Page 18 of Perfect Boy

“The restroom thing—why did you say that?” I raise an eyebrow, pushing the issue further even though I know the smart thing to do would be to drop it.

“Because I needed him to know that you’re no longer his.” He swallows. “Without beating the shit out of him like I wanted to.” Releasing me, he leans forward and kisses my hair. “I’m going to go before I do something else that I’m not supposed to do. Have a good night, Ryann. See you at practice.”

I stand there, wondering what exactly he meant. And as he slowly backs away, I feel my body instantly cool down. A magnetic force makes me want to follow him, but I don’t. And as crazy and annoying as it is…I know I’m about to go home and imagine Watson Gentry banging me in the restroom.

And I’m going to carry those images in my head for a long dang time.

Watson

I might have said good night to Ryann, but I’m certainly not going to leave Club 83 with Denton hanging around, waiting to bother her again. So, here I sit, in the corner of the bar, watching over her like a fucking weirdo.

I don’t think he’s the type that would physically hurt her. But then again, how can I know for sure? I’ve only ever seen him around at parties, and I didn’t know he was a fucking wack job, like he’s proven to be the past week. So, either way, I’m going to make sure she gets home safely. A big part of me wants to go find him and beat him senseless. What Ryann doesn’t witness can’t hurt her. Right?

Wrong. She’d probably find out and be mad at me. And right now, all I want is for her to agree to spend some time with me. If I go pissin’ her off, that’ll never happen.

“Stop fucking Ryann Denver with your eyes, would you?” Walker James says, sitting in the seat next to me. The bartender instantly slides him a beer without him even asking. Sipping it, he tips it toward me. “It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“You’re making me uncomfortable, James,” I mutter, moving my eyes from Ryann just long enough to send him a glare.

“Stay away from those damn ballerinas. They are nothing but trouble,” he grumbles, taking another pull from his beer. “Trust me. Been there; done that.”

“Word around campus is, you’ve been there and done that to most of the female population.” I laugh. “Not sure you’re the man I want to take advice from.”

“You can’t believe everything you hear, Gentry,” he mutters, looking toward the group of girls Ryann is with.

From where I’m sitting, I can’t tell which chick his eyes are on. But he seems distracted by whoever it is. As long as it’s not Ryann, I don’t really give a fuck.

“James, are you checking out Ryann?” I mumble, moving closer to him. “And if you are, I advise you to stop. Now.”

Looking back at me, he gives me a slight grin. “Nah, Gentry. You’re safe. I don’t want your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.” I watch her as she laughs with her friends. “Well, not yet anyway.”

Walker says something back, but I don’t hear what it is. I just gaze at Ryann as she hugs one of her friends good-bye and heads toward the door with a chick that I don’t know.

Sliding from my stool, I clasp Walker on the shoulder. “Good game tonight, brother. Keep it up.”

I head to the exit. Because she might not be my problem, but I’m going to treat her like she is anyway.

And that involves making sure her ex isn’t stalking her outside.

And checking that she gets home safely too.

8

Watson

If dancing with Ryann without every ounce of my blood pumping straight to my dick was hard before I kissed her, it’s really fucking tricky now. The other night at Club 83, I kissed her to make a point to her ex. But when she melted against me, slipping her tongue inside my mouth, damn, it took everything inside of me to stop. And then even more to not kiss her again and take her into that restroom like I wished I could.

Unfortunately for me, she’s made it extremely clear that she doesn’t want anything to do with me. But I’ll be a fucking dead man before I let fuckface Denton creep around her the way that he does. I’ll bury that motherfucker if I have to. Just as long as Ryann doesn’t see me do it, I couldn’t care less.

It was so hard to not drop him right there on the dance floor. Seeing him grab her the way that he did, whispering in her ear when it was clear she didn’t want him to. I saw the panic in her eyes when she heard his voice. I felt it inside of me, just watching her. How the two of them ever dated, I don’t know. He’s not good enough to breathe the same air as her. Let alone to have ever had the privilege of calling her his girl.

If she were my girl, she’d never have that look of sadness in her eyes again. I’d dedicate my life just to make sure of that. But that will never happen because a douchebag like Denton Wells ruined her for anyone else. And now, she thinks we’re all like him. But I’m not going to let that stop me from still showing her how special she is. Even if she refuses to believe me.

Kissing her was great in the moment. But when it was over, I wanted more.

And now, here we are, dancing to the slow beat of the music. Her ass accidentally grazes against my cock every now and then, making me suck in a breath and mentally tell myself not to get hard.

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