Page 28 of Crossing Lines

What the fuck do I do? We have to at least acknowledge each other.I held up my palm and gave him a weak wave, then faced the bar. What an imbecile I was. Now that he knew I was here, he’d probably turn around and leave. Which is probably what I should do too. This night was a bust.

“Hey, Jonah.” A warm hand landed on my shoulder.

I twisted toward his voice. “Hi, uh, Coach Gibson.” Pressingmy lips together, I snuck a peek at his gorgeous light-blue eyes. He totally did not look like a hockey coach right now. Jock, yes, but not the hockey coach I’d just seen at our game tonight.

“Who are you here with?” He looked around the bar.

“Ace and Mason.” I pointed toward the dancefloor. “They’re out there with some guys they’re probably going to hook up with tonight.” And here I was…alone. My gut clenched.

“Oh, okay. Well, see you around, eh?” He patted my back, then strolled off to the other side of the bar.

I watched his tight ass swaying in his jeans as he left, my heart aching in my chest.

With a grimace, I hung my head. Fuck, this was stupid. I couldn’t stay here knowing Ryan was here, knowing some guy was going to have him when I couldn’t. He made it very clear there was nothing between us. I lifted my head.

Owen strode across the bar and grabbed Ryan by the elbow. Leaning in, he tugged on him.

Ryan wriggled his arm, his back stiffening.

What the fuck? I glanced toward Ace. He’d see me if I went over there and needed him. The guy had the eyesight of a fucking hawk. Slamming down the rest of my beer, I left the bar, trudging across the floor toward Ryan and Owen.

Ryan slumped his shoulders, glanced around him, then nodded at Owen.

Dragging Ryan by the arm toward the restrooms in the hallway, a snide smile swept over Owen’s lips.

“That fucker.” Heat swarmed my chest. I was not going to let this happen, whatever it was. As I weaved through men, bumping a few of them and apologizing along the way, fixating on the entrance to the hallway.

I stomped around the corner.

Ryan’s chest was pinned against the wall, his legs spread, yelling, “Stop!”

“No one ditches me like that,” Owen snarled. With his armacross the back of Ryan’s neck, he fell in close and ripped at Ryan’s fly.

I growled, “Get the fuck off him.” Seeing red, I tore Owen from Ryan and threw him.

Owen’s back slammed against the far wall and his head hit with a crack. “Fuck.” As he grabbed the back of his head and his glare locked on mine, he said, “Get the fuck out of here, asshole.”

“Oh, hell no.” I swung back with my fist and landed it square on Owen’s jaw. “You don’t pick fights with hockey players.”

Owen’s head jerked to the side, and he dropped to his knees. “Fuck!” He rubbed his jaw, then looked up at me, blood dripping from his lip.

“You want some more?” I held up my fist and jumped on my toes. Should I hit him again or kick the fucker?

“No, no, man.” He held up his palm to me, then slowly stood. “You can have him.” Shaking his head, he stumbled into the bar.

My gaze swept to Ryan, who was leaning his back against the wall, his head hanging.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He slid down the wall and sat on the floor, pulling his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

Jesus, he looked bad. What the fuck did Owen think he was doing? I crouched down beside him. “I’m fucking glad I was here.” I hooked my arms around him and hauled him into my chest, breathing in his fragrant shampoo, flowery and spicy at the same time. God, he smelled good, felt so fucking good in my arms. I brushed my hand over the soft curls of his hair, my whole body tingling with sparks.

He nuzzled my neck. “Thank you.” Inching closer into my side, he lifted his head, then grabbed the back of my neck and crushed his lips to mine.

An explosion of emotion unleashed inside me, and I parted my lips, thrusting my tongue inside his mouth, tasting him fully,my cock hardening in an instant. I cupped his cheek and slanted my mouth over his, our kisses growing needy.

A soft moan rumbled out of him, and he shifted on the floor, dropping his knees to the side, clutching the back of my hair, the hunger in his kisses matching mine.

After a few moments, he broke the kisses and pressed his forehead to mine, panting, his fingers still threaded in my hair. “Holy shit, I needed that.”

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