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"Me?" I feign offense. "What could I possibly be up to?"
"Something."
"You worked with her yesterday."
"Yeah."
"And?" I ask.
"She didn't mention wanting to kill you." His gaze shifts to Chloe. She's sitting behind the counter, working on a sketch. "Is that 'cause you're doing your job or cause she's not the type to narc?"
I shrug.
Ryan shakes his head. "You really think your bullshit fools me?"
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes, yeah. But not most times." He laughs. Steps backward as he slings his bag over his shoulder. "You're staring at her."
"At her tits."
"No. At her." He smiles. "You like her or something?"
"I haven't liked a woman since high school."
"She went to our high school."
"Wasn't her."
"Don't believe you."
"It wasn't."
"Uh-huh." His smile widens. "Damn, Dean. Leighton is gonna flip—"
"I don't—"
"I don't believe you. But it doesn't matter. You can't. You're her boss. It's out of the question."
"Of course."
"Of course." He shakes his head. "Like you aren't picturing her naked."
"I can picture a woman naked then not fuck her." Or recall a past fuck. But Ryan doesn't need to know that.
"You put money on that?"
"You're picking up my bad habits."
He holds out his palm. Copies my pay up gesture. "A hundred bucks says you're gonna try to fuck her."
"Excuse you?"
"Yeah?"
"Try?"
He nods. "Not every woman finds you charming."
