Page 70 of Reluctantly You

“Fine,” I manage to say, and he looks pleased at my response. Something inside of me rebels at that, but another small ember bursts into light, glowing warmly.

A beer bottle is slid up next to my hands, and I fiddle with it as I watch Gideon sip on an amber colored whiskey.

“Thank you,” I manage to say, trying to behave like a mature adult and not some whimpering, rude child.

“You’re welcome,” he replies as he swallows slowly. My eyes flick to his Adam’s apple, and I feel that ember glow.

Fuck.

He nods toward an empty standing table, and I move with him, letting him place his hand on my arm to guide me. It’s not needed, but part of me knows there’s a chance I may run. He wants me to stay and face what happened like a man.

As I take another long, fizzy swallow of my drink, Rory comes bounding up, his hair hanging in his eyes, sweat lining his pale skin.

“Hi!” He beams as he throws his arms around Gideon and squeezes tightly. Something inside of me burns. No matter what Gideon’s told me, I can see the adoration they have for one another.

What’s their story? What made them so inseparable?

I don’t know if I want to know.

Rory turns his violet eyes on me and then his grin softens. He holds out his hand, a simple handshake, and I can’t help but slide my palm against his.

“Hi, Mitch,” he says, and I nod back at him, once more unable to find the words.

If he only knew what kind of man I’ve been, what kind of man I am, he wouldn’t be so kind. He’d discard me and never speak to me again.

Just like everyone else.

My chest clenches, and I rub at it.

“You okay?” Gideon asks Rory, who nods.

“I am. I’m having so much fun. Thanks for coming here with me. It’s so—” he adds, some of his words melding into the overwhelming music pumping from the speakers.

Gideon squeezes his shoulder and his eyes meet mine.

I glance away quickly, letting them have their moment, not wanting to intrude even more than I already have. Rory whispers something into Gideon’s ear and then prances back onto the dancefloor, his hips swaying perfectly to the music.

“Rory has some trust issues in places like this,” Gideon explains, again so fucking close. “It’s why I’m here with him. To watch over him until he’s ready to leave.”

“I didn’t ask,” I reply, and Gideon scoffs, taking another sip of his drink.

“You didn’t, but I could see the question in your eyes all the same.”

I hate that he can read me so well. That he seems to know me better than I know myself.

Suddenly, I want to run, want to disappear and never come back, but Gideon grabs on to my forearm tightly and squeezes.

“Wetalkabout it.”

My eyes narrow, and his lips thin. He knows. He can see it. The chaos roiling inside of me.

I glance away and chug my beer, swiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Gideon steps a little closer, crowding me, and I feel my skin alight at his nearness. My hole clenches around nothing, still wet from earlier and…fuck, there goes my cock. I want him to do it again.

And again.

I know that when I try and slide my finger inside, it won’t feel the same. It won’t be nearly as good.

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