Page 119 of Falling in Reverse

“Going to the bathroom. Did Torin call you to come rescue him or something?”

“Noooo, I just happened to run into you myself. Lucky night, I guess.”

I turn my head and Reeve catches my chin, his thumb running once down my jawline. His touch sparks excitement and a whole lot of rebellion in my blood. It wants me to say fuck Torin, his brother, and let me take Reeve for a ride.

Stupid idea.

Still sounds like a whole lotta fun, though.

“You know you walked into the lion’s den, right?” My eyes meet his again and he’s serious.

Honestly, I wouldn’t doubt if he was. Minus all the bullshit between me and his friends, he seems like the mellowest guy of the bunch and the one to give it to me straight.

I roll my eyes against his warning, no matter how true it is. I don’t belong here. “I was invited.”

“I know. So what, pray tell, does that motherfucker have on you to step into a place that you have a very good possibility of not walkin’ out of?”

“Nothing that I can’t handle.”

That’s obviously a lie.

“You don’t trust me.”

My brows ascend to the ceiling. “Now you’re getting it.”

The new pain in the ass bends his arms so that he can get closer and rest his elbows along the drywall. “Did you hit your head or something, or are you suddenly suicidal? ’Cause if you are, baby McQueen, let me know and I’ll pep you up real quick.”

“What does that include, exactly?”

“Not a butcher knife sticking out of your gut while I fuck you,” he quips lightly. “That’s how Ramsey likes it. Torin would bend you over and slam his small dick into you and be selfish out it. I was thinking more”—his fingers trail down to my collarbone and slide down the side of my ribs—“your legs wrapped tightly around my head.”

My stomach somersaults at the thought of gripping his pretty face between my thighs while he licks and nips my—stop.

I place my hand on his hard chest to keep him where he is. “I don’t think your boss would like you fraternizing with the enemy.”

“My boss being…”

“Torin.”

Reeve chortles again, a deep amusement lacing in each exhale of the rhythm. “Torin is definitely not my fuckin’ boss. Have you walked around thinking I was his associate or servant this whole time?”

“I—” Reeve’s chest presses hard into mine, sandwiching me and my exhale to not happen.

I can’t say I don’t like the feel of him. I’m also unable to lie to myself and convince my head that he’s not attractive and kinda sweet in his own cocky, self-assured way.

Still not an option.

And I don’t want him within the crossfires of what I already have going on with Torin and Cairo. Two dudes I’ve equally pissed off.

“You’ve heard that Torin runs the Forsaken Crew,” he mutters over me before his hand finds my hip and he squeezes. “But he doesn’t. Or I should say, he doesn’t do it alone. Cairo’s daddy created the crew and all of us street urchins just flocked to it. We run the Forsaken Crew as a unit. I’m just as powerful and as much of an asshole as he is, but I tend to direct it to people who show me they deserve it. So…from here, it looks like the South Shore girl wants The Landings.”

“I never said I wanted anything.”

“But you’re here.”

Because Emilio sent me a threatening picture of my little sister, you fuck.

“You’re playing a dangerous game of chess if you think you’re going to fuck both crews, McQueen. Those consequences are gonna hurt.” He bends closer, smelling of the ocean, so smooth and therapeutic, that it’s definitely welcomed. His cheek brushes mine, sending a cool chill down my body and to my toes when he whispers, “You shot Torin…what do you think is going to happen when you keep putting yourself in the wrong spot?”

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