Jude grinned. “Because he likes me better.”
Right now, they both sucked. I kicked Jude too.
“Jesus, Ry. Those things are pointy.”
I saluted the both of them, the alcohol starting to buzz in my head.
Gabe settled back in his seat. “Stop trying to change the subject.”
“The subject being my sex life.”
“Or lack of it.”
“Not everyone needs to have sex twenty-four seven to be living a satisfying life, you know.”
“I agree,” Gabe said. “But you’re not everyone, and you can’t tell me that if Jameson said, ‘Hey, Ryan, want to spend the weekend in my bed,’ you wouldn’t throw yourself down on his mattress.”
I was about to prove him wrong but hesitated a second too long because—
“See, I’m right.”
“We’re right,” Jude said, pointing at me, and I let out a sigh.
Okay, so they might’ve been a little bit right—or a lot. I really would throw myself down on Jameson’s mattress if he asked. But he hadn’t, so it didn’t matter how much I wanted it to happen, and these two instigators needed to realize that.
“So let’s pretend you’re right—”
“We are,” Gabe said.
“That doesn’t change anything. Jameson and I are just friends, and only recently at that.”
“Oh come on.” Jude rolled his eyes. “This guy saved you by pretending to be your boyfriend. He all but felt you up in an alley.”
“Woah, woah, woah.” Gabe held up a hand. “He felt you up in an alley?”
“Not really,” I said. “More like he…stroked my suspenders.”
Gabe’s mouth fell open. “Please tell me that’s a euphemism.”
“It’s not. He was literally playing with them.”
“Why didn’t that come up at lunch?”
I shrugged. “It didn’t seem relevant.”
“Relevant? Of course it is, not to mention it’s the best part of the story. Is there anything else you’ve left out? Any flirting? Any hints that he might be interested?”
I thought back to the night he’d shown up to look at the apartment and felt my cheeks heat.
“Oh my God,” Jude said. “There totally is. Did you really give him a sponge bath after all?”
“No.” I sighed and looked to the bar, catching the bartender’s attention. “But if you two are going to drill me—”
“Someone’s got to.” Gabe smirked.
“—then I need more to drink.”
Jude rubbed his hands together. “This sounds promising.”
When the bartender got to our table, we ordered another round, but this time tequila shots.
“Okay, we have the drinks,” Gabe said as though I was about to bolt. “So…time to spill.”
I downed my first shot. Then I just decided to rip the Band-Aid off.
“The night Jameson came to look at the apartment, he told me we’d end up in my bed, and for that reason he didn’t want to live with me.”
“Bam.” Gabe slapped his hand on the table and threw back his shot. “I knew it. I knew there was more to it. He totally wants you, Ry. You see that, don’t you?”
“I… It’s complicated.”
“No. No, it’s not. You both eat, sleep, and live under the same roof. How hard can this be?”
“Hard, I promise,” I said, and ran a hand through my hair, defeated. It was time to give it up. These two knew me better than anyone else, and there was no hiding how badly I wanted Jameson. “Ugh, it’s not fair. He’s just so hot. Hot and grumpy and…there’s something about him that’s so damn sexy. He’s all I ever think about.”
“Then do something about it.” Jude pointed to my phone. “Text him.”
“What?” I shook my head. “No way.”
Gabe slid out of the booth and into mine and scooped up my phone. “Come on. How are you ever going to know how he feels unless you tell him how you feel?”
I wasn’t quite sure that was the smartest way to rationalize things, but with the drinks and alcohol fueling my buzz, rationalization was a thing of the past.
“Okay, give it to me.”
Gabe handed me my cell, a mischievous grin on his face, and I opened up a new text thread to Jameson and began to type. I described all of the things I’d ever dreamed of doing to him, and by the time I got to the end, my cheeks felt as though they were on fire.
“That must be some text,” Jude said, waggling his brows. “You’re as red as the cherries that were in our daiquiris.”
“Shh. I’m concentrating.”
“Mhmm,” Gabe said, leaning in to read over my shoulder. “On getting Jameson naked.”
I chuckled and bit my lip, really getting into it. I was on a roll now.
“Okay, done.”
“Show.” Jude gestured for my phone, and I handed it over. A couple seconds later, he let out a whistle. “That’s how it’s done. I’m proud.”
Gabe was next to check out my masterpiece. When he bumped shoulders with me and said, “Where’s Marcus when I need him?” I knew I’d relayed my longing and pent-up frustration perfectly.
I took the phone back from him and read through it one more time. “I’m crazy listening to you two.”
“Nooo, smaaaht.” Gabe laughed, grabbed another shot, and threw it back. “Do eet. Do eet.”
I looked over to Jude, who was nodding enthusiastically—nothing like peer pressure.
“Send it, Ry.”
Then Gabe leaned over and hit SEND for me.
Oh. My. God.
I whipped my head in his direction, and Gabe grinned. “You’re welcome.” When I just stared at him, he held out another shot to me. “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Woohooooo.” Jude did a drumroll on the tabletop and then gestured for the bartender, and Gabe started to laugh uproariously. “Now let’s celebrate.”
Chapter 21
Jameson
FOR THE FIRST time in a week, I felt like my normal, regular, healthy self. My first shift back at the station had been a wake-up call that my body had definitely been put through the wringer. But after spending most of it at a desk, and then a somewhat restless night’s sleep back at home, I was finally back to fighting fit.
I glanced at my phone on the nightstand, the culprit of my tossing and turning, and wondered if I’d imagined that text I received last night. But then I thought about the dreams that had invaded my sleep, and I figured that was a no.
I stretched beneath the covers and reached for my cell. There it was. I definitely hadn’t imagined it. Staring back at me on the screen was one of the sexiest things I’d ever read in my life. It was hot, dirty, and very detailed, and I could hardly believe it’d come from GQ.
Ever since he’d nursed me back from what felt like the brink of death, Ryan and I had been getting along better than ever. It was difficult to keep up walls when the guy had seen me at my absolute worst, but nothing had prepared me for what was written here.