Page 51 of Whirlwind

A faint smile tugs at Ryker’s lips, and he leads me away from the floor. I don’t know where he’s taking us. A small part of me screams at the rest of me not to follow him, that being alone with him when we clearly can’t stop staring and touching each other like horny, angsty people is a bad idea. But his voice sounded so—pained.

His hand grips mine tighter as we weave through more people, some drunk, some laughing. I quickly scan the bar area for Joey, and when I find him, I can’t help but smile. He’s there with Hawk, their bodies close together as Hawk laughs at something he says.

As if Joey knows I’m looking, he glances up and sees Ryker pulling me away. He waggles his eyebrows like he loves to do, and I imagine if I was next to him, he’d say something like “don’t forget to use protection.”

He’d been bothering me all night while we were dancing, telling me that Ryker couldn’t stop looking at my ass and that there’s no way the man only wanted to be friends. It’s probablywhy I’d been inclined to let Ryker dance with me and now talk with me. Joey softened me up, the menace.

The sounds of people and music fade as we enter a back hallway that leads to the bathrooms. At first, I think he’s going to take me into one, but then he keeps tugging me further down the dark corridor. Eventually, he comes to an emergency exit, but that doesn’t stop him. He pushes open the door as I’m about to protest, but thankfully, no alarm sounds.

The warm evening air hits with the sound of crickets chirping in the field behind the building. I suck in a long breath, and Ryker turns to me as the door closes behind us. We stand there for a moment, the dim lights from the side of the building illuminating his masculine features and serious face. We’re alone out here, and I can hardly hear the music or the patrons inside from where we are. Ryker lifts one of his hands like he wants to touch me again, but then he sticks them both in his pockets.

“I’ve really fucked up with you, Finley.”

I sigh. “We already had a conversation about us.”

“No, I—” He looks up at the dark sky and releases a breath before returning his gaze to mine. “I shouldn’t have told you I regret what happened.”

Okay, maybe now my heart has stopped in my chest. Is this what he meant when he said he was an idiot?

“What?” I ask. “What do you mean?”

He takes a small step forward, and when I don’t recede, he takes another one so we’re sharing the same air.

“I don’t regret what happened between us. At least, not in the way I made you believe.”

Maybe Idoneed a defibrillator. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because when I saw you in there, saw another man touching you, I—”

“No,” I snap. “You don’t get to do that.”

“Finley,I—”

“You told me you regretted me. That you regretted us. You don’t get to take it back now because you’re jealous.”

“Please, let me finish.”

“I don’t know if you deserve that.”

“I don’t!” he shouts before lowering his voice. “I don’t. But I’m begging you, please. I made a mistake.”

“A mistake? Or are you just being selfish now?”

He inhales a sharp breath, and it’s then I realize that we’re not only sharing the same air, the same space, but his body is touching mine again. How do we keep gravitating toward each other like this? And did he move or did I? Did we both?

“I am being selfish, I know that,” he says. “And I won’t deny that watching Joey flirt with you all day and seeing the way all those men looked at you in there makes me want to pull you close and never let go. But the moment I lied, I knew it was a mistake. I don’t regret us, Finley. I can’t regret you.”

I let his words sink in for a moment. My heart beats slowly in my chest now. “Then why did you say it?”

“Because I was a coward. I was worried about my job. More importantly, I was worried about what the implications of a relationship with you would mean foryou. I know that part of me was right to think that, because you thought I picked you for this chase because I like you, not because you’re the most qualified.”

“I really only felt that way afterward. I didn’t question it until yesterday.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve been an idiot, I admit that. Please, Finley, I’m so sorry. Tell me what to do so you’ll forgive me.”

“Is that all you want? My forgiveness so you can clear your conscience or something?”

He shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I wantyou. I was an idiot to try to convince myself otherwise, because I do want you. I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time—and I have since the moment you walked into my classroom.”

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