each of them. Ryker nodded his thanks to the server and picked up his glass. “To new friends.” He extended it toward Cassidy.
Cassidy cocked a brow. “Slow down, speed racer. To new people.”
Ryker canted his head, and Cassidy clinked her glass against his. They both took a drink, then Cassidy reached for the sandwich Ryker had surrendered to her and took a bite.
Ryker looked her over, an expression of fondness covering his face. It made Gage’s throat tight. His foster brother was likely to spew uncomfortable truths at any moment.
“So, Cassidy here works in the gaming industry,” Gage blurted. His voice had been incredibly loud.
Cassidy paused her chewing and raised an eyebrow at him.
Interest lit Ryker’s face. “Do you? In what capacity?”
Cassidy held up one finger while she finished her bite. “All of them. Writing, coding, concept sketching.”
Genuine respect crossed Ryker’s face. He flashed Gage a brief, approving smile while Cassidy took a drink of her beer.
Gage smirked. I told you she was incredible.
Ryker gave him a return expression that clearly restated his Wow, you’ve got it bad opinion. Gage flipped him the bird.
“So, what do you do, Ryker?” Cassidy asked.
Gage felt his shoulders tighten, but Ryker just shrugged easily. “Same thing Gage does.”
“Oh.” Cassidy set her sandwich down. “Cool.”
Gage frowned. There was something off in Cassidy’s voice. Beneath the table, he spread a palm over her knee and gave it a soft squeeze. She looked at him and produced a tight smile.
Ryker cleared his throat, and both Cassidy and Gage jumped in their seats. Huh. I wonder how long we’d been staring at each other?
“I’m going to hit the john.” Ryker slid out of the booth. “Be right back.” He gave a pointed look Gage’s way, making it more than obvious that he was giving them a moment alone. Which meant he’d picked up on Cassidy’s mood shift, too.
As soon as he walked away, Cassidy sighed and leaned into Gage, resting her head on his shoulder.
A lump formed in Gage’s throat. He rested his cheek against her hair. “You okay?”
She shook her head once, and Gage knew that simple admission had taken a lot of effort. “Rough day.” She pressed her nose against his T-shirt and inhaled, then straightened, meeting his gaze. “Does he know about . . . last night?”
Was this why she was a dimmer version of herself? He shook his head. “It’s not mine to tell, so I didn’t. If you want me to, though, I can as soon as he comes back.”
“Not yours to tell,” Cassidy repeated in a dead voice.
“Not that it’s anything you should be ashamed of or anything,” he tacked on quickly. “You were the victim of a crime. None of that is on you. I just didn’t want to tell him without your permission.”
She frowned and blinked down at her Guinness.
Was she going to cry? His chest felt like it could rip open. “Ah, fuck, I messed up, didn’t I?” Damn it, of course she would want to talk about what had happened to her last night. That was the whole purpose of inviting her out here. He should have told Ryker right away. Filled him in. Ryker was so good with people, he’d have known just what to say to help her through this—
“I’m back.” Ryker slid into the booth, took one look at the both of them, and reached for his wallet. “But I have to jet. Sorry, kids. Fun’s fun and all, but . . . ”
Cassidy sniffed and raised her head. “It was great to meet you, Ryker.”
He stood and smiled down at her. “Same here.” He jerked his head toward the exit. “Walk me to the door, Gage. I have one last item of business to talk about.”
Gage frowned. “Okay.”
Cassidy let him out of the booth and then sat down again, taking another sip of her beer.
As Ryker and Gage walked toward the front of the restaurant, Gage asked, “So, Cassidy’s pretty great, huh?”
“She’s pretty great.” Ryker nodded his head, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Just . . . be careful, okay? You aren’t as tough as you pretend to be.”
Gage skidded to a stop right beside the server station. “The hell you say?”
“Gage,” Ryker grabbed his elbow and pulled him out of the line of traffic, “you’re so set on insisting that you don’t give a fuck about anything or anybody, but it’s just not true. At best, you’re a carefully crafted rebel.” He gestured toward Gage’s motorcycle boots and jacket. “And even that’s tenuous.”
Gage’s cheeks heated. Like he might be blushing or something, but that wasn’t even possible. He forced a laugh that limped awkwardly from his lips, about a complete octave too high to sound normal. “Very funny.”
Ryker’s warm eyes tightened at the corners, and a corresponding tug cinched in Gage’s chest.
“Look, I’ve got to get back to Cassidy.”
Ryker’s fingers tightened on Gage’s elbow. “About that. I can’t help but feel she’s hiding something. I could be wrong or it could be nothing, but I think you should talk to her about it. Before you get in any deeper than you have.”
Gage’s brows drew together then immediately relaxed. “Well, she is hiding something.”
Ryker’s head snapped up.
“Nothing major,” Gage said quickly. “Something happened to her last night. You know what, I still don’t have her permission to tell you about it, so that’s all I’ll say. But, the impression you’re getting—that’s why.”
Ryker frowned. “Hmm.”
Hmm? “What’s that supposed to mean?” Gage’s voice had an edge to it.
“Just be careful.” Ryker’s gaze sharpened. “Promise me.”
Gage had the overwhelming urge to tell him to mind his own business or shut the fuck up or that he didn’t know what he was talking about. The urge in and of itself stopped him cold. This was Ryker he was talking to. There wasn’t a person in the world he trusted more.
Gage sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “When am I not careful?”
Ryker nodded. “See you around.”
“Yep.”
Without another word, Ryker turned and left the restaurant, leaving Gage behind amid a flurry of more unwelcome feelings.
Gritting his teeth, Gage made his way back to the booth. Cassidy was sitting just where he’d left her, staring despondently at a box that hadn’t been there when he’d left. He touched her shoulder, and she jumped.
“Jesus.” He could kick his own ass. “I’m so sorry. Shouldn’t have been so quiet.” Sneaking up on a woman who had been attacked the night before? Fucking genius, that’s what he was.
Cassidy nodded toward the box. “Ryker’s sandwich.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “He left because of me, didn’t he?”
Gage reached down and brushed his thumb along her cheek before dropping his hand to his side again. The most he’d ever affectionately touched a woman in public in his life. “No.”
“Liar.” She’d been smiling, but it turned into a wince as soon as the word left her mouth.
He sank into the booth next to her. “Hey, Freckles.” He wanted to reach for her. Wrap his arms around her. “You’re worrying me here.”
She met his gaze. “Take me home?” She licked her lips, and his gaze narrowed in on it like a beacon. “Please?”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. Throwing enough bills on the table to cover the tab, he grabbed Ryker’s sandwich with one hand—no use letting it go to waste—and Cassidy’s hand with the other, tugging her to her feet.
He led her through the restaurant and outside to the parking garage, spotting her little car right away. “I’m going to be right behind you, okay?” He meant that literally. His tire was going to be a breath away from her bumper all the way to their apartment complexes.
She nodded.
Before she could slip into her seat, Gage caught her chin in the crook of his finger. “Hey.” He waited until her gaze met his. “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
Her eyes darkened. “You can’t promise that.”
“Well, I just did.”
Her lips quirked the slightest bit, and he pressed a quick kiss to them before releasing her. “In you go,” he said, jerking his chin toward her car. He handed her the sandwich, closed her in, and jogged over to his bike.
When he got Cassidy home, he was going to make those worried looks disappear. Any way he could. And he had a lot of tricks up his sleeve.