Page 91 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Kiaan

The early morning fog still clung to the trees as I climbed out of my rental car and walked towards Skylar’s tiny house, a peace offering of pastries and coffee balanced in one hand, wildflowers clutched in the other.

I’d spent half the night on the sectional couch, staring at the ceiling, plotting my comeback while trying not to notice Ryker’s steady breathing from the other end, or the way his feet brushed mine where our makeshift beds met at the corner.

I’d slipped out at dawn and driven my rental car into Friday Harbor to find a bakery. I’d chosen a selection of fresh pastries, still warm from the oven, and Skylar’s favorite coffee drink. Plus, the matcha I knew Ryker preferred, because I wasn’t a heathen. Then I’d stopped on impulse at a little flower shop and grabbed a bouquet. Local flowers, local coffee, local pastries. Because I’d realized that maybe Skylar needed authenticity, and I could do authentic. Sort of.

When I returned to the cabin, there was no sign of Ryker or Skylar. The only sound was a swish of running water that I quickly realized was coming from the bathroom. A smile tugged at my lips. Perfect. Skylar was in the shower, and Ryker was nowhere to be seen—probably off doing some manly shit like chopping wood or rescuing kittens from trees.

I set the coffee and pastries on the counter, arranging the wildflowers beside them. Then I hesitated, an idea forming that sent heat racing through my veins. Steam escaped from the open bathroom door in lazy curls. It wasn’t just ajar—it was an invitation. Had to be.

Years of increasingly filthy texts had culminated in this moment. We’d discussed shower sex extensively, describing in vivid detail what we’d do to each other under the hot spray, and I knew she had a fantasy about being surprised by her man in the shower, fucked all hot and wet.

And now, here was my chance to make fantasy reality.

I stripped off my shirt, tossing it aside. My jeans followed, pooling on the floor as I stepped out of them. Standing in just my tight black boxer-briefs, I grabbed one of the coffees and a pastry, taking a deep breath to steel my nerves.

The bathroom was small, filled with steam that beaded on my skin instantly. The walk-in shower was straight in front of me, and through the fogged glass of the shower door, I could make out a figure. Tall and broad and definitely not Skylar.

He turned off the shower and opened the sliding door, reaching out to grab a towel. As his body was revealed, for a split second, my brain refused to process what my eyes were seeing. Water sluiced down his body, tracing paths along ridges of muscle so thick they felt impossible. His chest was a landscape of defined pecs and abs, tapering to narrow hips and strong thighs. His cock hung thick between his legs, water dripping from the tip.

I froze, pastry and coffee in hand, wearing nothing but underwear that suddenly felt far too revealing as blood rushed to my groin.

“Fuck! Sorry! I thought—”

I stumbled backward, colliding with the door, which swung shut behind me. I grabbed for the knob, twisting frantically. There was a metallic crack, then it spun freely in my hand, not catching on anything.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Ryker stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist with infuriating casualness. Water dripped from his hair onto his shoulders, tracing paths down his chest that my eyes couldn’t help but follow.

“The door’s been tricky since I got here,”

he said, taking the pastry from my hand and biting into it.

“Mmm, still warm. Thanks.”

I squatted and looked at the doorknob, realizing I didn’t know how doorknobs worked, exactly, but they definitely shouldn’t spin freely.

“Do you have a screwdriver?”

He looked down at his towel and raised an eyebrow.

“Tool belt is with the other towel.”

“This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. These were for Skylar.”

“Relax,”

Ryker said through a mouthful of pastry.

“Skylar’s not even here.”

My head snapped up.

“What do you mean she’s not here? Where is she?”

“Took some clients out on her sailboat today. When I woke, no one was here. She left a note on the counter.”

He leaned against the sink, at ease despite being nearly naked in a bathroom with an equally undressed man.

“Pretty sure she’s avoiding us both.”

The information landed like a punch to the gut. She’d abandoned me to deal with Mr. Perfect and his perfect fucking body and his perfect understanding of her schedule.

He reached for the coffee I was still clutching. His fingers brushed mine, sending an unwanted jolt of electricity up my arm.

“So, what was your plan here? Surprise Skylar in the shower? That’s a bold move for someone who only met her face-to-face two days ago.”

I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated beyond belief.

“We’ve known each other for eight years.”

“Online,”

Ryker pointed out, taking a sip of the coffee.

“In person, she’d probably have punched you in the throat.”

The worst part was that he was right. My grand romantic gesture would have backfired spectacularly if Skylar had been the one in the shower. She’d made it clear yesterday that she needed time and space. Breaking into her bathroom half-naked wasn’t giving her either.

“Fuck,”

I muttered, leaning against the wall and sliding down until I was sitting on the cool tile floor.

“What the hell was I thinking?”

Ryker joined me on the floor, his towel riding dangerously high on his thighs as he stretched his long legs out. The bathroom was so small that his foot almost touched my hip. I tried not to stare at the water droplets still clinging to his chest hair, the way his muscles shifted as he breathed.

“Pretty sure you were thinking with your dick. If it helps, I don’t think any clearer around her either,”

Ryker admitted.

“Yesterday I built shelves for eight hours straight just to have something to do with my hands so I couldn’t panic about what you two were doing.”

“She didn’t even like the helicopter.”

Ryker took a long sip of his coffee.

“You sure about that? She seemed into it when she told me about it.”

“Either way, it’d be much easier if you just gave up.”

He laughed.

“Not likely. I’m just as in love with her as you are. I don’t fucking know what I’m going to do if she picks you.”

I’d been so caught up in seeing him as competition that I’d forgotten he was probably just as nervous, just as desperate to impress her as I was.

“So we’re stuck here until Skylar gets home?”

I asked, gesturing to the broken doorknob.

Ryker shook his head, still smiling.

“Guess so. The hinges are on the outside. We could kick the door open if we wanted to. But then we’d have to explain to Skylar why we destroyed her bathroom door.”

“Great,”

I muttered, settling in against the wall.

“So what do we do to kill the time?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re my best friend. What do we usually do to kill time?”

I blinked at him, my heart stopping. Best friend. He wasn’t wrong. He and Skylar were my favorite people, and now I was treating him as a rival.

“Did you know about me and her?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“I’m guessing her duplicity on that front is part of the reason she’s flipping out.”

I nodded, staring down at my hands as silence stretched between us like taffy. It was increasingly uncomfortable as we sat half-naked on Skylar’s bathroom floor. I reached for another pastry, focusing on the flaky texture rather than Ryker’s abs gleaming in the humid air.

Ryker shifted, his knee brushing mine. I didn’t move away.

“You two always had this intense connection in chat. Even before the sexting.”

Heat rushed to my face.

“You knew about that?”

“I suspected she was flirting with you, too. You weren’t subtle.”

He grinned, dimples appearing.

I groaned, covering my face.

“God, I’m an idiot.”

“Nah, just transparent.”

His expression softened.

“For what it’s worth, I kinda got off on it.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Ryker grinned, not at all bashful.

“I know you’re straight, so you probably don’t get it, but whew, the two of you together is like the ultimate fantasy.”

“Wait, you’re not straight?”

I asked, my body heating in ways it shouldn’t have.

“Nah. I’m bi, maybe pan. More attracted to the person than the gender.”

I swallowed, trying not to let my brain process that insane information. I quickly changed the subject.

“You know what drives me crazy? How fucking good you are at everything. The shelves, fixing the porch, probably saving lives daily. What do I bring to the table? Money. And she doesn’t even care about that.”

Ryker’s eyebrows shot up.

“Are you serious right now? I’m just some himbo firefighter, not the intimidating one. Kiaan, you’re a literal tech genius who sold a company for half a billion dollars before thirty.”

“Bullshit. You’re a literal hero.”

“I may work in a heroic field, but you’re the brave one, the one who puts himself on the line. I’ve been in a million situations with you when you came up with some insane strategy no one had tried before that allowed our team to dominate.”

“That’s all video game bullshit, and it only ever works because you stockpile healing potions like a doomsday prepper. You saved my ass more times than I can remember.”

“That’s my point,”

Ryker said, leaning forward, his eyes intent on mine.

“We balance each other out. You leap without looking, I pack parachutes. Together, we’re unstoppable.”

Together. The word settled in my chest, warm and unexpected. I looked at him—really looked at him for the first time without the lens of competition. His eyes were the color of the ocean at sunset, flecks of gold catching light. The steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Maybe, but you’re what she needs. Building things Skylar needs, fixing her house, making her feel safe.”

I swallowed hard, the realization crashing over me.

“I think... maybe that’s why she likes you more.”

Ryker’s expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

“She doesn’t like me more. She’s known you longer, trusts you more. Half the coding shit she says flies right over my head.”

The bathroom felt smaller, the air between us charged with something I couldn’t name. Ryker’s knee was still pressed against mine, his hand resting on the tile floor inches from my thigh. I found myself hyperaware of every point of almost-contact between us.

“So why are we competing?”

I asked, the question barely above a whisper.

“If we balance each other out, if we’re better together—why can’t we figure this out together too?”

Ryker’s pupils dilated, the blue-green of his irises darkening.

“What are you suggesting?”

Before I could answer—before I could even form a coherent thought—the front door of the cabin banged open. Footsteps approached the bathroom, and then Skylar’s voice called out.

“Hello? Guys? Where are you?”

Ryker and I exchanged panicked glances. “In here,”

he called back.

“Slight problem with the door.”

The bathroom door rattled, then shook.

“Ryker? You in there?”

Skylar’s voice called.

“Hold on, I’m getting a secrewdriver.”

After a moment, the door swung open. Skylar stood frozen in the doorway, eyes widening as she took in the scene—Ryker in nothing but a low-slung towel, me in boxer-briefs, both of us sitting on her bathroom floor surrounded by pastry crumbs.

“What the actual fuck?”

she asked, her cheeks flushing scarlet.

“The doorknob broke.”

I shrugged lamely, knowing it definitely didn’t explain the way we were dressed. Or not dressed, as it were.

Her gaze darted between us and something hot and dark flashed in her eyes, something that made my pulse jump. Then her eyes widened, and she took a quick step back.

“I can’t—I have to—”

She backed away, stumbling slightly.

“Clients. Waiting outside. For a tour. I just came back for—never mind.”

She turned and fled, the front door slamming behind her moments later.

Ryker and I sat in stunned silence for several heartbeats.

“Did you see that?”

he asked, standing and offering me his hand.

I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. His palm was warm and calloused against mine, his grip strong without being crushing.

“See what?”

“The way she looked at us.”

His voice dropped lower, a hint of gravel roughening the edges.

“I don’t think she was disgusted or angry. I think she was turned on.”

The suggestion hit me like a physical blow, blood rushing south so fast I felt lightheaded.

“You think she wants... No, that’s not even a thing.”

I turned and stalked out of the room before I could think about it any more.