Page 35 of The Liar's Reckoning

“When’s your next client?” I ask, not sure I’ll be able to move in less than five minutes.

“You’re it for tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm.”

My mind spins through ways I could use that knowledge to my advantage. Would he want to get dinner? No, he would probably laugh if I asked, and I’m sure he has better things to do. Still…I get the distinct impression there’s a ball in my court I’m supposed to do something with. “Plans tonight?” I ask, keeping it vague.

“Nah. You?”

“Avery’s out. I’ll probably order in and watch a movie.”

“I’m gonna hit the shower,” he says.

I close my eyes, luxuriating in the image of water cascading over his tan, ripped, naked body. My dick thickens, but I have it tucked up, so he shouldn’t be able to tell even if he is looking, which I’ve noticed him doing twenty-six times in the last fifty minutes. I counted. And those are only the times I caught.

His interest is a huge turn on. It makes me think he was serious this morning—about wanting to suck me off. How I could make that a reality is beyond any skill set I possess, so he’ll need to make the move. Anything I try would probably come out sounding either painfully awkward or really sleazy. “Mind if I join you?” is not a phrase I can imagine myself uttering aloud.

I may or may not order in, but I won’t be watching a movie. It’ll be a steady stream of porn from my tablet in bed just like any other evening Avery is out. I’m useless on my own after sundown. Everything I’ve repressed during the day—during my life, surges up like demons I have to beat back into my soul. Instead of reading non-fiction to put myself to sleep, I find myself downloading gay novellas—the erotic kind—and letting myself live vicariously through the characters discovering their sexuality and finding their soulmates.

“Need help getting up?” he asks.

I reach up without thinking, and his hand clasps mine. I let him help pull me to my feet, winding up nearly chest to chest with him. I’m soaked with sweat in various stages of drying, but he’s practically pristine. I can smell his body wash just as strongly now as I could when I arrived. “You really need a shower?” I ask.

“I was hoping you might join me,” he says in a low voice.

Why does it sound so perfect whenhesays it?

“I have a nice shower at home,” I say like an idiot.

He shakes his head slightly. “That doesn’t sound like an invitation.”

“What’s gotten into you today?” I ask.

The murmured sexy spell breaks, and he takes half a step away from me. “Nothing. But do me a favor and let me run on my own from now on.”

“Hey,” I say sharply—quickly. Then I lower my voice. “I don’t do subtext well. And I’m no hook-up expert. Is that what you’re proposing? Be blunt.”

“I thought I was this morning,” he says under his breath.

“I’m not a mind reader, Silas.”

“No, you’re fucking clueless, aren’t you?”

That’s the second time he’s said that to me, which means it’s my turn to back away. I think I understand that he doesn’t like me. I also think he’s attracted to me, but he might be attracted to a lot of men. What I don’t understand is why he won’t let me in even an inch. I’m not asking for some illicit affair or even a sexual favor or two. He’s the one asking if I want to join him in the showers—whatever the fuckthatmeans. But if all he can do is sneer at me when I don’t leap at the chance to get athlete’s foot, then I’ve got nothing left to say.

I grab my water, towel, phone, and keys.

“Hey,” he says, but I keep moving.

“Hey!”

I hold up a hand as I walk to the door of the gym, shutting him down. The cold air hits me like a slap when I step outside, instantly freezing what was left of my sweat. I shiver hard and hurry up the street to my building. I left my jacket at the gym, but I don’t give a damn. My cheeks heat with slow-growing humiliation. By the time I’m in the lobby and the doorman is calling the elevator, I’m burning up inside.

I got on my knees for him today. In public. Anyone could have seen. There could be video. While no one might have been able to tell it was me when my face was smashed against his pelvis, I pulled away eventually. I stood up, turned around, and came up for air.

I don’t need a fucking personal trainer.Sorry in advance, Avery.And I don’t need a man like Silas anywhere near my life. He’s basically a prostitute. And he’s gay. It’s likely that any association with him could come back to bite me. I don’t mind that he’s the doorman, I can ignore him easily enough here, but I certainly don’t need to be throwing myself in his path, even if the universe somehow seems to want me to. Surely, I was mistaken by seeing any sort of sign in what really is a series of unfortunate coincidences.

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