Page 58 of The Risk Taker

A muscle jumps in his cheek, and he sets the glass down harder than necessary. “I was drunk. It was a long night.”

“You were stone-cold sober,” I shoot back. “And we both know it.”

The silence stretches between us, only broken by water dripping from the faucet.

“I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Why?” I ask, my brows dipping. “Because it wasn’t true?”

“Because it was,” he grinds out, meeting my eyes. “And I don’t know what to do with that.”

I step toward him before I even think to stop myself. “Then maybe stop pretending it didn’t happen and figure out what the hell this is.”

He shakes his head, dropping his head. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Try not to disappear on me again,” I say. “Try looking at me.”

He lifts his eyes, meeting mine, and whatever is in his eyes makes my pulse race. His fingers brush the back of his neck, then drop again.

“I just—fuck.” His voice cracks on the word. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve spent my whole life being a certain kind of person. Following rules. Controlling everything. Knowing exactly who I am.”

I watch him struggle for words, watch the way his throat moves as he swallows.

“And you think wanting me ruins that?” I ask him.

He stops spiraling, lifting his brown eyes to mine and the look in his eyes makes it hard as fuck to breathe.

“I’m not you, Logan,” he says, catching me off guard.

I lift a brow. “Meaning?”

“I don’t just flirt my way through shit,” he says, looking up at me now. “I don’t get to act like it’s all a joke.”

A frown tugs at my lips as I take a slow step closer to him. “You think that’s all I do?”

He clenches his jaw, like the words are fighting to get out. I can practically see the war going on in his head.

“You’re killing yourself trying not to say it,” I murmur. “So say it. What do you want?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t,” he says, the word strained. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Just… let it go. Forget I ever brought it up.Please.”

The way he pleads almost makes me want to turn around and act like it never happened, but I can’t do that. Not anymore. “What do you want?” I ask again.

His throat works, but he doesn’t reply.

“Goddamn it, Hayes,” I bite out. “What. Do. You. Want?”

“Fuck.” He exhales hard, his eyes closing for a second like he’s trying to will the words back down. He opens his eyes a couple of seconds later and I think he’s going to tell me to let it go again, but then he blurts out the last words I ever thought I’d hear from his mouth. “I want to fuck you.”

My heart stutters, and for a second neither of us breathes. His eyes widen slightly as if he can’t believe he just said that.

Neither can I.

My brows lift, and I let out a slow breath. “I do the fucking.”

He stares at me, then lets out this low groan. “Fuck.”

My stomach flips, heat crawling up my neck. I want to hear him make that sound again, preferably with my hands on him this time and my mouth against his throat.