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I’m fucking melting.

“Shit.” He checks the time on his phone. “We’re due at work in an hour.”

“I know.” But I don’t care. Not when he’s right there. Not when the room smells like him. When I smell like him.

We’re in the same bed because Dean invited some woman over. Occupied the living room and thus the couch.

Because Ryan was unwilling to sleep in either his parents’ or Dean’s bed.

But there’s still an intimacy to his body next to mine.

Nobody sees me without makeup.

Nobody sees him in his glasses.

He stretches his arms over his head. The gesture pulls his shirt up his stomach, showing off inches of taut abs. “You want eggs?”

“Yeah. Thanks. I have time to shower?”

“We need to leave in thirty or we’ll be late.”

“You’re an owner. You can be late.”

He smiles. “Yeah. But you’re an employee. You can’t.”

“You won’t put a word in with my boss?”

“No. He’s too much of a dick.”

“True.” I roll onto my side. Memorize every line of his face. “Did you make sure to get me time off to go to Maui?”

“He threw a fit, but I made it happen.”

“Did he?”

Ryan smiles as he nods. He tosses his t-shirt over his head. Finds another in his dresser. Bends to grab a pair of jeans and black socks.

No boxers.

He doesn’t wear boxers.

He’s not wearing anything under those jeans.

Is that ever going to get old?

“You need to know something, Leigh.” He turns back to me.

“Yeah?”

“This—” He taps his glasses. “Is between us.”

“Lots of people wear glasses.”

He shakes his head.

“They look good.”

Again, he shakes his head.

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