Four Letter Word (Love Logic #2) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,14

he asks. Whatever he might’ve said, he’s not disinterested in me, he just thinks this whole situation is too complicated. I can work with that. I give him a flirty grin, setting down the beer I’m holding and leaning over the bar and lowering my voice to a throaty growl.

“Meet me at Java at noon tomorrow and you’ll find out.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and I bite back a groan. Fuck, I want to taste him again.

He gives a sharp nod, the corner of his lips quirking up in a half-smile. Then, he turns and walks away, leaving me staring after that perky ass of his, hugged tight by his jeans.

He returns to his group of friends at their usual table, and when he does, I catch the one he leaves with a lot glaring at me. I’m sure that’s one of the guys he’s in love with, and I can certainly see the attraction. He’s a little corporate for me, but good looking all the same.

He’s wearing a suit like he just came from work, his hair neatly styled and his face clean shaven. On his wrist, he has a watch that likely cost more than my childhood home; it flashes in the light as he puts an arm over Bishop’s shoulders.

I watch their interaction with interest for a few moments. Bishop lets him touch but not for long before shrugging him off and putting some distance between them. This makes pretty boy frown, but he recovers quickly. I wonder what the story is there, and I’m really curious about who the other man is that Bishop mentioned. Is he Executive Ken Doll like this one? Maybe that’s his type, and I was simply a brief walk on the wild side. So many questions without any answers, but hopefully he’ll show up for coffee tomorrow, and we can sort some of it out.

Bishop

I swear I can feel Riot’s eyes on me all night long, and I can’t stop thinking about how good it felt to have his hands and mouth all over me last week. But every time I glance at the bar, he’s helping another customer or bent over seeming to write something down, so maybe I’m imagining his eyes on me. Maybe I’ve been thinking about him all week, and I haven’t crossed his mind once. Except...he wants to meet for coffee tomorrow. What can he possibly want to talk about?

“Right, Bishop?” Hudson says, drawing my attention back to the conversation that I’ve completely missed while I was daydreaming about the hot as fuck bartender and all his interesting piercings.

“Um, yeah,” I agree, forcing a smile and reaching for my drink.

Pax arches an eyebrow at me and smirks. “You have no idea what you just agreed to.”

“What? Of course, I do,” I bluff.

“Shh, don’t spoil my fun, man,” Hudson says, and all our friends laugh.

“I definitely missed something,” I admit before I dig myself too deep.

“Mmm, I can see what was so distracting,” Alex says, craning his neck to ogle Riot. Hudson follows Alex’s gaze and scowls, inching closer to me in an odd display of possession that I’ve never seen from him.

Whatever has gotten into Hudson, I’m sure it won’t be long before a group of hot college boys walk by and draw his attention. But is it even fair for me to be jealous over Hudson’s attention when I hooked up with Riot last week? Not to mention the fact that I’m greedy enough to love both of my best friends.

After a few more drinks and half-heard conversations, it’s past time to call it a night before I do something stupid.

“I think I’d better take off,” I say, tossing cash down on the table to tip our waitress and standing up.

“Boo,” Seph complains.

“I think it’s about time we head home too,” Pax agrees, giving his boyfriend a hungry look that earns a deep red blush.

“You’re all getting old and boring,” Seph complains.

“I’ll stay out longer,” Alex offers, and she claps happily.

“Good, we can scope out some hot nerds together.”

“Night, guys.” I wave at my friends and force myself not to look at the bar as I make my way toward the exit.

The night is quiet as we step outside. It’s peaceful, like no one in the world exists right now. I stop and take a deep breath of the cool air, letting it settle the alcohol sloshing around in my stomach.

“Bish, hold up,” Hudson says, wrapping his thick fingers around my bicep