Page 23 of Strut

He eyed me like I was a lit fuse. “You know damn well I did.”

“Then what more do you need?”

He huffed out a laugh and shook his head like I was crazy. “A brain between us that actually worked would be an excellent start. Because what about our previous conversation in any way implies that a date between us would be a good idea?”

Hope landed like lead in my stomach as he continued.

“A year ago, I’d have leaped at the chance to date you, Hunter, because Idolike you. But you’ve just admitted you haven’t seen a relationship in your future for a long time, and that makes me nervous. Not to mention, you’re based in New Zealand and I’m in New York. You’ve got an excellent career under your belt, whereas although I’ve got a little money put aside, most days I’m a sandwich away from increasing my shifts at the bar,” he rambled, and I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, him or me. “You’re leasing an apartment in Manhattan while I’m living with nine guys and enough beauty products to sink the Titanic. Not to mention, I have a future that if not downright rocky is at best insecure.”

Fuck.I watched him for a moment, and it was all there in those beautiful blue eyes—he was tempted, but the temptation was buffered with a good dollop of fear and caution that I knew I was responsible for. Then he looked at me, really looked at me, and I knew his answer before he even opened his mouth, the disappointment clenching my chest as he shook his head.

“No.” His brows dipped. “Thanks, but no. I can’t afford to be derailed if things go tits up between us, which I fully expect they would. No disrespect intended.”

I rolled my eyes at that.

“Look, Hunter, no matter what you say, you didn’t come to New York wanting a relationship. You had a year to find me, write to me, send me a text,anything, but you didn’t. I think that says it all.” He smiled sadly. “And what you said about why you ran, Hunter. That you thought I was dangerous. I understand exactly what you mean because you’re too damn dangerous for me as well. I’ve got more skin in this game than I can afford to lose right now, and I don’t think you’ve even stuck your little finger in. So I’m saying, no.”

The cold stone in my belly turned to ice as Alec’s justifiable lack of faith hit like a punch to my chest. “Okay.” It was not okay, but how the fuck did I explain that when I barely understood it myself. Alec had made his point and I had nothing to prove him wrong. “But can we still do the friends thing?”

Alec was quiet a minute, his eyes locked on mine as he chewed his lip. “I... I don’t know.” He ran his hands down his thighs. “Look, I need to go. I had a great time, Hunter. I really did. I just... let me think about it, okay?”

“Fair enough.” I swallowed my disappointment. “You need to do what’s right for you.”

He stared a moment longer like he was about to add something, then sighed and pressed a closed-mouth kiss to the corner of my mouth. A soft brush of lips that left me wanting so much more.

“Thanks for today, Hunter. And I am sorry.” He turned and headed for the stairs that led to the street below.

I ran to the front of the overlook and watched as he dodged traffic to catch the bus that was about to pull in, the last rays of the sun catching the blue satin of his jacket, his blond hair messy in the slight upturn of breeze. At the last second, he paused and looked up to where I stood like an idiot with my nose practically pressed to the glass, my fingers still at my mouth where he’d kissed me.

He slowly raised a hand and waved.

I raised mine in return, and I thought I saw him smile. Then he climbed onto the bus and was gone.

* * *

Back in my apartment, I made myself a cup of coffee and tried not to think about how royally I’d screwed everything up with Alec.

“How’s the editorial going?” Rhys watched from the laptop screen. He was wrapped in a towel and wearing a bright orange tank withBite Mewritten in neon green script across the front. His brow crinkled as I added far too much sugar than was good for me, or anyone else for that matter, because... why the fucking hell not?

And yes, I might’ve been sulking.

“Not a word.” I raised a finger as he stared gobsmacked at the mug like it might explode and rain diabetes down on me at any second.

Beck appeared at Rhys’ shoulder wearing a smirk and not much else by the look of it—that big, delicious body curled protectively around Rhys in a sexy bear hug. The man had contemporary lumbersexual down to an art form. “I thought you’d cut back on single-handedly draining the world’s sugar supplies?”

Rhys tilted his head to smile up at the big man and their gazes locked in some kind of silent communication that wrinkled my balls. I almost reached for my Moscots since there was enough heat in the exchange to strip my damn corneas right off my eyeballs.

“I said I wasthinkingabout it,” I grumped. “I still am. There’s a lot of people who work for those companies. The guilt of the job loss would weigh heavy on my mind.”

Rhys snorted and I juggled my laptop and mug of coffee across to the armchair.

“But to answer your question, the editorial shoot is slugging along. They’ve got some new faces on their style team who seem to have a need to stamp their authority on it, so there’s a bit of grandstanding going on. But I’ll sort it out. Anyway—” I checked my watch. “—what the hell are you two doing almost naked at two in the afternoon on a Sunday? Actually, no.” I raised my hand. “I don’t want to know. The best thing about being thousands of miles away from the two of you is that I don’t have to put up with that shit anymore.”

“Aw, poor baby.” Rhys made a kissy face and I flat-handed the screen to cover his mouth. He laughed and shoved Beck aside. “Get in the shower. I’ll join you when we’re done.”

Beck pressed a soft kiss to Rhys’s lips and whispered something that painted red across Rhys’s cheeks. There was a simultaneous tug at my heart that I studiously ignored because there was no way it was envy. That hot dog, no doubt.

As Beck meandered to the bathroom, I blew on my coffee and followed him with my eyes. Six and a half feet of broad-shouldered hairy sexiness, so different from my svelte olive-skinned pretty best friend and designer, they may as well have come from different planets. And yet, they worked.

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