Page 5 of Straight to You

“Uh, sorry about that,” I say, trying to keep it light. I don’t know what he’s thinking. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m thinking. This is brand new territory for both of us, and I know I crossed so many lines in there.

Ryder just smirks at me, clearly knowing I’m feeling awkward about this conversation. “Don’t worry, I’m not scarred for life or anything.”

I bark out a laugh, surprised by how relaxed he seems, but then again, it is Ryder, and that’s kind of his whole vibe. I take a deep breath, feeling better about this conversation already. “The one time you actually show up on time, huh?”

“I told you I was heading over,” he shoots back, and fair , he did. But usually that means he’ll still be another fifteen minutes, at least. It’s really his fault for being so bad at being on time and giving accurate updates. “Not my fault you were…occupied.”

“Oh, we’re calling it ‘occupied’ now?” I grin in his direction and throw up some air quotes around the word.

I drop onto the couch and leave a cushion of space between us. Usually, I wouldn’t worry about that, but I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable after what just happened—whatever that was.

But then again, he did walk in without knocking, and he knows the bathroom has a glass shower door, which makes me wonder why.

I try to push the thought out of my mind because Ryder’s straight.

He always has been, and whatever feelings I’m trying to project onto him need to stay buried.

I’ve made it this long without slipping, I know I can lock it all back up and do it again because no matter what, I’d rather have him in my life as my best friend than risk losing him.

“There you two are!” Mia calls out as we walk into the bar, a little later than usual.

“Yeah, yeah. Blame Logan tonight, it’s actually his fault,” Ryder responds, and I know he’s thrilled I’m the reason why we’re late. “I was on time for once.” He smirks my way, and I can’t help but shake my head at him. He’s eating this up.

“Mark it down as a once-in-a-decade occurrence,” I shoot back with no heat.

“I’ll grab your drinks and bring them over to ya,” Mia confirms. We make our way over to our regular table, saying hi to some of the other regulars as we pass them.

Mia walks over with two frosty mugs filled to the brim with beer. “I still can’t believe Ryder was on time for once.”

Ryder shrugs and shoots me a quick look before saying, “Yep, showed up right when things got interesting, too.”

I nearly choke on a laugh and shoot him a warning look. He’s not going to tell people our business, but still. He’s pushing it. Instead of saying anything more, though, he just takes a sip of his beer, looking way too pleased with that little crumb he dropped for Mia.

She raises an eyebrow before waving it off. “I’m not even gonna ask.”

“Probably for the best,” I murmur.

She walks off shaking her head, and I can only imagine the things that woman has heard from patrons in this bar .

“What’s wrong with you?” I laugh, asking Ryder as soon as she’s out of earshot.

He licks his lips and grins. “Nothing, I just appreciate good timing.”

I snort, and I’m grateful he’s not being weird about this, but he also seems a little extra…

flirty? Don’t get me wrong, he’s always a little flirty with me, and I know we have a unique friendship compared to most guys, but he’s acting so normal about finding me jerking off in the shower.

I guess I expected him to want to bury it and move on.

Maybe this is a good sign.

Not wanting to push him too far, I decide to move the conversation back to safer territory. And to stop myself from thinking too deeply about this potential shift in him.

“You ever think we spend too much time here?”

Ryder tilts his head like he wasn’t expecting the question. “Nope, it’s the perfect amount. I like being a regular. I like walking in and having Mia pour my beer without even having to ask what I want.”

“You’re so predictable,” I laugh.

Before he gets another word out, the door at the front of the bar swings open, and I watch Ryder’s face drop. I turn my head to see what caused the reaction, and it’s the same guy he couldn’t stop glancing at last Friday.

Of course this asshole had to come back and fuck up our Friday night ritual two weeks in a row.

Ryder hasn’t brought up last Friday at all, and I assumed if he did want to talk about it, he would have said something on Tuesday.

“Did something happen with that guy?” I ask, unable to stop myself now.

He shakes his head, eyes still glancing at the guy. It’s like as much as he wants to ignore him, he’d rather know where he is at all times. “No, nothing happened. Just gave me the creeps.”

I nod, glancing over at the guy, but right now, he doesn’t seem focused on Ryder at all. Maybe it was a one-time thing, and he realized Ryder wasn’t exactly giving off a ‘come flirt with me’ vibe and decided to move on.

“Wanna leave?” I offer. I don’t particularly want a repeat of last weekend with Ryder getting all withdrawn and broody. “We can go somewhere else. Or grab takeout and crash at mine.”

Ryder finally looks at me. “No. It’s fine. I don’t even think he’s noticed me this time. I’m sure I was overreacting. Last weekend was just weird; I was really in my head.”

I nod, but still, something about the way this stranger is causing Ryder to react unsettles me.

Realistically, though, the guy probably thinks Ryder is hot because, as we’ve already established, he is.

Mia hands the man his drink, which looks like a whiskey neat, and he turns to scan the room.

His gaze lands on us, and he pauses, looking at us long enough that it feels deliberate.

And now I get why Ryder felt so on edge last week.

There’s something off about the way the guy’s looking at us.

It’s not a friendly gaze, or even curious.

It’s the kind of look that makes your stomach tighten even if you can’t explain why.

“Uh, Loge,” Ryder whispers.

“I see him,” I confirm, as I watch him get closer and closer to our table. “I’ll deal with this.”

He’s tall, probably around our height. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders; the kind of build that makes you wonder if he played football. He’s wearing a worn leather jacket, and there’s something about the way he moves that immediately puts me on edge.

He stops at the edge of the table with his whiskey in hand. “Mind if I join you?” he asks.

“You always invite yourself to other people’s tables, or is tonight special?” I ask, tilting my head.

His lips twitch like he finds this funny. “Thought I’d introduce myself.”

I glance at Ryder, who is looking only at me, and I don’t want to make him more uncomfortable, but maybe this will help both of us feel more at ease if we exchange a few words. Feel him out.

“Okay,” I grumble. “And you are?”

“Kyle,” he offers.

“Logan,” I reply.

Then he turns expectantly toward Ryder and offers him a big smile, which I certainly didn’t get.

“And you’re Ryder, right?”

My head snaps in his direction. How does he know who Ryder is, and what kind of person doesn’t just ask someone’s name, even if they do already know it somehow?

“Uh,” he hesitates. “Yeah.”

“How do you know his name?” I question, completely uncaring if I come off as rude. The only person I care about at this table is Ryder.

“Oh, the bartender told me.”

“Hm,” I hum.

He nods at me, and I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it. Maybe he already knows who Ryder is and is trying to play it off like he doesn’t.

Ryder does have a public Instagram account for his narration, and he has a decent following. All of his accounts are tied to his name. Even if he doesn’t post his face all that often, it’s out there. We’ve joked more than once about listeners falling in love with his voice. Hell, I’ve seen the DMs.

So maybe this guy isn’t just some rando who wants Ryder. Maybe he’s a fan and trying to hide it, which almost makes it worse.

“You two live around here?” he asks, looking at Ryder, sliding his drink onto the table like he plans to stay a while.

“Yep,” I say before Ryder can respond, not wanting him to feel pressured into talking to this guy. “Grew up in the area. Small town, everyone knows everyone.” I try to insinuate to him that strangers stand out here.

Kyle shrugs, unbothered by my comment. “I like places like this, easier to meet people.” His eyes drift back to Ryder.

“What brings you here?” I ask.

“Construction.”

I see Ryder nod slightly, but he hasn’t said a word since confirming his name, and I know it’s time to wrap this conversation up. Ryder usually isn’t this quiet, and his disinterest in joining the conversation tells me everything I need to know—this isn’t helping.

“Well, cheers to that,” I say, lifting my beer in a half-assed toast. Trying to make him realize it’s time for him to go.

But he doesn’t lift his glass from the table, and he doesn’t leave. He just watches Ryder for a second and says, “You ever get the feeling you’re supposed to meet someone? Like you’re in the right place, at the exact right time? Almost like your meeting is fate?”

The hair on the back of my neck prickles. Yeah, it’s time for him to go.

“Can’t say I’ve had that particular epiphany,” I reply, setting my beer down .

Kyle huffs out a little fake laugh, and I hate the sound. “Maybe you will,” he replies, looking right at Ryder, who’s doing his best to avoid eye contact.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Ryder. Maybe we can talk some more soon,” he says, as he lifts his drink from the table. Then, as if he remembers I’m there too, he turns to me with a quick nod. “Logan.”

As soon as he walks away, Ryder lets out a big exhale like he’s been holding his breath for minutes.

“What the hell was that?” I ask quietly.

Ryder shakes his head slowly. “I don’t know, but I didn’t like it. He seems weirdly into me.”

I nod in agreement. That whole fate thing? It rubbed me the wrong way, and I make a mental note to ask Mia about that guy later to see what he really said about Ryder.

“You wanna go home?” I ask.

Ryder’s eyes flick to mine, and I see the way his shoulders relax, just a little. “Yeah,” he nods. “Let’s go.”

We pay and head outside. Mia commented that we’ve been dipping quickly over the last two weeks, and I told her we’d talk later. This guy’s construction project needs to wrap up soon so he can go back to wherever the hell he came from. I hate that he’s making Ryder feel uncomfortable in our spot.

As soon as we start walking home, the tension that clung to us at the bar begins to loosen, and I’m already feeling a bit better.

When we get inside my apartment, Ryder kicks off his shoes by the door and collapses onto the couch.

Nights like this always remind me of when we lived together, and I hate that we tried to be ‘mature adults’ and get our own places.

We only live a six-minute drive apart now, but that still feels too far .

“You’re staying over tonight, right?” I confirm as I grab a couple of bottles of water from the fridge.

Ryder glances over at me, one arm slung over the back of the couch like he’s weighing his options. “Eh, I’ll stay. I’m too comfy to move now.”

“Too comfy already?” I laugh, raising an eyebrow as I toss him a bottle. “You’ve been here all of sixty seconds.”

“That’s all it takes for your couch to work its magic,” he chuckles, cracking the bottle open. “Plus, I know you’d miss me.”

He scoots over to make room for me on the couch as I plop down beside him, turning on the TV.

“Pretty sure I survived last Friday night when you went home.”

“Yeah, but I was giving you some alone time to appreciate how much you need me,” he teases.

“You know I always need you,” I admit, not even pretending to hide the truth. Last weekend sucked without him and I want him to know just how much I want him here with me.

“Me too,” he says quietly, before glancing at me. “Thanks for doing all the talking with that guy, Loge.”

“Of course. The whole conversation was bizarre. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Ryder nods. “Yeah. I don’t know what that guy’s deal is, but he was giving me weird vibes last week, too. Except then he was just watching me from across the bar.”

I nod. It makes a lot of sense now that he’s explaining it. “He’s not exactly hiding how into you he is, either.”

“Tell me about it,” he groans.

I was right about that guy being into Ryder, but Ry’s definitely not into him. That should make me feel better, but it doesn’t, mostly because I hate seeing him this tense. It’s not like him at all.

We stay on the couch watching TV for a little bit about a new blind dating show called Love Without Labels until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, despite how entertaining it is.

“You coming to bed or you wanna stay out here?” I ask, getting up off the couch.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed.”

I stand up first and hold my hand out to Ryder to help pull him off the couch. He grabs it, but he lets go as soon as he’s upright. Part of me wants to reach out and slide my fingers through his and keep holding his hand, but I don’t.

He follows me down the short hallway, and we both head into the bathroom to brush our teeth.

When we’re done, we strip down to our boxer briefs and get into bed.

Ryder lets out a contented sigh as he burrows under the blanket, his arm brushing mine, and something about the casual closeness nearly undoes me, even though this is very standard for us.

I want to reach for him, pull him closer, and wrap him up in my arms because that’s how needy I feel tonight. And if I did, he wouldn’t think twice. We’ve cuddled more times than I can count. Honestly, platonic cuddles should be more of a thing between friends.

But I know tonight if I let myself reach for him, I’ll want more. Not just a sleepy shoulder to lean on, or the kind of casual cuddle that means nothing. I’ll want him to wrap his arm around me like I matter.

And I can’t want that.

Ryder shifts onto his side to face me, fingers brushing my arm as he gets comfortable. A few seconds later, he drapes an arm across my chest, and I don’t move. I just smile to myself and let it happen.