Bad Boy Ink (Get Ink'd #5) - Ali Lyda Page 0,45

Instead, Bryce said something that surprised me.

“I haven’t hacked in a long time,” he admitted.

“You’re twenty-seven,” I shot back. “What’s ‘a long time’?”

He gave me some serious side-eye. “Since I discovered how much it can hurt people. I always assumed that if someone had the money in the first place, they couldn’t miss it that much after, you know? Not if they had enough of it to spare.”

Uh, yeah, I knew. It was the whole foundation of my moral gray scale. I nodded.

Bryce swallowed. “Well, I was wrong. I’ve seen the devastation it can cause. So, I miss the challenge, too, and proving to myself that I’m the best, sure. But…”

“But now you’re on the straight and narrow.” I supplied for him. Which I got, sure. But there was that hook of something sticky in my throat that I didn’t like, because it almost felt like guilt. Fortunately, Bryce was there to save me from delving too deeply into it.

“I wouldn’t say I was on the straight and narrow,” he started.

I threw a gummy bear at him. “Do you ever stop being a dick?”

But I was smiling, and so was he.

“You know, for being total rivals, we have a whole lot in common. I mean, not the money or your snotty privilege,” he said with a wink. “But my parents didn't want me either, at least not for who I wanted to be. Homophobes fucking suck. I found peace in computers because I always knew what to expect from them. And they didn't care who I wanted to kiss.”

We stared at each other as the connections were made, solidified, becoming a larger foundation of something between us. I didn't know what exactly was forming, but I couldn't for the life of me find any of the initial hate I'd felt for Bryce. I barely even felt any of the fear.

At this point, the sun was starting its descent and the air was growing crisper by the second. We'd gotten so caught up in our conversation that time had flown like startled birds.

“I think we were supposed to finish the project today, right?” I asked, feeling a little guilty for having enjoyed the conversation enough that I'd forgotten why I was there.

Bryce looked at the clouds, which were shifting to the rose gold colors of sunset. “Eh, I bet we’re still miles ahead of the other kids in class. I imagine they’re still working through basic decryption. We do need to wrap it up, but I don’t think we need to be worried just yet.”

It was quiet in the park, most of the crowds having dispersed for dinner or home. The twinkling of the first few stars caught my attention. Had a whole afternoon with Bryce really just happened? One that hadn’t been filled with bickering?

When all our things were gathered, we started walking. The distance between us was closer than I usually allowed, close enough that I could imagine the sensation of his arm brushing mine.

“When you aren't spending all of your time flirting, you're pretty fun to talk to as well,” I teased. “I mean, today was practically tolerable.”

Bryce did bump me then, a jesting nudge that left lingering tingles and a spike of desire for more contact. “Practically tolerable? That’s pretty high praise, coming from you. I can’t decide if that means I should try harder to move into actually tolerable or go the other direction, back to can’t-stand-to-be-near-each-other land.”

“Definitely actually tolerable,” I said, meaning to make it sound like a joke. It didn’t. It came out too soft, like a suggestion. Or a question. Asking for...more?

What more could I want from Bryce? Don’t answer that question. This message was shot from my brain straight to my very interested dick.

As we walked toward the park exit, I asked, “So when should we finish this?”

‘This’ meaning the case, not ‘this growing of feelings that I am completely incapable of dealing with’.

Bryce rubbed the back of his neck and looked at me sheepishly. “I have all of next weekend off. We could wrap up the case and build our presentation at my place, if you want. It would be quiet and without distractions.”

Alone. With Bryce. With a bed in the next room. Again, the kiss he’d planted on me at work played over in my mind. It had been a good kiss. Fucking phenomenal. If he was that good at kissing on a whim, he was probably out-of-this-world good at other things. My skin itched, and I scratched at my