My gut drags me forward without my brain’s permission, one shuffled step after another until I’m face to face with Ryne. I tuck my hands into my armpits and open my mouth to ask him what he’s doing here at nearly midnight, but he speaks first.
“She’s a pretty worthless watchdog.” He chuckles again when she yips quietly and nestles up into his hand until he scratches her under the chin.
I glare at both of them in turn. “You came here in the middle of the night to tell me my puppy sucks?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. I didn’t say she sucks. She’s cute. Just not very intimidating.”
I uncross my arms and rub my biceps absentmindedly. “Maybe she’s just not feeling very threatened. You ever think of that?”
Ryne cocks his head to the side and studies my body. My cheeks heat when I remember I’m shirtless, barefoot, and in a pair of old scruffy boxers with little taco icons on them. “Then she’s not very smart,” he retorts dryly while focusing on my stomach. His head snaps back up when I clear my throat.
I cross my arms again and glare at him. “You still didn’t tell me why you’re here in the middle of the night.”
Ryne smirks and reaches up to adjust his baseball hat, then changes his mind and pulls it off instead. He shoves the bill of the hat into his back pocket and runs his hands through his dark hair. It’s thick and a little bit messy and there’s not much I wouldn’t give right now to replace his hands with mine. He lifts his chin and nods his head back behind him.
“I was over at Tyler’s and saw you standing out here.”
“Oh.” Right. Tyler and I realized not long ago how close we live. I take a deep breath and ask the question again because I won’t let it go. “But why did you come over when you saw me?”
Ryne shakes his head and shrugs. “Honestly? I have no idea.”
That response is more real than any snarky sarcasm he could have thrown at me. I gesture toward the fire pit area. “Do you want to sit down?” Ryne’s eyes search my face, looking for what, I don’t know, and he nods silently. “Come on, Robin Stark.” I snap my fingers and she bounds over to me and walks by my side as Ryne and I head to the corner of the backyard where the fire pit is.
Ryne glances around me over to the puppy. “You a big G.O.T fan?” He nods toward her and I smile into the darkness.
“No, actually I’ve never even seen an episode.”
When we get to the fire pit I walk around to the other side of it, pull the top off, and press the ignition button. Flames pop up from the center as I set the lid down on the ground.
“You know that’s basically cheating. I’m not sure this actually qualifies as a fire pit here in the South.”
I laugh and sit down in the chair beside him, resisting the urge to scoot it closer. Robin Stark circles around us and then settles at Ryne’s feet. “It’s as authentic as it gets for people who moved here from an apartment in New York.”
“Fair enough. So if you’ve never seen the show how’d you end up with a dog named Robin Stark? I’m assuming it’s Robin because she’s a girl?”
“Yes. And she was a gift from Christopher, my…” My what? Christopher isn’t really an ex-boyfriend. More like a very complicated ex-mess-around-with-er, which sounds awkward so I just leave it at that. “He’s big into the show and named her.”
Ryne grunts and slouches back in his chair. He reaches behind him to yank the hat out of his pocket and tosses it aside in the empty chair next to him. A few seconds later he leans forward and props his elbows on his knees, turning his head to peer over at me. “Look, I don’t mean to sound like a dick but you’re really distracting right now.”
I sit up straighter, not sure if I’m affronted or how to take his comment. “How exactly?”
He chews on his thumbnail and sits back again. One of his knees starts to bounce up and down rapidly. “I have a thing for piercings.”
I settle back as excitement ignites inside of me. “What’s the matter, Ryne? See something ya like?”
His knee slows and comes to a complete stop, and he turns in his chair to face me head-on. “Jury’s still out.” Our eyes meet and the heat between us isn’t from the warm glow of the fire pit. Ryne bites his lip. “Do I make you nervous, Becker?”
I’m still lost in his eyes. “What?” He doesn’t repeat himself and I’m too confused to try to answer. After a few silent beats, my manners hit me again. “Do you want something to drink?”
“What kind of something?”
“Something age-appropriate because that's up there,” I point up to the middle left window on the back of the house. “That’s my parents’ room. They’re probably asleep but…” I shrug.
Ryne’s eyes flicker to the window and back. “Gotcha. Yes please.”
I hop up and turn toward him. “Would you mind watching the pup?” He waves me off. I jog inside to grab a couple of cans of pop and make a quick detour up to my bedroom to throw on some actual clothing. I don’t turn my light on and glance down at the backyard from my window. Ryne’s bent forward petting the puppy. She jumps up into his lap and gives him what looks like a rather slobbery kiss on the cheek. Is it pathetic I’m jealous of a dog right now? I grab the pop from the kitchen counter on my way back through and slip out the door. When I reach the fire pit I hand him the can. “Hopefully this kind of pop is okay. It’s all that’s cold right now.”
“Yeah, thispopis fine, thanks.”
