"Ididn'thateit," he admits in a rush. There. He said it. The guy—Zane. Right. Zane's eyes had flicked over to him, appreciative. Appraising. Unsubtle. Brazenly obvious as he'd checked Eddie out, and Eddie's belly had gone hot, his skin crackling with electricity, and he'd gulped at the shockingly intense physical reaction his body was having and could think nothing except for I need to get out of here.

He has no excuse. No explanation.

“Oh,” Buck says. “I didn’t, um. That’s—that’s cool, if you. Do you, or, uh. I won’t call them, but if you want, I can give you his number?”

“No,” Eddie says, too fast.