Page 14 of Wild Like Us

The ache in my muscles goads me to keep going and sweat builds up along my skin. Halfway through, my breathing heavies and it takes more energy to do the same movements.

When my arms start quaking like jelly, I set the bar back in its rack. I may love pushing my limits, but I don’t have a spotter. And an injury is a worse outcome.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead with my arm, and my eyes flit to the clock.

3:45 a.m.

Close enough. The longer I prolong talking to Akara—the more I’m going to be chicken-shit scared and back out. I can’t back out.

I made up my mind last night. And that’s that.

Grabbing my water bottle from the nightstand, I make a quick exit from my room. I wind through the hallway and leave through the front door, entering a foyer with an elevator.

Akara lives three floors below the penthouse in a two-bedroom apartment with some of the other Security Force Omega bodyguards.

His roommates: Banks Moretti, Paul Donnelly, and Quinn Oliveira.

As the elevator drops me off, and I walk down the hallway of the 30thfloor, I type out a quick text to Akara.At your door. Can we talk?

I don’t overthink it before I hit send, and then I slide my cell into my shorts pocket.

Waiting for a reply, I pop the lid to my water bottle. At this early hour, it’s no surprise that the hallway is empty and dead quiet. Water rushes down the back of my throat.

The door suddenly opens—

A very shirtless Banks Moretti exits the apartment.

I inhale quickly andchokein surprise.

“You alright?” Banks whispers in concern and softly shuts the apartment door behind him.That’s strange.But it’s hard to focus on his actions when I’m coughing into my elbow.

I nod vigorously. “It just”—I motion to my throat—“went down the wrong way.”Because I was expecting someone else. Not you.

And not ahalf-nakedyou.

Gray drawstring pants hang low like he threw them on quickly to meet me in the hall. Dog tags lie against his unshaven chest. More hair leads down his sculpted body, a trail rightto his package.

Oh,fuck, I’m looking at his crotch.

I raise my gaze and catch his shadowy smile. He leans against the wall next to the shut door, muscular arms threading loosely. “You used to swallowing water?”

Pool water,yeah. My natural makeup is probably half-chlorine by now. But that response flits away as I take a sip from my water bottle, then I reply, “Probably not as much as you’re used to making girls choke.” I let out a weak laugh because I can’t tell if we’re buddy-buddy still. Maybe we never really were…

I’m so fucking confused.

Banks shuts one eye. “You’d be surprised.” His other eye tightens like fluorescents suddenly beam at him. But the hallway lighting is dim at best.

I’d be surprised?“It was a blow job joke,” I say, thinking he didn’t get it.

“I know.” He rubs his temple. “Don’t love blow jobs as much as other things.” His nose flares while he takes a long blink.

“Hey, are you alright?” I step forward.

“Yeah.” He expels a heavy breath. “No…actually I’ve gotta grab something.” He stands off the wall, but hesitates to go back inside the apartment.

And that’s when I realize, “Akara sent you?”

Banks bounces his head. “He just needs five minutes, then he can talk.”