I blow out a shaky breath, feeling feverish with lust. Do I have the guts to do it? Will he want to come home with me? I’m pretty sure he’d jump at the chance, but what if he doesn’t? As I button my shirt, I struggle with a sudden spike of insecurity.
Most of the time I feel like a grown-ass man. I feel accomplished. Proud of what I’ve done with my life. But now and then I recognize that the scared, chubby kid who lived in terror of the great Ryan Caldwell still resides inside me. That kids is terrified that Ryan will reject him. Mock him. Maybe turn the tables on him.
The smart thing to do would be to ignore Ryan. Let him suffer alone and in silence. Whyam I so driven to comfort a person who tormented me for years? Why do I care that Ryan is hurting right now? He never gave a shit about how much he hurt me. He did whatever Freddy Morrison told him to do. He showed me no pity.
But then I remember the desperation in his eyes when he pleaded with me not to be mad at him. My heart aches at the memory of him on his knees in his kitchen, looking up at me like my praise was pure oxygen. I know in my gut someone hurt Ryan horribly. I suspect it wasn’t later in life but when he was young. When I knew him. When we were really both just kids. I was his victim, but I suspect he was someone else’s victim too.
Maybe I shouldn’t care about that, but I do. We’re all a result of who we were around during our formative years. One reason I worked so fucking hard to lose weight and be the best hockey player I could be was because of Ryan. I wanted to show him and Freddy that they were wrong about me. That’s not to excuse what he did. It’s more an acknowledgment that the people around us make us who we are. Good or bad, they shape us. Even when we don’t want them to.
Someone molded Ryan. Someone made him doubt himself to an almost crippling degree. If he wasn’t so athletically talented, that could have kept him from becoming a professionalhockey player. His skill overcame his self-loathing. But that hatred is there. He comes off confident, but inside, he’s just a scared kid. He doesn’t have faith in himself. He hates himself. Seeing that in him makes me sad, not angry. Ryan was a fucking asshole to me when I knew him before. But he’s not that guy anymore. He’s changed, but he’s still broken.
And I want to comfort him tonight. I want to help him see his worth.
When Ryan returns from his shower, he’s just wearing a thin white towel around his hips. He’s so fucking hot, I purposely look away so that I don’t feel intimidated as I speak.
“I think you should get dressed and come home with me, Ryan.” I speak firmly, glad that my voice sounds way more confident than I feel.
I feel his gaze on me as he glances over in surprise. “What?”
I still don’t look at him, instead I scroll on my phone as if this conversation is no big deal. “I left you hanging the other night. I told you I’d make it up to you.” I force myself to meet his eyes and I smile.
He seems to melt instantly, his breathing quickening. “You really want me to come to your place?” He sounds like a little kid who was told he gets to go to Disney Land.
I hesitate. “Unless you don’t want to?”
“I want to,” he says so fast it’s almost funny. “Of course I want that.”
Relief and pleasure wash through me, but I school my face so I don’t show how happy I am that he’s accepted my offer. I enjoy being the one if control of this thing between us, and he thrives on it.
“You should get dressed so we can get going.”
“Oh, yeah.” He starts dressing quickly, but I feel his astonishment radiating. His gaze is on me as he pulls on his jeans. I don’t look at him though. He reacts best to me when he’s not sure what I’m thinking.
“You don’t have a car yet, right?” I ask.
“No. I’ve been using a car service.” He grimaces. “Does that change your mind about bringing me home with you?” He looks like he already knows the answer. Like I’ll think this is all becoming too much trouble.
“No I still want to do it.” I shrug. “You can ride with me.”
“Really?” He brightens.
I nod and meet his eager gaze. “I’ll bring you back here later.”
“You sure it’s not too much trouble?”
“Nah. I have plans for you tonight.” I give him what I hope is a seductive look.
He blinks at me. “What kind of plans?”
I’m a little nervous about bringing up what I want. But I’m pretty sure he’ll want it too. I force myself to meet his eyes. “I’ve been thinking, I want to take things to a new level with you. Sexually, I mean.”
“Meaning what?” he asks softly. Breathlessly.
I run my tongue over my bottom lip. “I’d love to fuck you, Caldwell. Is that something you’d like?”
He lets out a little strangled sound and he blushes. “You want that with me?”
My nostrils flair as I run my gaze over his body. “I do. But only if you want it too.”