Page 30 of See My Words

Rylan smiled, enjoying his enthusiasm.

“There’s gonna be a huge outdoor pool for summertime theme parties and a hot tub and a stone fireplace with conversation pits around it for the colder months.”

Rylan inched closer, letting his fingers brush Scott’s arm. “Oh, I can’t wait. You gonna let me rub oil on you while you’re sunning yourself in some itty-bitty swimsuit?”

He gulped, trying to rein in his body’s reaction to the thought of straddling Scott while he lay stretched out on a lounger in the bright sunshine. Rylan would massage lotion into the muscles of his back, his shoulders, all that mouthwatering golden skin just for him…

When he peeked up at Scott, he didn’t see an answering heat in his eyes, but instead a bleakness that tore at Rylan’s insides.

“I wouldn’t count on any of it,” Scott said quietly. “The MC₂ endorsement was supposed to be our ticket to opening Spectrum II. But since I fucked that up—”

Rylan squeezed his bicep. “I really wish you’d stop taking all the responsibility for Corey’s success on your shoulders. You—”

“I owe him, Rylan,” Scott interrupted. “I owe him. And I let him down.”

“You don’t owe anybody anything except doing your best, and I’m pretty sure he’s had that from you and then some.” Rylan looked him in the eye. “If he doesn’t see and appreciate that, that’s his problem, not yours.”

Scott processed that and dismissed it, giving a careless little shrug. “I just have to try harder from now on, that’s all, make it up to him somehow. I won’t let his dream die because of me.”

He shook Rylan’s hand off his arm and headed toward the club’s conference room.

“Y’all okay?”

Teena’s voice at his shoulder startled Rylan, and he gave a little squeak before turning to face her, the words he was going to say dying right on his lips.

She was wearing a tiny pair of denim cutoff shorts, Daisy Duke style, along with an off-the-shoulder black crop top emblazoned with the words “Wet Dream” written in rainbow glitter. Fishnet stockings and thigh-high boots completed the look, and Rylan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the belly-button ring winking at him as she put her hand on her hip and struck a pose.

“Jesus.” Rylan felt a little guilty for staring so blatantly. “Uh—damn, Teena. You—look so—” He gave up on eloquence and just said helplessly, “You’re hot.”

“Mmm, I love making the cute boys all tongue-tied and shit,” she purred, turning in a languid circle and showing off.

“Well, you steal my breath away. Gorgeous.”

Teena preened for another moment and took a step closer to Rylan, her voice turning serious. “So how is he?”

Rylan sighed. “Physically, he’s fine. Got the wires off yesterday. His jaw is sore, and he still has to eat soft foods, but for the most part, he’s okay. Emotionally, well, he keeps saying he’s letting Corey down, that he ‘owes’ him. Blaming himself for everything.” Rylan pounded his fist on his thigh in frustration. “God, some things never change.”

Teena shook her head, her bangle earrings winking in the light. “It’s complicated, sweetie. Corey took a chance on Scott—on us—and we do owe him. I don’t know where either of us would be today if it wasn’t for him.”

“I get that, Teena, I do. But my question is, how long is he going to have this hold on you? How long until this fucking debt is considered repaid?”

Teena didn’t reply, and Rylan went on, “Scott is fantastic at what he does, and he has every reason to be proud, but this—” He gestured around the club. “—can’t last forever. Shit, what just happened to him should be a goddamn wake-up call, right? And not just for Scott, for Corey, too. Putting all his eggs in Scott’s basket and making him responsible for every success and failure is so unfair I can’t even wrap my mind around it.”

“Rylan—”

“What if Scott, plain and simple, hadn’t gotten the MC₂ endorsement just because they chose someone else? There was no iron-clad guarantee any way you look at it, and Corey implying he’s a failure because of circumstances totally beyond his control is getting my panties in a twist.”

Teena propped her arm on Rylan’s shoulder, leaning against him. “It’s not personal, though. It’s business, baby, and I think what it comes down to, Scott is so amazing, it’s hard for everybody to remember sometimes that he’s human.”

“Fuck business. He’s human, all right, and apparently shit is allowed to happen to everyone but him.” Rylan grimaced. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Teena’s cheek. “Sorry to vent. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?”

An unfathomable look crossed her face. “No, that’s where you’re wrong, Rylan. Take it from me, and Scott, for that matter. What doesn’t kill us just…doesn’t kill us.” She pulled away from him. “Gotta get back to work. See ya later, love.”

Rylan wandered in search of Scott, spying him standing in the hallway outside the conference room with Corey.

“Pete will stay the host of Fantasy Friday until further notice,” Corey was saying as Rylan approached. “You know you’re not up to standards.”

Rylan saw a muscle tick in Scott’s jaw before he made a visible effort to relax. “Yeah, I know.”