Running For It by Allyson Lindt

Two

If there was a mood for so-completely-unsurprised-I-couldn’t-be-angry, that was me. At least, that was what I tried to convince myself of, as I sat at a table in the back of the ballroom, working through numbers and paperwork for the night. My shoes sat next to me on the table, taunting me with their cruel heels and the torture they’d done to my feet tonight.

The hotel staff had cleanup under control, and technically this could wait until morning. But it was going to take me a little while to shut off my brain, to keep it from focusing on the moment I was pretending I didn’t care about, so I might as well get something done while I was here.

The chair next to me slid out, and the familiar scent of ice and musk greeted me. I wouldn’t give Ramsey the satisfaction of looking up.

“How’s my favorite workaholic?” His voice was warm.

I grabbed my handbag and opened the side pocket.

“What are you doing?” Ramsey asked.

I handed him a small make-up mirror. “Letting you talk to your favorite workaholic.”

“She’s got a point.” Hunter dropped into a seat across the table.

Nope. I wasn’t getting sucked into banter with them, especially not after what happened earlier. “Have a good evening.” I closed my tablet and stood to leave.

“Wait.”

Ramsey’s hand on my arm stalled me as much as his request.

He rose as well. “Let me apologize.” The playfulness was gone.

I shook my head. “Please don’t. Not if it’s going to happen again.” And it would. “I’m not mad. I should have expected it.”

Ramsey tightened his grip. “It won’t. I was furious Debbie did this. She’s fantastic at her job, but she’s also new and doesn’t know all our rhythms yet. I’ve talked to her. It wasn’t right of her to hijack your event, and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Okay.” I tugged out of his grasp and crossed my arms. This was where I should leave, so why was I still here? Because all night, my defenses had been slipping. He’d taken steps to fix things, and this wasn’t specifically his fault. “So… how have you been?” I hid my wince at my weak question.

Hunter smiled. “Small talk. I think you broke her.”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Don’t offer unless you mean it.” Hunter winked.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my amusement. Sticking around put me in a tough situation, though. Hunter was right that I hated small talk, but I didn’t want to get sucked into a real conversation with them either. Just leave. “I caught Ravyn’s latest comic. I love where she’s taking the series.” Ravyn was Ramsey’s twin sister.

“She got the imagination in the family,” Hunter teased.

“I don’t need talent when I’m this good looking.” Ramsey gestured at himself. “Besides, you weren’t complaining about my imagination the other night.” His gaze was on Hunter. Were they flirting with each other?

I’d seen them together in the bedroom—the whole friends-with-benefits thing Ramsey and I had with Hunter—but not together, as in a couple. “Any secrets about where the story’s going?” I asked. “Insider information?”

Hunter covered his ears. “No spoilers.”

Damn them, I was enjoying this.

“You’d rather talk about my sister than about me?” Ramsey’s hurt was exaggerated.

“I figure that’ll get me more answers than asking about you.” Catty? A little.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he said.

I couldn’t ignore his sincerity. Then again, that had never quite been the problem. He had always been genuine with me, but the mask he put on for public consumption was a different person, and I didn’t like watching him flip that switch.

“Do you still play?” I asked. It wasn’t a secret that he could play guitar, but he didn’t tell anyone that when he was younger, he wanted to be in a metal band. He composed music, and Hunter wrote the lyrics.

“I do. In fact, we’ve been working on something for a couple of weeks. Stress relief.”

“Can I hear?” The question was out before I could consider that I was falling into this conversation and enjoying it. I wouldn’t take the request back, though. I always enjoyed their collaborations.

Ramsey leaned in, mouth near enough my ear I felt his breath on my skin, and sang. The lyrics were angsty, and his voice had that rough edge so many metal singers wished for. When Hunter sang as he stood, picking up the harmony, chills raced down my spine.

“I love it. It’s heartbreaking and beautiful.”

Hunter worked his jaw, then shook his head.

“What?”

“I was going to say, Your face is heartbreaking and beautiful, but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

I ducked my head. Your-face exchanges were typical for us back in the day, but the comment flustered me.

“Not used to seeing you at a loss for words,” Hunter said.

“I hope you’re pleased with yourself.” Great. Now I was starting to get flirty.

“Whoa. My best friend and my ex? Not. Cool.” Ramsey’s tone was light and playful, with zero trace of offense.

Any time I’d seen Ramsey in the past few months, Lyn or someone else was around. Having witnesses made it easier to stick to my resolve to keep my distance. But now, no one else was here.

This was half-fun, half-awkward, and all-enticing. Did I want to fall into it, or walk away? “You know you’d watch.” Fall into it, apparently, because now those tantalizing memories were back, refusing to be ignored while they sent desire spilling through me.

“He absolutely would,” Hunter agreed.

Ramsey hadn’t moved away from me since he finished singing. “I don’t know. It’s so hard to picture myself in that situation.” He pressed into my back. “A person never really knows what they’re going to do, until the situation actually presents itself.”

Hunter made a lassoing gesture—Jr. Rodeo Champion three years in a row—and mimed pulling himself closer to us. He wrapped an arm around my waist and dipped me. My squeal of surprise vanished when he paused with his lips a breath from mine.

My pulse hammered in my veins and roared in my ears.

Ramsey cleared his throat. “I don’t think I could watch.” His tone was impossible to decipher.

“Never bothered you before.” Hunter righted me, taking his time before pulling away.

Ramsey grasped my fingers and tugged, to spin me into his arms. He gripped the back of my neck and held my gaze. “Watching definitely wouldn’t work for me. I’d have to participate.”

I was one hundred percent heat and desire. “If you’re not careful, I might think the two of you are serious.” My voice came out thicker and huskier than I intended.

“What do I have to do to convince you we are?” Ramsey asked.

My breath caught. Goddess, I could drown in that gaze.

“I’ve got a room here for the night.” His voice was low. “Bed big enough for three.”

“We’re not getting back together.” I had to put that out there now, before I lost all grip on my senses.

Ramsey hovered his mouth near enough mine I felt his breath on my skin. “Tell me you don’t still feel that spark.”

“Just one night.” I was reminding myself as much as them.

“Not just.” Hunter was at my back. “It’ll be so incredible you won’t forget.”

I never had. I rose on my toes, to press my lips to Ramsey’s.

He gripped my neck harder, and crushed his mouth to mine. I gasped in disappointment when Ramsey broke away too quickly for my liking, but he didn’t let me go.

He pressed his forehead to mine. “We should continue this conversation upstairs,” he said in that same growly voice he sang in.

The sound and sentiment were a skilled touch, sliding over me. “If you insist.”

The three of us left the ballroom, walking side by side but not touching. I’d be wounded by that, but there was no reason to announce a casual hookup to the world. Besides, the anticipation that roared through me was wonderful at helping me ignore most everything except what came next.

The elevator ride up was quiet. Cool. From the outside, three friends sharing a car up to their respective rooms. The stroll down the hallway was the same.

Ramsey opened the door with a sleight of hand so smooth he would have made most magicians jealous, and let us in the room. I caught a glimpse of sprawling luxury, before his hands were on my cheeks and my back was against the wall. He kissed me hard, devouring my moans and clinging to me like I was his oxygen. Or that was me, arms around his neck and nails digging into his shoulders, clinging for all I had.