A server appeared at Ryker’s elbow. She glanced up from her notepad. “What can I get . . . ” Her lips parted.
Ryker leaned back in the booth and spread his arms over the back of the seat. “Hello, cariña.”
Gage smirked as the accent made a full reappearance.
“H-hello.” The server stared down at her notepad, and two bright spots of pink stained her cheeks.
Gage hadn’t gotten that reaction. But then, he was typical fare here at Classic Muscle.
They both waited a couple of moments for the server to ask Ryker what he wanted to order; however, it soon became apparent that there were no questions forthcoming from her.
Ryker took mercy on her. “I’ll have the brisket sandwich, please. And a coffee.”
Son of a bitch. He knew Gage loved that sandwich.
“Uh-huh,” said the server. Then she turned sharply on her heel and skittered away without having written anything on her notepad.
Gage chuckled. “You’ll never get what you ordered.”
Ryker smiled slowly. “Oh, she’ll remember.”
Gage shrugged. Ryker was probably right. Not only would he get his sandwich but probably some free fries and a number written on the napkin beneath a bright red lipstick kiss, too.
Ryker got that look in his eye again. The one that hinted he was about to grill Gage for all he was worth.
“So,” Gage blurted. “The librarian?”
Ryker leaned forward. “Ethel was one of a kind, my friend.” He shifted to one hip and began fishing around in his back pocket. “Matter of fact, her tip was astronomical.” He pulled out a roll of bills, and Gage’s eyes widened. “I’ll be happy to split it with you. You know, finder’s fee.”
Gage spotted several hundred-dollar bills in the tip. “Damn, son, you’ve got some downstairs mojo.”
Ryker smiled that slow smile again. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
But as Ryker peeled several bills from the roll and held them out, Gage found himself tucking both hands in his lap. “Nope.” He shook his head. “You did the work. You keep it.”
Ryker frowned. They’d had arrangements like this several times in their lives—especially when they’d both first started in the business. Gage never turned down a share. For that matter, neither did Ryker.
“Okay, what is going on with you?”
Gage shrugged again and shifted his fork to the side of his salad plate. “Nothing’s going on.”
Ryker was quiet so long that Gage eventually had to look up from his plate or die of curiosity. His friend’s usually readable face had the oddest expression. It made Gage want to roll his shoulders. “What?” he asked defensively.
“You’re in love.”
Gage’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “Are you fucking insane?” He looked around the restaurant to check if anyone had heard that. “You can’t just say shit like that.”
“Oh, God.” Ryker shook his head. “And you’ve got it bad.”
Gage held out a hand, palm down. “Okay, let’s just slow down a second.”
“What’s her name?”
Gage’s brows crashed together. “There is no her.”
“Cut the—”
“Ryker, I’m not seeing any—”
“Bullshit. Tell me her name.”
“I have a friend, but it’s not—”
“Gage, tell me her name, or so help me—”
“Fine! All right! It’s Cassidy! God damn it, are you satisfied?”
Gage’s voice echoed through the utterly silent restaurant. Several tables over, someone coughed.
The server, who Gage just noticed at Ryker’s side—who knew how long she’d been there—placed Ryker’s coffee in front of him, her lips pressed together.
“Very satisfied,” Ryker said. “Gracias, cariña.”
Gage grunted and scrubbed a palm down his face as the server walked away.
“So.” Ryker took a noisy slurp of his coffee. “Cassidy.”
Gage groaned toward the ceiling.
“Is she pretty?”
Pretty? What a lame-ass word to describe Cassidy’s looks. “Ryker, I’m trying to tell you it’s not like that.”
Ryker sat his coffee down with a thud. “Is . . . she . . . pretty?” he asked again, enunciating every word.
Damn it, there was no getting out of this. Gage closed his eyes for a second, then pulled in and released a long breath before opening them again. “I’ve never been more attracted to a woman in my life,” he confessed.
Gage braced himself for it: the lecture. He knew it was coming. Worse, he deserved it. He and Ryker, they didn’t get to have romance for themselves. They sold it for a living. Getting involved with someone was not only a dead-end street, it was a major no-no.
So, when Ryker smiled, Gage frowned. What had he missed?
“Do you laugh with her?” Ryker asked.
Gage pushed a breath through his nose. Do I laugh with her? He’d never laughed more. Never smiled more.
Ryker’s smile widened. “Well, well, well.” He took another sip of coffee. “When do I get to meet her?”
Gage leaned forward. “Ryker, you’re not helping. I’m a gigolo.” He lowered his voice on the last word. “She’s my fuck buddy. This is where you help me get my head on straight. Neither of us wants a relationship.”
Ryker tsked. “Want it or not, it looks like you’ve got one.”
Gage wrinkled his nose then caught himself doing it. When had he picked up that little affectation? “Oh, yeah. And it’s going to be really successful, too. She’ll kiss me good-bye as I head off to work. To fuck other people. We’ll be so happy.”
Ryker shrugged. “So, you quit. Everyone in this business quits sooner or later. You just found your later.”
“Quit?” Gage threw his hands wide. “And do what?” He flopped back against the seat. “Oh, yes, that fixed everything. Now she’ll kiss me on my cheek as I head off to do absolutely nothing, because I have no discernable skills other than providing multiple orgasms. I can’t do anything else, Ryker. You fucking know that!”
Gage’s breaths billowed in and out of his chest as though he’d just run a marathon. At least this time, he’d had the forethought to keep his voice down. No one seemed to be looking their way.
Nope, the only eyes on him were Ryker’s. And that was just about as bad as an entire restaurant full anyway.
“Wow,” Ryker said, his eyes wide.
“Just—” Gage blew out an exasperated breath as he shoved a hand through his hair. “Can we forget that just happened?”
Ryker shook his head. “That’s a big nope.”
“Of course it is.” Gage reached for his beer and tossed back the rest of it. Scanning the restaurant, he found their server and waved his hand, pointing at his empty glass. Fuck, he may as well order the sandwich at this point. No amount of time in the gym was going to fix this, though he’d happily run himself ragged after this nightmare of a conversation.
“No discernable skills, huh?”
“Ryker, we grew up together. You know that more than anyone.” Oh, thank God, the beer was making its way across the restaurant.
“I know no such thing.”
Gage looked at his friend and glared.
“Jesus, look at you.” Ryker shook his head. “Typical Gage.”
Now he really glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The server set his new beer down in front of him, and Gage immediately took a gulp.
Ryker leaned forward and propped his arms on the table. “If anything, you have the skill of keeping people the fuck away from you.”
Gage had to resist the urge to growl. “That’s not a skill.”
“It is the way you do it.” The server arrived with Ryker’s sandwich—and, yep, there was a mountain of free fries on the plate. Gage eyed everything with fervor while Ryker thanked her, and she walked away.
The very sight of it made Gage’s mouth water.
“I’m splitting this with you, are
n’t I?”
“If I let you eat your half, it will be a miracle.”
Ryker sighed heavily, but he was smiling as he cut the sandwich in two. He plopped half of it right on top of Gage’s wilted salad, then promptly waited until Gage had a mouthful of brisket before speaking again. “So, are we going to discuss how you fuck people for a living—literally—because it’s a way you can keep them from fucking you, figuratively?”
Gage nearly choked. Bastard. “This sandwich is sacred, man,” Gage said with his mouth still full. How dare Ryker try to make him eat it faster.
“I know it is.” Ryker tapped his wristwatch. “I’ve got about thirty solid seconds of free-talk time before you can disagree with me while you’re working on that bite.” He leaned forward. “So, listen up, Buttercup.”
Gage’s scowl seemed to do nothing to dissuade him.
“Our childhood was rough. As kids, we saw a side of humanity that we shouldn’t have had to see until we were older. If ever. We learned how to survive, but sometimes our method of survival isn’t healthy.” He gave Gage a pointed look. “Like when you keep every single person you encounter a solid dick’s length away.”
“Hey,” Gage said around his bite.
“It’s true and you know it.” Ryker’s eyes softened. “Gage, that’s not sustainable. Aren’t you tired?”
Gage couldn’t even shake his head with Ryker’s words pinging around in it like an air hockey puck. Just what the fuck was going on here?
Ryker wasn’t done. “And you’ve got plenty of skills. Off the top of my head, you’re a motherfucking wizard with numbers. Don’t pretend you haven’t calculated the caloric intake of that sandwich and your two beers, along with the grams of carbs, fat, and protein, and how long you’ll have to spend in the gym to work it off. And don’t pretend you didn’t do it in about two seconds flat.”
Gage’s sandwich turned into a lump in his mouth.
“And, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Your physique puts fitness models to shame. If you don’t think that takes skill and dedication, you’re fooling yourself.”
Gage reached for his beer and took a sip, finally able to swallow his bite. “Those things don’t matter,” he said hoarsely.
Ryker cocked an eyebrow. “Tell that to the hundreds of thousands of people who pour money into the diet and fitness industry every year, yearning to look just like you do.” Ryker jabbed a finger Gage’s direction. “The same skills we use in a bedroom with women—boosting self-confidence, making them feel good about themselves, giving them hope—those absolutely transfer. Into practically everything.” Ryker lowered his voice. “It’s called being a kind, decent human being. And it’s a skill that not a lot of people possess. As you and I both know very well.”
Gage swallowed, something dangerous, like hope, beginning to fill his chest. “Cassidy’s a kind, decent human being,” he heard himself say. “In a class I could never hope to compare to.” The things she was doing to make her voice heard in her profession inspired him on a daily basis. She was going to make a difference. But him?
“I find that hard to believe, but, Gage, if that’s true”—Ryker raised his eyebrows—“you just change whatever you have to. Get in that same class.”
Gage reached for another bite of his sandwich, his throat uncomfortably tight. “You’re a good friend, you know that?” he managed to say.
Ryker smiled. “I’m a good everything.”
Gage saluted him with his sandwich and took another bite. He needed to do something with his mouth pronto or more confessions would come spilling out, and wouldn’t that just be pathetic.
Ryker’s attention drifted to a spot over Gage’s shoulder, and his smile softened. “Well, if that isn’t the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.”
Gage cast a glance over his shoulder and immediately stiffened.
Cassidy’s here.
Feelings entirely unfamiliar to him filled him from his feet to the top of his head. He whipped back around, swallowing quickly and pointing at his friend. “Don’t you look at her like that.”
Ryker’s eyes widened along with his grin. “Is that Cassidy?”
Gage leaned back, relaxing suddenly. Her presence put him at ease for the first time since he’d put his butt in this seat. “On second thought, tell her she’s cute and little. I dare you.”
“Oh, she’s like that, is she?”
“She’s like more than you could ever imagine,” Gage said softly, feeling Cassidy drawing closer.
“Wow, you’ve got it bad.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Cassidy flopped down beside Gage in the booth. “Hey, guys.”
In a sudden flare of panic, Gage realized he was introducing Cassidy to Ryker. The man who made women lust after him with a mere glance.
Gage studied Cassidy as she glanced at Ryker. “I’m Cassidy,” she said, with no double take whatsoever.
The tension in Gage’s chest loosened.
“And I’m Ryker. Nice to meet you.” No hint of his accent.
Gage relaxed completely. Damn, caring about someone was exhausting.
Cassidy jerked her chin at Ryker’s plate. “Is that the brisket sandwich?”
With a chuckle, he pushed it across the table toward her then caught the server’s attention, which just so happened to have been already glued to him. She rushed right over.
“We’re going to need another brisket sandwich, please. And, Cassidy, what are you drinking?”
She wrinkled her nose, and right away, Gage could see Ryker found it just as endearing as he did. “Do you have Guinness on tap?” she asked.
The server nodded.
“Great,” Ryker said. “Two pints, please.” He turned his attention back to Cassidy. “I’ll join you.”
During the entire interaction, Ryker had spoken plainly, and Gage knew it was out of respect. His friend was showing them the side he showed very few. The server hadn’t even noticed the difference.
Ryker leaned back. “So, Cassidy.” He grinned. “What a pleasure to meet Gage’s only other friend.”
Gage lifted his beer to his lips. “Prick,” he muttered before taking a sip.
“Huh, there are two of us?” Cassidy cocked her head. “It’s starting to get crowded in this club.”
“We can share membership,” Ryker said. “That’s okay with me.”
Cassidy wrinkled her nose again. “Damn, I was ready to arm wrestle you for it.”
Ryker’s grin widened. Cassidy had passed some kind of test, apparently.
The server returned, setting a pint of dark brown brew in front of each of them. Ryker nodded his thanks to the server and picked up his glass. “To new friends.” He extended it toward Cassidy.
Cassidy cocked a brow. “Slow down, speed racer. To new people.”
Ryker canted his head, and Cassidy clinked her glass against his. They both took a drink, then Cassidy reached for the sandwich Ryker had surrendered to her and took a bite.
Ryker looked her over, an expression of fondness covering his face. It made Gage’s throat tight. His foster brother was likely to spew uncomfortable truths at any moment.
“So, Cassidy here works in the gaming industry,” Gage blurted. His voice had been incredibly loud.
Cassidy paused her chewing and raised an eyebrow at him.
Interest lit Ryker’s face. “Do you? In what capacity?”
Cassidy held up one finger while she finished her bite. “All of them. Writing, coding, concept sketching.”
Genuine respect crossed Ryker’s face. He flashed Gage a brief, approving smile while Cassidy took a drink of her beer.
Gage smirked. I told you she was incredible.
Ryker gave him a return expression that clearly restated his Wow, you’ve got it bad opinion. Gage flipped him the bird.
“So, what do you do, Ryker?” Cassidy asked.
Gage felt his shoulders tighten, but Ryker just shrugged easily. “Same thing Gage does.”
/> “Oh.” Cassidy set her sandwich down. “Cool.”
Gage frowned. There was something off in Cassidy’s voice. Beneath the table, he spread a palm over her knee and gave it a soft squeeze. She looked at him and produced a tight smile.
Ryker cleared his throat, and both Cassidy and Gage jumped in their seats. Huh. I wonder how long we’d been staring at each other?
“I’m going to hit the john.” Ryker slid out of the booth. “Be right back.” He gave a pointed look Gage’s way, making it more than obvious that he was giving them a moment alone. Which meant he’d picked up on Cassidy’s mood shift, too.
As soon as he walked away, Cassidy sighed and leaned into Gage, resting her head on his shoulder.
A lump formed in Gage’s throat. He rested his cheek against her hair. “You okay?”
She shook her head once, and Gage knew that simple admission had taken a lot of effort. “Rough day.” She pressed her nose against his T-shirt and inhaled, then straightened, meeting his gaze. “Does he know about . . . last night?”
Was this why she was a dimmer version of herself? He shook his head. “It’s not mine to tell, so I didn’t. If you want me to, though, I can as soon as he comes back.”
“Not yours to tell,” Cassidy repeated in a dead voice.
“Not that it’s anything you should be ashamed of or anything,” he tacked on quickly. “You were the victim of a crime. None of that is on you. I just didn’t want to tell him without your permission.”
She frowned and blinked down at her Guinness.
Was she going to cry? His chest felt like it could rip open. “Ah, fuck, I messed up, didn’t I?” Damn it, of course she would want to talk about what had happened to her last night. That was the whole purpose of inviting her out here. He should have told Ryker right away. Filled him in. Ryker was so good with people, he’d have known just what to say to help her through this—
“I’m back.” Ryker slid into the booth, took one look at the both of them, and reached for his wallet. “But I have to jet. Sorry, kids. Fun’s fun and all, but . . . ”
Cassidy sniffed and raised her head. “It was great to meet you, Ryker.”
He stood and smiled down at her. “Same here.” He jerked his head toward the exit. “Walk me to the door, Gage. I have one last item of business to talk about.”
Stiff Competition Page 13
