"Don't let Ryan hear you say that," Walker says.
"What's his deal?" I struggle to get the words out. This is fast. But I want to keep up.
Dean's eyes turn down. It's a second then he shakes it off. Back to the troublemaker. "His high school sweetheart cheated on him."
"Oh. That sucks."
"Yeah. He was looking at rings. Ready to make it official. Fuck, he loved that girl more than he loved anything," Dean says.
"How long were they together?" I ask.
"Eight years. Maybe nine. I lost track," Dean says.
Damn. That's a long time.
"It's been a while, but he can't even look at another woman. I'm not sure he's ever gonna be cured," Dean says.
"He's not sleeping around?" Walker asks.
"Not as far as I know." Dean looks to me. "Leigh might have better info. He talks to her. Kinda."
"I'm gonna tell her you called her Leigh," Walker says.
"Good. She's cute when she wants to kill me," Dean says.
"You two flirt a lot." A ton actually.
Dean laughs. "Me and Leigh? Nah, we're just sparring. She's got her heart set on someone else."
"Since when?" Walker asks.
"I'm sworn to secrecy." Dean motions zipping his lips.
"When have you ever kept a fucking secret?"
"She was drunk and miserable. I offered to let her ride Prince Albert—"
Walker scrunches his nose in disgust. "You did not fucking say that."
Dean laughs. "No. I didn't. But I did offer to fuck her. And she started crying about how she wasn't gonna be with anyone until she was with someone she loved. And it slipped out."
Walker shakes his head. "You're full of shit."
"Not this time. Fucking sucks for Leigh, 'cause she doesn't have a chance."
"She's a babe."
"You're saying that in front of your girl?"
I laugh. Sorta. It's more a laugh gasp for air combo. "No, she's a babe."
"I've said too much already." Dean holds his hands up my work here is done.
Walker shakes his head. "You're so full of shit." He hits pause on his treadmill, hops off, motions to the water fountain in the back.
I nod go ahead then look to Dean.
"He's really into you," Dean says.
"I'm really into him."
"Yeah." His gaze goes to the street. "I'm glad."
"You are?"
"Yeah. Leighton will hang more if you're around. And she's so fucking fun to tease."
"You're really not into her?"
"I'd fuck her, yeah. But I'm not into anyone."
"Ever?"
"Nobody since I was into that chick from The OC. Damn, that was back in middle school. Or was it high school?"
"Which one?"
"Fuck if I remember her name." The teasing tone drops from his voice. "Is shit okay with Bree?"
"I don't know. I think it will be. He tell you anything?"
"Not yet."
"His parents agreed to put their foot down about rehab."
Dean's eyes turn down. "Not the first time."
"Oh."
"I know you think I'm a dick. I am. But I don't want to see her tear his heart to shreds again. If something happens, let me know."
"I will."
"It guts him every time she slips."
My lips press together. "He talks about it?"
"Nah. But I can tell."
"Do you think he'll ever forgive her?"
"Eventually. But he shouldn't. She doesn't fucking deserve it."
"You think he'd ever love an addict?"
Dean turns to me. Shoots me a cutting look. "No. If it was a friend. Or a girlfriend… No, I don't think he'd stick around."
"Oh."
"Why do you ask?"
Uh… "It's genetic."
He shakes his head. "Sounds like bullshit."
"No—"
"I hope it's not. But it really fucking sounds like it."
Chapter Thirty-One
Iris
The entire ride home, I turn over Dean's words.
Does he know better?
Or should I take my boyfriend at his word?
I try to hold onto the question, but my thoughts dissolve as soon as Walker pins me to the closed front door.
His fingers trail up my inner thigh.
His eyes lock on mine.
They fill with every ounce of desire in the world.
He presses his palm against me. "You wore these to torture me, didn't you, sweetness?"
"What if I did?"
"You get off on teasing me."
"Maybe."
"I should torture you for that."
My nod is heavy.
"I will."
My tongue slides over my lips.
He rubs me over my shorts. "You want my fingers in your cunt?"
"Yes." I want all this doubt gone. I want to believe that he's mine forever. That nothing outside this moment matters. That I'm more than my ugly past.
"You want to come on my cock?" He presses his palm against my hip, holding me in place as he rubs me over my shorts.
My breath catches in my throat. "Yes."
"You want me to split you in half, sweetness?"
"Yes."
"Good. Take off your clothes."
I unzip my hoodie and slide it off my shoulders.
Walker presses his lips to mine. Then it's his hips against mine.
He pins me to the door.
Fuck, he's hard. I want every inch. I want every drop him.
I pull my tank top over my head. Reach behind my back to unhook my sports bra. I'm messy about sliding it off my shoulders.
I can't wait.
I need him.
I need every layer between us gone.
His pupils dilate as he takes me in. He rocks his hips half an inch. Enough to remind me I'm pinned.
Enough to drive me out of my fucking mind.
He brings both hands to my hips, lifts me, pins me to the door with his body.
I wrap my legs around his waist. My arms around his chest. It's like I'm a million miles off the ground. Like I'm in free fall.
I guess I am.
There's no coming back from falling in love with him.
He looks up at me. His eyes are different than normal. Needier and more commanding at once.
His fingers curl into my thighs, keeping me in place.
Slowly, he rocks against me, pressing his cock against my clit.
There's all this fabric in the way, but I can feel his warmth, his hardness.
And—
Fuck.
He does it again. Again. Again.
My eyelids flutter together.
One hand knots in his hair.
The other claws at his muscle-tank. I grab at the cotton thing and hold on tightly.
He tortures me with those tiny movements.
"Walker," I breathe. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Fuck me."
"Not yet."
I tug at his hair. "Please."