The Love Series Complete Box Set (178 page)

It all makes sense. The closeness and the playful ribbing I saw going on between the two of them. While I’m laughing at myself for misreading the situation, I notice one major omission on Dylan’s part.

Assuming Dylan is with Reid means that I’ve also presumed he’s gay. I won’t lie; there is something about him that calls to me on a basic level, something that maybe I initially misread as a need to hook up, but maybe it’s something more.

As I’m working all of this out in my head, I also realize that while Dylan has denied being with Reid, he’s not denied the possibility of him being with another man.

“Really working something out in there, huh?” Dylan points lamely at my head.

“No, not really. Just feeling like a jerk for making an assumption that’s all.” Dylan looks like he wants me to say more, but I’ve already said too much, made too much of a fool out of myself for one night.

He hears the coolness of my words, can tell there’s a dismissal hidden there and he walks back through the gym and into the locker room.

By the time he comes back out, I’m all ready to lock up and head home. We walk out the door together. I turn left to the small lot where I parked earlier, leaving the larger lot open for the swarm of customers I’d hoped would have shown up today.

Dylan walks the other way, nodding a silent goodbye.

I’m just going to go ahead and blame my stupidity on my exhaustion. Me, of all people, should know better than to assume that someone’s gay, to call them out on it without knowing for sure.

That’s something that has nearly gotten me into trouble on more than a few occasions.

Trying to erase those memories from my already-screwed-up-beyond-belief head, I start my car and pull to the front of the gym. Dylan’s still there, leaning up against the wall of windows in the front.

I pull up to the curb and push the button to lower the passenger’s side window. Wrongful assumptions aside, I can’t let him sit here by himself. Sure, he’s a grown man, but he’s hurt. “Can I give you a lift?”

Dylan picks his head up from his phone, looking tired and beat up. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m sure I’ll get a cab company soon enough.”

I should pull away. I should let him figure it out on his own. I don’t owe him anything, and he sure as hell doesn’t owe me anything, but I feel obligated somehow.

Or maybe it’s that I feel like I need to know more about him.

“Come on. Don’t be ridiculous. Let me give you a lift. It’s the least I can do for assuming you were gay.”

Dylan combs his good hand through his hair before bending down and scooping up his bag. I hit the button to unlock his door and feel marginally better that he’ll at least let me do this for him.

He gets in the car and, with his arm still in the sling, gawkily pulls the seatbelt across his lap. When he’s situated and facing forward, he kicks his gym bag with his feet, making room for his long legs. As I shift the car into drive and pull away from the curb, Dylan keeps his eyes focused on the road ahead of us.

Without even looking over at me, he says, “Who said your assumption was wrong?”

Chapter Sixteen

May 21, 2015

Shifting in my seat, I look at the gorgeous man sitting next to me. But rather than garnering any reaction out of Conner, my words almost have a non-effect on him. He simply keeps his eyes on the road. His hands, however, are in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “I−well, I just−it’s . . .” he stutters as he attempts to recover.

“Are you?” I’m not sure what’s come over me. My attraction to him? Gay or straight, the man is gorgeous.

“Now, who’s assuming things?” He lifts an eyebrow.

“Not assuming, just curious.” Though, if I’m being honest, there’s no way he’s not at least a little into me. It’s in his voice, vibrating in the space between us. It’s in his eyes, staring straight through me.

“Yeah, I am,” he answers with no shame or desire to hide anything in his words.

Nodding, I turn back to face the road, letting the last five minutes replay in my head, looking for anything that will help me figure out what the hell just happened.

“Where are we going?” Conner’s voice cuts through the end of a song.

It takes me a few seconds to realize he’s asking for directions. I start to give him directions to my apartment when I remember that my car is still at work. Reid really screwed me over good, but I think he knew exactly what he was doing. The jerk.

“I need to pick up my car, actually.” Listing off a few more directions, we head toward the office. When a sharp turn launches me against the door, my arm burns in pain.

A car whizzes past us, tires screeching, and horns honking. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. That car came out of nowhere.” Conner apologizes as my arm throbs painfully.

“Maybe you driving home isn’t such a good idea,” he suggests as we pull into the lot where my cars is sitting all by itself.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I add as I rub my arm. “Your driving is no safer.” I dismiss his concerns even though they mirror some of my own. It’s doubtful I’ll be able to turn the car at all with my right arm completely immobilized.

With the strap of my gym bag looped through my good arm, I reach over to open the door. Conner’s hand on my shoulder stops me dead in my tracks. “Don’t be an ass. You can barely open the door. Let me drive you home. I’d feel like a jerk if something happened to you.”

The way his hand feels on my arm tells me all I need to know; I need to stay away from him. There’s something happening between us that’s making me loose-lipped. The truth just falls from my mouth and that’s not something I’m entirely comfortable with.

“Seriously, Dylan, just let me drive you home,” he insists and, for whatever reason, I give in.

“Fine, but I need to grab some files from my car.” Since my job pretty much dictates my life, I’m always bringing home work. It’s better than sitting there having nothing to do.

Conner nods, a satisfied smile gracing his face as he plays around with the radio. After grabbing my briefcase from the passenger’s seat, I open the back door and stare down at the box sitting on the seat. There’s no way in hell I can get this on my own, but I don’t want to give Conner the satisfaction of needing his help.

Squatting as low as my sore legs will let me, I pull the box across the seat and try to wedge it between my arm and my leg. I have to shimmy it up my body until it rests precariously on my hip. With my briefcase dangling from my finger, and the box near falling from the rest of my hand, I try my best to walk back to Conner’s car. He’s sitting there, tapping away absentmindedly to the beat of the music as the box falls from my hand and spills across the parking lot.

“Shit,” I curse as the papers scatter everywhere.

Conner gets out of the car, bending to pick up a few files on his way over to me. “Here you go.” His words carry no sarcasm at the fact that I was so self-assured just moments ago.

After I’ve got all the papers back in the box, he carries it back to his car, not even allowing me the chance to say I’ll do it myself.

My mood is pissy to say the least for the short drive to my apartment complex. Conner’s misunderstanding of my relationship with Reid got under my skin. His confusion about it makes me wonder if he’s interested in me. But, on the other hand, why should I care if he is?

Because you’re interested in him,
I admit to myself. It is the reason I went back to the gym in the first place.

Hell, it’s impossible not to be interested. His body looks like it’s carved from stone. When I first saw him last week, even though it was only for a few seconds, it took way too much effort for me to peel my eyes away from him. Then, when I went back to the gym tonight, I hadn’t hoped to do more than steal a few casual glances. You can’t assume every good-looking man you see is gay. That shit gets you into trouble real quick.

But now knowing that he is, well that changes things. The initial attraction I felt has now moved into a completely different sphere. If I act on the attraction, then it can’t be anything other than just sex.

That’s all I’m capable of right now. Hell, it might be all I’m ever capable of.

We pull into the parking lot, and I point him in the direction of my building. He parks in the spot that’s assigned to me and cuts the engine.

“Thanks.” My single worded good-bye is cool and detached. As I move to get out of the car, he asks, “Are you upstairs or ground-level?”

“Second floor. Why?” I turn in my seat to face him before opening the door.

“You couldn’t walk more than two steps without dropping everything before. Now, you’re just magically going to be able to carry your bag, briefcase and a box up a flight of stairs. Oh, wait, and you’re going to dig your keys out of your pocket and open the door at the same time.” He crosses his arms over his chest, stifling a cynical laugh. “This is gonna be good.”

He shoots me a wry look when I ask, “Did you want to get them out of my pocket for me?”

Though I want to laugh at the look he’s giving me, calculating through it all, I can’t deny that he’s right. There’s no way I can get upstairs on my own. I pull my keys out of my pocket and dangle them in the space between us. “Fine,” I snip, shaking the keys back and forth a few times, waiting for him to take them from me.

He stares at the keys like they’re diseased or something. “I’m sorry, my hearing must be going,” he jokes, cupping a hand up to his ear. “I didn’t hear you say ‘please.’”

As if I wasn’t already in a mood, now I have to deal with him laying into me for my manners, for actually needing his help. After a long day of work, and now this shit with my arm, add in dealing with Conner, I’m exhausted. “Then, don’t help.” I move to get out of the car, denying him the chance to take the keys from me.

He shakes his head and slides out of his seat, walking around the front of the car to meet me on my side. Rather than immediately moving to help me, he watches me struggling with everything before finally conceding. “Give me that,” he mutters under his breath, taking my briefcase and bag from my hand. He lifts the box, tips his head to the sidewalk, letting me walk in front of him with my keys still in my hand.

I open the door and let him past me, before closing it behind us. What’s normally a cramped entryway, with my bike hanging on the wall, feels even smaller now with Conner standing there. The stairs are too narrow for us to walk up next to each other, so he lets me up first.

I lead the way down the hall to my door and unlock it. Conner stays out in the hall, waiting for me to step inside. “Thanks.” I lean against the door, holding it open for him. “You can just drop it wherever.”

Instead of chucking my stuff on the floor like I’d expected him to do, Conner walks straight into my dining room and puts the box and my briefcase on the table. He drops the gym bag on a chair and stands there, waiting for . . . I have no clue what the hell he’s waiting for.

“Thanks again.” I remain standing by the open door, clearly indicating that I’m not inviting him in.

He walks toward me, glancing at the pictures on the mantle as he does so. “Sure, no problem.”

When he’s gone, I finally feel like I can breathe again. Not wanting to pay too much attention to the fact that Conner has put me on edge, after popping a few Advil, I twist open a beer, flop down on the couch and get lost in a game.

When my phone rings and I see Reid’s name flash across the screen, I almost consider not answering it.

“Fucker,” I greet him. His only response is a loud laugh.

When he finally calms down enough to talk, he says, “Guess it didn’t work out for you. Otherwise you’d be too busy to pick up the phone, huh?”

I take a long pull from my beer, cradling the phone between my ear and my good shoulder. “I can’t believe you just left me there. My shoulder is really freaking screwed up, you know?” The end of my words trails off as the phone slides down onto my lap. I need another sip of my drink before I bother to pick it up.

I only catch the tail end of what Reid is saying as I bring the phone back up to my ear. “ . . . wasn’t into you? I thought I caught him staring a few times.”

I laugh. “What are you my gay wingman?”

“Nope. Just a straight guy trying to help out his gay best friend. Besides, I caught him checking you out.” His hand covering the mouthpiece muffles whatever he is saying to Maddy. “So no dice, I guess, huh?”

Reid is your typical guy’s guy in so many ways. Athletic, competitive, a real ass at times. But in so many ways, he’s not.

“He had to drive me home because you left me high and dry.” He laughs, completely pleased by his little plan. “But no, things didn’t work out this time.” I don’t even bother getting into how Conner got to me, how he affected me just by being nice to me, by being kind to me.

“Too, bad. He seems like a nice−”

I cut him off. “Look, my shoulder is pretty fucked. I don’t think I’m going to be in tomorrow. I have the Hernandez files with me. I’ll review them this weekend and fill you in on Tuesday before the session, okay?”

“Sure. But Dylan?” He pauses.