Page 84 of Searching for Valor

His cock perked up.

He groaned and leaned his forehead against the cool tile. “Down, boy,” he muttered, both to himself and his overeager appendage. It should be out of commission for at least twelve hours after last night, but he couldn’t seem to think about Izzy now without getting hard. The way she’d looked at him, touched him, whispered his name. The way her body had molded to his—it had felt like coming home after years adrift.

He grinned at the flood of memories.

Actually grinned.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this… content.

Yeah, they still had to talk about everything. But for the first time, he had hope they’d work things out. He had hope that there was still a future for them.

But first he had to deal with the current clusterfuck of a situation. And he couldn’t do it with a boner.

He turned the water to cold, hissing as it hit his skin, but the icy spray did its job. Clean and decidedly less horny, Rylan stepped out of the shower and toweled off. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and froze in shock.

Jesus.

He looked like hell.

His skin was a mosaic of old scars and new bruises. Dark circles rimmed his bloodshot eyes, and his face looked gaunt, almost haggard. He hadn’t kept up with his rigorous exercise routine and lost muscle mass. His thick, wavy hair was a tangled mess, and his beard had grown past the point of rugged into unkempt territory.

The past few months had clearly taken their toll.

And yet Izzy still wanted him.

“Enough of this shit,” he muttered and reached for the electric razor in the bathroom vanity. He’d let himself go for too long, wallowing in self-pity and anger. It was time to get his shit together.

As of this moment, he was back on the wagon.

He trimmed his beard, but decided against shaving it off completely. He’d liked the way Izzy had dragged her nails through it last night too much to get rid of it. He ran a comb through his hair, feeling more like himself with each swipe. He needed to get a haircut, but that would have to wait.

He studied himself in the mirror again. He couldn’t do anything about the scars or bruises or lost muscle mass right now, but he looked better.

Not great, but better.

More like the Rylan Cross he wanted to be.

Rylan dressed quickly, pulling on a clean pair of jeans and a dark blue henley. He laced up his boots and grabbed his keys, then headed back to the kitchen where Valor was licking his empty bowl.

“Ready to go, buddy?”

Valor’s tail wagged furiously as he trotted to the door, clearly eager to get out of the house.

“All right.” He sucked in a fortifying breath and headed toward the door. ”It’s past time to own up to my sins and do some apologizing.”

Other than Shane and Veronica, he hadn’t seen anyone else from the team since that morning in the hospital. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous and his hand trembled slightly as he reached for the door handle of his truck.

He paused. Valor nudged his leg with a questioning whine.

“I know. I’m stalling. It’s just… I’ve been such an ass lately. What if they don’t want me back?”

Valor tilted his head and rested a paw on Rylan’s leg in a silent,“You got this.”

Rylan chuckled and reached down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “Yeah, you’re right. Gotta face the music sometime.”

The drive to RWCR headquarters was both too short and agonizingly long. He wasn’t surprised to see all of their vehicles in the lot. With the attorney general targeting Ash, no doubt Zak was rallying the troops for war.

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