Page 65 of Top Shelf
I toss Keller a look that clearly saysWhat the fuck was that?
“That’s what I would like to know,” he says, reading it clearly. “What the fuck do you mean she moved in with you? Intoourbuilding?”
I shrug. “I mean, she moved in. How hard is that to comprehend?”
He glowers, though that’s nothing new for him. “Dude.”
“What?”
But I know what. I do. It’s so fucking stupid and reckless. I can see that now, especially after how we left things. I had every intention of sleeping on the couch, but then she looked at me with those forest eyes of hers, and I broke. Granted, it didn’t take much convincing—actually, almost none on my part—but still. I really was trying to keep my distance. I was trying to be good. I was trying to stay away.
I couldn’t, though. Just like I couldn’t resist asking her about that night.
“You, Gavin. I was scared of you.”
What did that even mean? Why was she scared of me? Did she mean scared of us? Scared of what the night meant? Because it fucking terrified me too. It still does because how the hell am I still so hung up on a one-night stand from half a year ago? How am I still so tangled up in knots over someone I spent one night with? I don’t fucking know, but I am.
We didn’t say anything else after that confession. I pretended to fall asleep, waiting for Nessa to do the same. Eventually, she did, and it was her soft snores that finally lulled me into slumber. I wish I had never slept at all, though. All I did was dream about that night. It felt so fucking real, like it was happening all over again.
I woke up with my cock so damn hard I had to take a cold shower. I haven’t done that since I was a teenager. But there I was, a nearly forty-year-old man standing under the icy water to avoid stroking my dick to thoughts of a beautiful younger woman. I was so disgusted with myself that I left hours before I needed to just to avoid seeing her again.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I mutter.
“So Hutch knows?” Keller counters.
“No, because it’s none of his business. She’s an adult.”
He snorts. “Right. She’s what, twenty-four or something?”
“Twenty-seven.”
He whistles. “Quite the age gap you got there. Ten years?”
“Eleven,” I say through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is your point, Keller?”
“My point is: You’re too fucking old to be doing stupid shit like this, to be hiding stuff from your friends. And by the way, you wouldn’t be hiding it if you didn’t think you were doing something wrong.”
“Idon’tthink I’m doing anything wrong because I’m not. And I’m not hiding anything. I just haven’t told him yet.”
“But you’re going to, right?”
I can’t help but laugh at the irony of this situation. Two years ago, I was having this exact conversation with Hutch when he was sneaking around with Auden, despite it being forbidden. The only thing is, I’m not sneaking around with Nessa.
But you want to, a little voice in my head says, and I try to shush it the best I can.
Keller sighs. “Look, man, all I’m saying is, be careful, yeah? You’ve already got one big secret regarding his sister, and now you’re making it two. You’re digging yourself a hole. That’s not like you, Locke. You’re not that kind of guy, so that tells me one of two things—you’re either in over your head and just don’t know how to swim out, or this girl means more to you than you’re letting on. If I were a betting man, I’d say it’s option two.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Keller barrels on.
“But that’s your thing. You deal with that however you need. I’m still firmly in the camp that this could ruin the team dynamic, and I don’t want that. So whatever’s going on…however you feel…figure it out and be honest about it.”
He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do I. How could I? It’s clear Nessa meanssomethingto me, but I don’t exactly know what that is. Is she just a damn good memory, or is she something else? I think I already know the answer to that, but it’s late and I’m tired and I don’t want to analyze shit anymore.
We pull up to the hotel shortly after and pile out. We get our rooms and turn in for the night, that post-win buzz from earlier having worn off by now. Besides, I’m sure most of these guys want to get to their rooms to talk to their partners some more. I know I’d be doing that if I had someone too.
I drop my bag on the chair in the corner of the room, then strip out of my dress shirt and pants, not even bothering to put anything else on. I’m just going to crawl right into bed and fallstraight to sleep. I’m in the bathroom when I hear my phone rattle against the table. I ignore it.
It rings again, which sets me on edge. It’s late, and the only people who would call twice in a row are my parents or one of my siblings. But it’s not them.
