Page 29 of Ryder
He heaved a huge sigh, like I was screwing up his big reveal. He offered me two middle fingers, a salute I’d seen many times from him.
“House arrest is lifted, brother. I thought you might wanna get out on the road for a bit.”
I pushed away from the counter, feeling some of that weight lifting from my shoulders at the mere thought of getting the fuck out of here.
“I can leave?”
He smirked. “Finally, he catches on.”
I mirrored his rude gesture back at him.
“And I can ride?”
He grinned widely. “As long as you have an escort. That’s me, by the way. They wanted someone responsible.”
“I’m doomed. You realise that shit is totally on its head, if they think I’m the loose cannon, and you’re the good boy?”
He snorted, heading for the door.
“Don’t make me carry you out there, asshole. I’ve been stuck inside almost as much as you.”
Yeah, boo fucking hoo. At least he was allowed to get his dick wet, even though I still didn’t think I could. Had I tried wanking every fucking night I’d been stuck inside? Yeah, of course. Notwaking up with a boner was the most freaky part, like even in my sleep, he was out of commission.
Maybe a return to everything else familiar was what he needed, to remember who the fuck I was.
Torch wasn’t heading for the stairs though. He was heading in the direction of the infirmary.
“What’s going on?” I asked him, as I followed him.
“Doc has your test results. Let’s find out if you can go get laid too.”
Jesus, I fucking wish.
Doc had good news.
“All clear. Either she’s a careful whore, or she wrapped you up. Either way, no diseases.”
Thank fuck for that. “So I’m off fucking celibacy watch too?”
He smirked. “Should I pre-warn Chrissy for you? I mean, you’ve got more than a week’s worth to give her.” My face dropped, and he caught it, damn intuitive bastard. “Uh, Torch. There’s one other thing I need to run through with him, but, you know… privacy, and all that shit.”
Torch snorted. “I’ll be downstairs.” Once he left, the doc closed the door.
“How do I put this, without sounding like a prying asshole…” He stared intently at me, and I knew exactly what was on his mind. Shit, don’t push me, man.
“Don’t ask me that.Please.”
He sighed. “That’s the answer I was worried about. You’ve tried… uh… visual aids?”
Jesus. I rubbed my hand over my face, feeling a new wave of shame, this time because I seem to be fucking impotent now.
“Of course I have.”
He sat down, staring at me with those oddly caring eyes of his.
“Brother, you know this is probably a psychological thing, right?”
I groaned, clenching my fists at my sides, releasing them again with a slow breath. It’s not like that fucking helped me right now, did it? A limp dick was still a limp fucking dick.
