“Eggs and bacon okay with you?” he asks as he turns back to the ingredients he’s pulled from the fridge. “I wanted to make pancakes, but I didn’t realize they would require so many things?—”
“It sounds perfect,” I interrupt, halting his nervous rambling. “Anything I can do to help?”
“No, nope. I’ve got it covered.”
And covered he does.
Mostly.
The only casualty was the toast which he forgot about and severely over-toasted. It was cute watching him go from calmand collected to frazzled over a piece of toast. I kept offering to help, but he continued to refuse so instead I got to sit back and watch while sipping on my shitty coffee.
I don’t think I could have been happier if I tried.
Neither of us say a word as we eat in a comfortable silence. It’s not broken until I set my fork down to find Ryan watching me.
“What?” I ask. I lift my hand to my mouth. “Do I have food on my face or something? Ugh. That would be my luck.” I hastily reach for my napkin to wipe off whatever mess I’ve made, but his fingers circle my wrist, stopping me.
“No, you’re perfect.”
“Oh.” My voice comes out breathy.
“Isa…” he starts.
“I don’t know if I like the way you said my name,” I whisper.
“What are we doing here?” he asks, voice soft and the hesitation clear in his eyes.
“What do you mean?” I ask the question, even though I’m pretty sure I know what he means.
“We’re not supposed to do this, yet you came home with me last night. I finger fucked you against the apartment door.” I choke on air at his blunt wording but… he’s also not wrong. “And I’d quite like to do more. So much more. All of it. Which brings me back to my original question. What are we doing here?” The flicker in his expression briefly lets me see the truth beneath his mostly cool demeanor. He’s nervous. Perhaps even a bit afraid of my answer.
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “I think… we’re seeing how things go.”
“Seeing how things go,” he repeats. “But exclusively, right?”
I chuckle softly. “We’re exclusively seeing how things go.”
“Okay, yeah I can work with that.” He nods with determination. “Are you working the game tonight?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Unfortunately not. This is my last game off, so you’ll have Richard again.”
He drops his head to my shoulder with a groan. “Not Diiiick,” he whines.
I bark out a quick laugh, threading my fingers through his hair to lift his head up. “You’ll be fine. It’s probably for the best anyway.”
“The best how? To deprive me of seeing you again today?” He pouts like a child trying to get their way.
“This is probably still too new that one look at either of us will give away what’s going on,” I explain, flapping my hands around as if that helps to clarify things.
He gives me a panty-melting smirk, and I know I’m right about it being dangerous to see him at work tonight. “Oh, so you think you’ll want to tear my clothes off if you see me later?”
“Oh my god, shut up!”
“It’s the pants, isn’t it? I’ve heard they do wonders for my ass,” he carries on as if I’m not turning beet red.
“You’re so annoying, I don’t know why I ever thought this was a good idea.” I shove at him and try to get off my stool to stomp away, but he loops his arms around my stomach from behind, holding me in place.
“You thought ‘wow, this Ryan guy seems really great and determined, I should give him a chance.’ A decision I will forever be grateful for.” I roll my eyes as I let my body slump back into him. His breath ghosts over the shell of my ear as he leans in. “And for the record, firecracker, I’d want to rip your pantsuit off you later too, so you’re probably right.”
