Page 7

Once my classes are over, I’m still irritated, and doubly so when it’s warm enough outside that I have to carry my jacket instead of wearing it.

So now my backpack is slung over one shoulder, phone in hand, and jacket draped over one arm.

That nagging feeling of being watched is gone which hopefully means Reid is back at his house, instead of following me around.

Not that I minded being followed, I just can’t protect him if he’s the one watching me.

Parker is waiting for me when I enter the house. “Give me the shoes.”

Ignoramus. I punch him in the stomach and continue to walk into the kitchen. I’m starving. Parker limps behind me, and when I turn around, he’s clutching at his stomach in agony.

“You are such a dick. You didn’t have to use full force.”

“That was half force.”

“No fucking way,” Parker wheezes.

During our training freshman year—training in the loose sense of the term meaning we went to the gun range, had some kickboxing, and spent time in each other’s pockets so that we could work together as a team—Parker and I were always paired up.

It was the two of us fighting each other, the two of us as lookouts, the two of us trauma bonding over the loss of a family member.

Parker might be more deft with a weapon, but I can still knock him on his ass with a single blow.

The fridge is half empty since we haven’t gone shopping in probably a few weeks.

Means it’s my turn. Because sometimes I’m the only one that drags themself to the store, even though Jacob is the one more apt to cook.

Shit, they’re all jerks. I spend a few moments tossing a sandwich together and grab the bag of chips I keep hidden in the cabinet over the fridge.

Parker squawks behind me when he realizes what I've hidden.None of them can reach up there without a chair, so it’s where I hide all the good junk food.

“You fucking dirtbag! You seriously hid the sour cream and onion over the fridge?”

I lift a chip to my mouth and crunch it slowly as Parker glowers at me.

I toss myself down onto the kitchen table to eat my snack.

Parker tosses himself down in the chair opposite me with an agonized huff.

I flick the bag across the table so that he can have a few, which seems to instantly mollify him. Nice.

“Reid found out I’ve been doing some friendly stalking,” I admit, pushing the remainder of my sandwich across the table for Parker to eat.

He takes a grateful bite, eyes narrowed my way. “What’s your obsession with this dude?”

I shrug because I really don’t know the answer to that.

He’s hot, yeah, but I could easily find a hookup.

Seeing someone so reckless with their own safety has always turned on my own protective instincts.

There’s this obvious pain hidden deep in Reid’s eyes that begs for someone to keep him safe.

He might’ve caught me, but Parker can keep him safe when I can’t be there. For now.

“I’ll cover him tonight. He lives like two minutes down the street.”

“I know.”

Then I flee to my bedroom because I’m suddenly out of words.

I’ve never been much for talking, actions say more than words ever can.

Thankfully, the guys mostly leave me alone when they realize I’ve reached my quota for the day.

I finish up my homework in the shelter of my bedroom, take a long shower while doing my best to not think about Reid, and end up in bed before nine in the evening. A perfect night.

I must’ve fallen asleep early because the loud vibrating of my watch wakes me up. Fuck. Usually I take it off before falling asleep so alerts don’t disturb me. But Parker’s caller ID in my phone makes me bolt upright in bed. Double fuck.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, so I have a little problem,” Parker says, voice oddly high-pitched.

“What?”

“Can you come to the Double Up on the other side of town?”

I freeze while tugging a shirt over my head. The Double Up? What the fuck is Parker doing at a gay bar when he’s not gay. Wait.

“Reid is at the Double Up?” I screech into the phone.

Parker wheezes slightly. “Yeah. Please hurry.”

The night is dark when I peel out of the basement garage on my bike.

Everything blurs around me. I don’t even know if I stop for red lights.

By the time I arrive at the Double Up my heart is racing and my tongue is thick in my mouth.

A line still curves around the corner of the loud, thumping club, but I bypass it and head straight for the bouncer.

One hard stare from me has Tony letting me through with a bite of his lip.

Easy. The hallway is dark and the smell of sex and alcohol permeates the air.

Jesus. Clenching and unclenching my fists at my side only helps so much since I’m about ready to pummel the shit out of someone.

Couples are hidden in the corners when I finally break into the main part of the club.

Full dance floor, too-loud music, and my eyes flick over the crowd in hopes of finding Parker.

But his ruffled dark hair and broad shoulders are absent from the dance floor.

I push through the swaying crowd, already irritated with the idea of having to sort this mess out.

People try to tug me into a dance but I shrug everyone off, too eager to find Parker.

Also, Reid. My blood boils at the idea of him at the Double Up, with someone in the bathroom, bent over the sinks with his hands pressed to the mirror.

I’m going to commit a felony.

Finally at the other side of the dance floor, I work my way into the hallway that leads to the bathroom.

My heart pounds at the idea of what I might find.

But thankfully, I spot Parker pretty fast. He’s tucked into a shadowy corner, lean body pressed hard against the wall, with Reid leaning against him, hand tucked against Parker’s side under his shirt.

Rage like I’ve never felt before simmers under my skin.

I suddenly know what they mean when someone says they saw red, because my entire vision shimmers crimson at the idea of Reid’s bare skin touching Parker.

“I gave you one fucking order,” I growl at Parker as I carefully shove Reid off of him, curling my fingers tightly around Reid’s slim arm.

“Told you,” Parker murmurs.

“What?” I ask, gaze flicking between them.

Reid breathes in slowly, eyes going from annoyed to irate. Oh no. I slowly slide my gaze back to Parker with trembling lips.

“You could’ve given me a heads-up that this was an ambush.”

Parker shrugs and weasels his way away from the wall to slip back toward the dance floor. “This is between you two. I’m going to get a drink and see if any hotties will flirt with me.”

“Don’t lead anyone on!” I call after him.

Parker flicks me off over his shoulder as he disappears around the corner back out into the thrumming club. Reid yanks his arm but my grip is too tight, so I tug him closer until we’re staring each other down.

“What are you angling at?” I roar, pleased when Reid flinches.

“I told you to stop following me, so you send your friend? What the fuck? I’m not that special!”

The way Reid says the last sentence has my alarm bells ringing. His eyes won’t meet mine, instead they stay focused over my shoulder. Crimson blooms over his sharp cheekbones, his lashes sweep across his soft skin as his gaze goes downcast.

“You like breakfast?”

Reid’s gaze snaps up to mine. “What?”

I clear my throat awkwardly. “There’s this diner a few minutes from here. Has the best French toast of all time. Want some?”

“Do I want French toast?” Reid repeats as if I’m speaking a foreign language. Maybe I am. At least to him.

“Yeah.”

Reid is eerily still for a few beats before nodding slightly.

A win is a win. I let my hand glide down his arm to tangle our fingers together.

I don’t miss the shocked look on his face even as he tries to angle his face away from view.

It’s easy to guide Reid through the crowd because everyone parts for my giant-ass self.

Parker leans against the bar, shot glasses littered in front of him as an adoring crowd tries to capture his attention.

He looks over his shoulder as if feeling my stare and shoots me an up-nod when I flick a wave his direction. Once we’re outside the bar, Reid seems to second-guess his easy acquiescence to join me as he tries to tug his hand out of my grip. But I don’t let go.

I climb onto my bike again like I did all those nights ago.

Holding my hand out for Reid, it takes a few minutes, but finally he puts his hand in mine so I can drag him closer to the bike.

Once the helmet is over his head, I smile up at him, but he only tilts his head in consideration. Probably not my genuine smile, then.

Reid climbs onto the back like he belongs there, easily wrapping his arms around my waist to hold on tight.

The bike rumbles to life. Light pollution ruins the night sky, but a few stars still illuminate the darkness, along with a few blinking satellites.

Reid is warm against my back as I swing into a parking spot across the street from the diner.

The glow of the diner sign flickers neon-bright in the dark, causing Reid’s almost white hair to have shades of pinks and purples.

He holds the helmet out to me and lets out an irritated huff when I don’t immediately take it.

I grab it from him a little more forcefully than I need to, earning me narrowed blue eyes in my direction.

“You should have two helmets with how often you’ve got someone riding bitch on your bike,” Reid snarls before abruptly turning and marching toward the diner.

“You’re the only person that rides bitch on my bike!” I call after him.