Page 68 of Pieces of Me

Rylan couldn’t help but react to Scott’s small but genuine smile, and he made a show of nodding reluctantly. “I guess I can struggle through it. Only for the views, of course,” he added, delighted when Scott’s grin widened. “But you’ll have to carry me down when I collapse and die somewhere along the way.”

“Deal. You need to go home and get your camera?”

Rylan canted his shoulder to show Scott his ever-present backpack. “Never leave home without it. But I don’t own any hiking clothes.” He waved his hand down his body, indicating his cargo shorts, T-shirt, and leather slides.

Scott chuckled. “Do you have any idea how much shit I’m comped from clothing companies every month? I have boxes and boxes of brand-new stuff. We can run by my place and find you something.”

Rylan’s mouth dropped open as he gaped at Scott incredulously. “If you think,” he sputtered, “I’m going hiking in some thong or a―a Speedo, you’re fucking crazy! I’ve already shown half of Phoenix my ass, thank you very much, courtesy of a certain pair of booty shorts.” He shuddered.

Scott threw his head back and laughed, the sound deep and rich. “Oh my God,” he wheezed. “Underwear is only a fraction of what I get. You’ll see.” He bit his lip as he looked Rylan up and down. “You don’t know how unbelievably hot you were in those shorts. If you hiked in them, I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

The teasing was gentle and unaffected, not that artificial flattery designed to deliberately stroke the ego; Rylan could tell by the warmth in Scott’s eyes, the way they crinkled at the corners as he smiled. It made heat flicker low in his belly, even as he wondered at the change from the night before, when Scott seemed determined to seduce him right into bed.

As if Scott read his thoughts, he sobered, crossing his arms over his chest. “I want to say I’m sorry about last night,” he said quietly. “I’m not used to being turned down flat, and I know I acted like a child who’d been told ‘no.’ Not a good look for me. I was way out of line putting the moves on you like that to begin with.”

Rylan smiled. “We were both a little revved up last night, I think. But if I’m going to work with you in a professional capacity, I can’t blur those lines.” He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Here I am acting like this club gig might win me the Nobel Prize or something, but the way I conduct myself on a job is important to me.” He expected Scott to chuckle derisively or roll his eyes, but instead Scott reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers over Rylan’s cheek.

“Start as you mean to go on. I know. And I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

Rylan was astounded. “You remember that, my mantra?” he croaked in disbelief.

Scott slipped on a pair of sunglasses, hiding his eyes. “I remember everything about you, Ry. You’re my best memory.”

His voice was so soft Rylan almost didn’t hear the last part, but when the words registered, they punched Rylan right in the gut, stealing his breath. His throat closed up and he couldn’t speak, but it didn’t matter since Scott had started walking toward his car again, this part of the conversation clearly at an end.

“You coming or not?” Scott tossed over his shoulder as he clicked his little car unlocked, and Rylan forced his body into motion, hurrying after Scott on slightly shaky legs.

“Yeah.”

Scott powered the convertible top down, and as they drove, the hot wind in Rylan’s eyes made tears run down his cheeks. He blinked them away, running his hands through his hair, noticing ruefully it already felt like a tangled rat’s nest. Scott, on the other hand, was cool and put-together, his black hair ruffling in the breeze and settling back down in perfect waves. The sun highlighted his cheekbones, his white T-shirt emphasized his deep tan. Mirrored sunglasses, a hint of stubble…the whole effect was casual and sexy.

“How―uh, how do you feel about me coming to Florida with you?” Rylan asked. “I could tell you were shocked to hear Corey say that.”

Scott lifted one shoulder in a shrug, keeping his eyes on the road. “I don’t mind at all,” he replied. “In fact, I’m sitting here thinking how nice it’ll be to have a familiar face around. You know?”

Rylan was surprised. “Really? I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”

Scott glanced at him, and all Rylan could see was his own face reflected back at him in the sunglasses. “Rylan, I haven’t been back to Florida since―well, since. I’ve been dreading it, the way it’ll make me feel.” His voice was even, but Rylan could see the tension in his jaw. “So yeah, I think it’ll be nice to have you there.”

Rylan was touched. “Then I’m happy to be there.”

Scott nodded, the white lines around his mouth easing a little. “Good.”

They made the rest of the drive in silence, making their way deeper into downtown Phoenix. Rylan’s forays around the city hadn’t led quite this far yet, and he gaped at the trendy restaurant and bar districts, all flanked with gleaming skyscrapers.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You live around here?”

In answer, Scott turned into a parking garage set underneath one of the high-rises, pressing a button on his rearview mirror that opened a metal gate. When the gate rumbled back, he deftly pulled into a parking spot with S.A. #1402 stenciled on the tire stop.

“Yep.” He grinned at Rylan, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head, his eyes dancing. “I’ve come a long way, baby.”

Rylan punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Well, I’m impressed,” he said. “I can’t wait to see the inside.”

Scott didn’t bother to put the top back up on the car, grabbing his duffle from the backseat and leading Rylan toward a set of elevators, where they rode up to a gleaming lobby.

“Mr. Ashworth.” An elderly man at the concierge desk nodded at them as they approached, and Scott heaved a theatrical sigh.

“George, I’ve asked you a million times to call me Scott. I’m too young and awesome to be a Mr. anyone.” His voice was light and teasing, and George lifted one eyebrow.