Page 14 of Love Starves

His complexion seems to drop a few shades of color as he looks down to our plates still sitting on the table. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

I turn to lead us from the restaurant with his hand close enough to the small of my back to warm the spot. That's when I spot them. Crue and Nick, sitting by the front door. The latter shoots me an apologetic tilt of his lips before dropping his gaze to the table they're sharing. The asshole on the other hand glares right at Ryan like he's trying to bore a hole through him. Then those hazel eyes flick to mine, narrowing slightly before a sinister smirk takes over. If it wasn't for the polite-ass dude at my back and the thought of embarrassing him when he's been nothing but nice to me, I'd snatch the closest drink and toss it over Crue’s head.

Thankfully for everyone involved, I was raised to school my emotions better than that. With the slightest tilt of my chin, it appears as though I'm now looking down my nose at him. Hell, maybe I am. Who the fuck does he think he is? I'm quite aware of the rules and don't need reminders. Whatever part of him thinks he owns me is about to get the rudest of awakenings.

As Ryan and I make it to my car, he reaches out to grab my hand. "Hey, don't worry about taking me. I'll catch an uber or something. You should go home and rest. Can I text you later?"

"Sure," I nod, knowing two sets of eyes are tracking our every move.

"Great," he says with a wide grin. Right before he turns to leave, he stops. "I had a great time today. Thanks for having lunch with me. May I steal a kiss?"

What is it with pushy ass men today? I may be mad at the other, but this one hasn't really done anything to earn my ire. Going up on my toes, I give him my cheek. No doubt he wanted a real kiss, but that's the best he's going to get. I mean, who the hell wants to lock lips with someone who might've just been puking their guts out. Fucking yuck.

Taking what he can get without complaint, his soft, warm lips give me the barest of brushes before he's backing away again. Spinning in place, he tucks his hands in his pockets as he struts down the sidewalk in the direction of campus, whistling a merry tune. I should offer him a ride, but this is a better ending to our date than that would lead to.

A furious tick has started in my jaw, and it takes all I have to hop behind the wheel of my car and not storm back into the restaurant. Fuck Crue and his cock that should be worshipped on a bad day. Fuck Nick for tattling like a little pussy-whipped bitch. Fuck all of them. Time to redraw the lines and remind these jerkwads that I'm not someone they should be getting attached to.

Nick

When I enrolled for classes weeks ago, I'd had Crue make sure I was in at least one of Blythe's classes for the semester. As much as I can understand her need for independence since none of us were specifically in a relationship with her, only getting to see her once or twice a week has been getting old for quite some time now. To keep our side of the bargain Van struck with her, we aren't allowed to fuck other women, not like any of us have time for it anyway. Between our day jobs and the underground shit we run with Vinny, we're lucky to get twenty minutes of relaxation to ourselves. All six of us face the very same issue. Well, except maybe Elliot. Pretty sure he never sleeps. So, when one of us gets that text or phone call, we make it a point to drop whatever we're doing andmaketime for it.

Does it make me seem like she's more important than I'm supposed to according to the agreement? Sure, but I also know Van feels the same way I do since we've had many discussions about it. There's something haunting in Blythe's gaze every time she comes to us. If there were anyone in the world who needs to feel wanted and secure in a relationship, it'd be her. Do I use that as one of the excuses to myself for stalking her class schedule? Sure. However, I'm man enough to admit that it's not the sole reason. For once in my life, other than the dirty underbelly of Vinny's gym, I want to break the rules. I want to get to know the woman who has waltzed into our life and has not one, but six grown-ass men wrapped around her perfectly manicured fingers.

It's against the deal all of us made, but I want to get to know her the best I can, and I know I'm not the only one. I swear to God, every time she visits only to leave us hanging with our limp dicks blowing in the breeze when she's done using them, our resident pyromaniac, Crue, has to go set something on fire. Kenj and Dek end up beating some douche to a pulp in the ring. Elliot smokes more of the shit he's not supposed to be selling anymore. Van might as well slam the door in everyone's face for all the emotion he shows. It's just one big shitshow that no one is willing to give up nor risk losing by renegotiating the terms and conditions.

It's why I find myself striding into a Sociology class when I have no desire whatsoever to take it. The moment I spot the red-haired goddess across the room, I decide it's one hundred percent worth it. Unfortunately, all the seats around her are taken except the one behind her and a dude walking down the aisle snags it before I can even think about it. There's a second I get to enjoy the way her long, tanned legs cross underneath the desk while she absentmindedly plays with a strand of her hair and studies her phone. I'd love to know what so dutifully holds her attention.

I've barely made a move to find another seat when ‘backseat’ guy taps her shoulder. I'm not a Neanderthal like several of the others, so I'm not seeing red or anything by the guy trying to get her attention. However, I am interested in how she'll respond. Her shoulders jump forward as if she's been prodded, and those blue eyes look up to lock onto me. I'm no lesser of a man for admitting to the harsh thump of my heart in my chest stealing her attention. Even more so when she makes it obvious that she's checking me out. Fully aware of her affection toward arms and chests, I run my hand through my hair, showing off biceps that I work my ass off to maintain. Her eyes glaze over for a moment, making me want to do something stupid like shove the guy now touching her for a second time out of his seat to claim it for my own. I want to hurdle the two rows of desks between us and sock the guy in the nose for being a fucking nuisance. Surprisingly enough, I must be expressing my emotions more than I mean to I realize as her head gives the smallest of shakes. As much as I don't want to, I dip my chin in acknowledgement.

Even though I choose not to throw the guy through the wall, it doesn't mean I'm not going to observe this interaction like it's as much my business as it is theirs. I take my seat in just enough time to watch Blythe turn a haughty glare on him. Inside, I'm chuckling, knowing he's about to get that ‘holier than thou’ treatment she normally reserves for Crue. With more bodies pressing into the room, it's hard to pick up a single word they're speaking, but her expressions are easier to read than ever. My gut jumps into my throat the second she smiles. It's the smallest of things and doesn't last long, but it's enough to have me second guessing my decision not to put him through the wall. The higher the dude's smile climbs the more my heart starts to race. Then he snatches her phone out of her hand and I have to physically hold myself in my seat with my fingers clenched tight around the desk. I don't miss the way it brings a flush to her cheeks either.

That's the final straw. Taking my phone out, I send out a quick text to Crue.

Need a favor ASAP

Three tiny dots show up saying he's replying instantly. It's one thing I'll give the dude. To be such a literal hot head, he's more loyal than anybody I've ever known.

Whats up?

Can you get the register list for the Sociology class?

Less than three minutes later.

Done. What am I looking for?

Instead of wasting time with a description, I check to make sure no one's watching before zooming in and snapping a quick pic of the guy now appearing to be keying his number into Blythe's phone. It's going to raise a question or two, but Crue's pretty smart and will figure it out without her included in the shot.

Ryan Wilson. I'm running checks as we speak.He sends back a couple minutes later.

I almost feel a tad bit guilty about the "checks" Crue is putting this guy through, in more depths of the word meaning background, criminal, and credit. Then again, if she's allowing him to put his number in her phone then there's a chance she's planning on using it later. Which breaks that number one rule of taking anyone else to bed. Not necessarily thinking she'll hop on his dick first thing, even if it's glaringly obvious that it's her coping mechanism, but he's a man. Eventually, he'll want sex from her later down the road if she starts dating the guy. In a move that may be detrimental in the long run, we'll be ready with extra information on the guy just in case she needs it. Ugh. If there's a sure-fire way of telling a guy is taken with a woman, it's definitely in the way he'd be willing to be her steppingstones to another if it meant her happiness. A little something Crue struggles with more so than the rest of us. His past is so jacked up that I'm surprised he even shares her body withus.

This class couldn't drag out any longer while I have to wait for Crue's reply. Being our resident hacker, he probably had the info right after I put my phone away, in an effort to not be rude to the professor now lecturing. Luckily, I'm not the only one paying attention. Mr. Ryan Wilson has piped down and kept his hands to himself. All of that comes to a screeching halt the moment we're dismissed, however. Waiting until there's not many people left in the room, I stand in hopes I can get a quick word in with our girl. That thought gets shut down as chatty Cathy invites Blythe to lunch.

Yeah, I seriously regret not running his head through the wall now. Especially as she agrees, the blush creeping up her cheeks broadcasting her knowledge that I'm still in the room. Making a hasty exit before I do something rash, I'm halfway down the hall when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Stopping in the doorway of an empty room, I snatch it roughly out of my pocket. There's a single text with one word, chilling my bones.

Outside.

Either whatever Crue found was bad enough to come here in person or this is going to get ugly real quick. Shit, possibly both. Guilt eats at me again until I see the two of them strolling down the hall side by side. Fuck feeling guilty. She knows she's playing with fire and risking the new guy being spit-roasted over a blaze. That's on her. Trailing along behind them at a distance to step in just in case Crue gets out of control, I almost pass him standing at the driver’s door of his running blacked-out Mustang. Without a word, I hop in the passenger side while he watches their interaction in no way being able to hear the conversation.

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