Page 72 of The Best Parts of Him
Ryland had to admit that before he’d ever seen them together, the thought of Jason and Bellamy in a relationship hadn’t made sense. Not only that—it had sparked jealousy so fierce that Ryland hadn’t recognized himself there for a minute.
Truth was, Jason and Bellamy fit in a way he’d never seen Jason fit with anyone. Who was Ryland to get in the way of that? His hang-ups were exactly that—his. If he couldn’t get out of his own way and let Jason be happy, did he even deserve Jason as a brother?
“Coming over tonight?” Bellamy asked.
“I thought I would,” Jason replied, looping an arm around Bellamy’s waist.
“Ry,” Miles Sheppard said, joining them. “We’re due on the bus in a few.”
Ryland nodded. “Thanks. Hey, you remember my brother, Jason, and my best friend, Denver? You met them the one time you visited me in Maplewood.”
“You haven’t come back,” Denver commented, and was that interest that gleamed in his eyes? Denver had crushed on Miles hard when Miles had visited several years ago, but then Miles had gotten married, and Ryland had assumed Denver had gotten over it.
“Yeah,” Miles said with a laugh, pulling on the cuff of his blazer. “There wasn’t much to do there.”
Ryland was about to tell him that there was actually tons to do in Maplewood, when Denver said, in a dangerously flirty voice Ryland had heard once or twice before, “Well, next time you visit, you can do me.”
Ryland rolled his lips inward so he wouldn’t laugh, because Jesus, that was forward.
Jaw dropping, Miles stared at him, a flush rising up his neck.
Denver winked at him, then hugged Ryland close. “Catch you next time, Ry.” And he was gone, heading down the hallway toward the public exit with a swish to his hips.
Miles watched him go. “Uh . . . ”
Ryland did laugh then. “Did you swallow your tongue?”
“And every good sense in my head, I think,” Miles muttered.
“Sheppard, Zervudachi,” Assistant Coach Murtagh called. He held the door to the parking garage open for a departing Pilots player. “On the bus in three minutes.”
“Sure thing,” Ryland said as Miles scuttled off without a backward glance.
“Hey,” Bellamy said to someone behind Ryland. “See you at home?”
“Maybe” came Dabbs’ smooth voice.
Ryland whirled . . .
And swallowed his own tongue.
Wearing a royal blue suit with fitted pants that he’d paired with a white shirt and a brown leather belt and matching shoes, Dabbs was resplendent.
And he was looking at Ryland as though he wanted to eat him up.
Fatigue vanished as Ryland’s entire body went on red alert. That hungry look from Dabbs should come with a warning sign. He stepped away from Jason and Bellamy and hooked his fingers in the front of Dabbs’ blazer. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Dabbs said, his smile full of heat.
“Your place or mine?”
Bending closer, Dabbs whispered, “Depends,” in his ear, making him shiver. “How loud are you going to be?”
The door to Ryland’s hotel room had barely closed behind Dabbs before they were on each other.
“What—mmf.” Ryland swallowed his question, Dabbs’ lips on his more important than anything else.
Dabbs walked him backward, his cool hands finding the bare skin of Ryland’s back.
