Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

Riley

It was now or never.

“I, uh... came across something yesterday,” I said, my entire body shaking like a leaf.

Eric’s eyebrows furrowed with concern, and I let out a deep breath.

“I saw you. Online, I mean...” I said the words, and the moment they left my mouth I felt relief.

But that relief soon dissipated as I watched Eric’s smile falter, as I watched his furrowing brows tighten, and his shoulders sink.

He didn’t deny my words, or try to refute them.

But the sight of his sadness pulled at my heart and all I wanted to do was hug him.

But I was frozen in place, watching him.

“I can explain...” he said softly.

“I don’t know if you need to, but...”

“I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. I worried that maybe?—”

“What?” I asked, my voice faraway as I let myself get lost in his sapphire gaze, his youthful effervescence.

“I was worried you might... you know... want to stop whatever... this is.”

“What is this?” I asked curiously, motioning between us. “Because ever since I met you, I haven’t been able to define what this is. We’re friends, I thought at first, but ever since the weekend, since the hotel, I?—”

My words were jumbled in my brain as I tried to make sense of them, as emotion plagued me.

“I have friends. I don’t feel a fraction for them, what I feel for you.” I looked at him with a mixture of fear and hope.

Would he understand?

That he was worth it?

That despite the obstacles in our path—our jobs—that maybe this was fate?

“Say something,” I pleaded, watching him bite his lip. “Say I’m crazy, and we can forget all of it. The games, the sex... Tell me you don’t feel anything, and we can just be friends.”

Eric’s lips twitched at the words, his eyes sparkling with the beginnings of a somber mist.

“I don’t want to be friends, Riley. I can’t be friends with you,” he said firmly.

“Oh,” I said, feeling the worst rejection I think I’d ever felt in my life.

“I can’t be friends with you when you’re all I think about when I’m alone. Just me. I can’t be friends with you when every time I’m near you I?—”

He let out a deep sigh as my heart threatened to skip a beat.

“I should have told you the truth, about me. About what I did , but honestly, my experience in life taught me as soon as I did tell someone what I did, they peaced the fuck out, and I didn’t want you to peace the fuck out,” he said, twirling his straw in his glass. He looked at the cards, then at me as our waitress dropped off my beer.

“It was selfish, I know that. But when it comes to you I can’t help my selfish desire. To be whoever you want me to be. To be wherever you are.”

“Eric...” I breathed his name like the prayer it truly was.

“The other night, that was the last straw, just so you know. After I...”

The silence spoke volumes as we both caught one another’s gaze, and he sucked in a breath.

“I’d been performing a long time before I met you, and I don’t regret doing it for as long as I had. I only regret not ending it sooner, before I?—”

“What?” I asked, leaning closer, hanging on his every breath, his every word.

Waiting for the words I dared to hope to hear.

“Before I fell in love with you.” He said the words boldly, confidently, and my heart threatened to beat right up out of my chest.

I pushed away from the table, and rose to my feet. The look in his eyes killed me, because I knew he thought I was going to be like the others. I was going to walk away.

And in all reality and truth, I should have.

But I loved him too.

And love... it endures. It fights and it dances, and it wins and it loses.

But it always persists, even in the darkest of hours.

I moved toward him slowly, and he stood of his own accord, ready for an argument or defense, neither of which he’d need.

Because I knew as I looked at him, that he was more than what he displayed to the world.

I took his face in my hands, imploring his gaze with my own. I was well aware of our public display, and I didn’t care.

I only wanted to soothe this man’s worries, to show him I wasn’t going to run.

I wanted to double down on our bets. Play the long game.

“What you do... it’s not who you are. I know that better than anyone,” I told him, rubbing my thumb along his jaw.

Eric looked up at me with glassy blue eyes. “You do?” he asked, his breath shaky. Vulnerable.

I nodded, letting my thumb brush over his lower lip. “You are a cocky, pain in the ass pretty boy who hates to lose,” I said with a grin. “Whose voice is like velvet, and who I can’t stop thinking about.”

Eric parted his lips as a soft sigh escaped, settling his shaky hand on my hip.

“Besides, you still have yet to beat me at anything,” I said with a smirk.

“Is that so?” Eric said, licking his lips.

I nodded. “I believe the score is Eric zero, Riley three.”

Eric shook his head, grunting in response. “We’ll see about that.”

I swiftly tucked my finger under his chin, tilting his head up as I lowered mine, capturing his lips with my own.

Eric did not fight me, nor did he resist my advance.

I steadied him with my left hand as he sank against me, lifeless in my arms, under my ministrations. He parted his lips, and I desperately devoured his kiss, stroking his tongue with mine. My cock twitched, and he let out a small laugh.

“Maybe the score is Eric two , Riley three,” he drawled against my lips.

“How so?” I asked as we broke away from each other’s maddening kiss.

“Well, I certainly won where your cock is concerned. And perhaps your heart.”

I smiled, shaking my head as he took his seat, crossing his legs like the cocky asshole he was.

And I took his bait.

I’d always take his bait, I realized. Because I loved playing with him just as much as he loved to rile me up.

“Yes, well, the night is still young. Perhaps there will be more victories in both of our cards.”

Eric grinned wickedly. “Let’s sweeten the stakes then. You win bingo, I’ll sing like a canary for you and everyone here, whatever song you chose.”

I shrugged. “Hmmm... I’m thinking Taylor Swift, or Axe 2 Grind...” I mused, flashing him with a grin of my own.

Eric rolled his eyes. “If I win bingo...” His voice was dark, inviting, and sinfully sweet. “If I win, you have to let me draw you like one of your French girls. And by that, I mean naked,” he said with a shrug.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Really Eric? You want to be the Jack Dawson to my Rose?” I laughed.

“Well, I wasn’t sure you’d get the reference old man , but surely as a professor of art , you are well acquainted with the male form and how it is... inspiring, no?” he said, gleefully attempting a horrid French accent.

But all stereotypes aside, it was kind of funny, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Deal,” I said as I took my seat and the MC took the stage to start calling numbers. But as far as I was concerned, I’d already won more than the game.