“Reed—”
“I’ve gotta go,” he interrupted, keeping his gaze downcast. “Make sure to lock your door the second you get upstairs.”
Before she could open her mouth to protest, he was gone.
Darcy stared at his retreating back in disbelief, tempted to run after him and demand he finish that cryptic sentence.
It’s the only way for me to…
To what, damn it?
She watched as his long strides briskly ate up the sidewalk, and once he’d fully disappeared from view, she just stared at the empty street, unable to control the pounding of her heart.
What had just happened? If Reed were anyone else, she might think he’d almost admitted to having a thing for her, except the man had never shown even a smidgen of interest in her in the past.
The logical part of her insisted that she’d misinterpreted this whole night from start to finish, but Reed’s enigmatic behavior lingered in her mind and followed her all the way up to her apartment.
And haunted her for the rest of the night.
…
Reed showed up at the club earlier than usual the next evening. Sin opened at seven o’clock, but he was in his office by six, hoping that the mountain of paperwork on his desk would distract him from thoughts of Darcy.
Christ, he’d come so close last night to telling her how he felt about her. Standing outside her building, with those big blue eyes focused earnestly on his face, he’d nearly spilled his guts. Blurted out just how badly he wanted to kiss her. Confessed to all those nights he’d lain awake thinking about her. Admitted that seeing her with AJ triggered a burst of crushing jealousy he’d never experienced before.
But at the last second, he’d swallowed the confession, knowing it was one he could never, ever voice.
A man didn’t hit on his friend’s girl—or his friend’s ex. Period.
And AJ’s friendship meant way too much to Reed to risk throwing away.
“Hey, you’re here early.” Gage Holt appeared in the doorway, his eyes flickering in surprise to find Reed at his desk.
Reed cocked a brow. “So are you.”
“Yeah, I called a staff meeting for all the bouncers,” Gage answered as he entered the office and headed for the sole armchair across from the desk.
“How’s Jeff working out, by the way?” Reed asked, referring to the bouncer he’d sent Gage’s way a few months back. Jeff was an old buddy of his from the fighting circuit, tough enough to handle the security duties required of him, but not a loose cannon like some of the other MMA folks Reed had crossed paths with in the past.
Gage lowered into the chair, leaning his head back. “He’s doing great, actually. One of the best guys we have.” His expression clouded over. “I want Jeff and the other boys to watch everyone on the floor tonight like hawks.”
“Are we any closer to finding the asshole who’s dealing in the club?”
Gage was usually hard to read, but tonight his expression clearly broadcast his feelings on the matter. Anger and annoyance shone there, his mouth set in a tight line as he shook his head in response.
“Oh, and I ran into Vinnie this morning,” Gage said flatly. “He told me that the cops are starting to crack down on the club district. They want to stop the flow of drugs in the city, and they’re planning on using a heavier hand with all the club owners.”
“Vinnie knows we’re not dealers,” Reed grumbled. “We grew up with the guy, for fuck’s sake.” In fact, Vinnie was the reason Sin didn’t receive a lot of attention from local law enforcement. He’d vouched for Reed and the guys, assuring his superiors that everything the three men did was aboveboard.
“There’s only so much he can do for us.” Gage made a frustrated noise. “Shit. We’ve really gotta find this dealer before Sin gets a reputation for being a place that pushes drugs.”
“I’m working the bar tonight, so I’ll keep an eye out too.” Reed hesitated. “Have you heard from AJ?”
“No, but Skyler got a call from Darcy earlier today. Did you know AJ and Darcy broke up?”
He shifted in his chair. “Yeah. I ran into Darcy last night at the Krib, and she told me all about it. I tried calling AJ twice today, but he’s not picking up his phone.”
“I don’t blame him. Dude’s probably heartbroken.”
“You think? Darcy told me the breakup was mutual.”
Gage rolled his eyes. “Breakups are never mutual.”
“That’s what I said, but she insisted it was.” Reed didn’t offer any more details, afraid that the conversation would veer into dangerous territory if he did.
The last thing he wanted was for Gage to ask questions about his encounter with Darcy. So far, he’d successfully managed to mask his attraction for the woman, but he wasn’t sure he could keep up the I-Hate-Darcy charade at the moment. Not when his almost-confession to her last night had left him feeling so raw and exposed.
So he swiftly changed the subject to one he knew Gage wouldn’t be able to resist. “How’s Skyler doing?”
As expected, Gage’s expression softened at the mention of his girlfriend. “She’s great.”
Reed had to grin. “Still rocking your world every night?”
“Hey,” his friend chided, “show some respect. That’s the mother of my future children you’re talking about.”
Gage’s staunch certainty brought an ache of longing to Reed’s heart. Jeez, he was turning into such a pathetic sap. It wasn’t too long ago that he’d been perfectly content playing the field and racking up notches on his sex belt, reveling in the excitement of the chase and all the fun it resulted in.
But seeing Gage happy with Skyler, and AJ seemingly happy with Darcy, had stirred up the most fucked up need for something more meaningful than casual sex.
Except the only woman he was remotely interested in was the one woman he couldn’t have.
And even if Darcy was on the table, he knew she wouldn’t date him, anyway. Why would she? She thought he was a player, an opinion he’d helped shape by hooking up with a revolving door of women in the five months Darcy had been with AJ. And besides, he’d never even been in a real relationship before—what could a guy like him offer someone like Darcy?
Reed pushed aside the bleak thoughts and raised his eyebrows at Gage. “You’ve only been dating Skyler a couple months. Isn’t it a little too early to call her your forever love?”
The other man’s voice rang with conviction. “Oh, it’s forever.”
“Someone’s mighty confident of that.”
“Trust me, when you know, you know.”
Damn it. Now he needed to change the subject again. His attempt to get his friend talking about light-hearted dirty stuff had been foiled by Gage tossing back the F-word.
The other F-word—forever.
Fortunately, Reed’s cell phone rang before his buddy could drop more F-bombs, but the wave of relief that washed over him dried up the second he glimpsed AJ’s number on the display.
“AJ,” he told Gage, his muscles tightening right back up again.
“You can take it. I need to go round up the guys, anyway,” Gage replied. “I’ll catch you later.”