“Put on your show, sweetheart; let’s see what you like.” He said, relaxing his whole body into the softness of her couch. There was an empty seat, but Lisa could still feel him radiating heat with his legs spread wide.
“Okay, but don’t complain! Asian dramas are my one weakness, and I’ll kick you out if you say one negative word.” She warned.
“Youroneweakness...” he flashed a smile.
She pressed play on one of her favorite dramas, with minimal romance but all the swoony heart-flutter feels and a great plotline about found family and connection.
She kept sneaking glances at Ryan to see how he was reacting to the show. His side profile was so sharp, with a jawline that could cut glass, and she knew right away she needed to stop staring if she wanted to stay calm.
About twenty minutes in, he sat forward, resting his arms on his thighs and letting his clasped hands dangle between them. “Fuck me, I didn’t know I’d have reading subtitles homework,” he chuckled. “And this is what you watch all the time?”
“Predominantly. But, Ryan...” she waited until he cast a side glance her way. “I don’t need the subtitles on.” She poked her tongue into her cheek. He pulled a face and switched back to the TV. “You’re an overachiever.”
Forty-four minutes later, once the show ended on a mini cliffhanger, she hit pause.
“What’s gonna happen to that guy? Does he fall off the roof?”
“I guess you’ll have to find out by watching the next episode. Another time, though, I’m tired.”
“That means you’re inviting me again. Accepted.” He shamelessly smirked.
Before Ryan put his boots on, Lisa’s phone rang. Seeing it was Nina, she answered.
“Hey, Nina. Anything wrong?”
“No, babe. Just checking you got home.”
“Of course. Where else would I be?” Turning to Ryan, she put a finger to her lips for him to remain quiet, but he proved he was a disobedient slut-puppy when he smirked and announced, “I’ll load the dishwasher, sweetheart.”
Oh, that little brat.
She pulled a face at him as she listened to Nina’s audible inhale.
“Is Splice there in the house? He’s loading your dishwasher?”
Going on the offensive, as any decent best friend would do when cornered, Lisa exclaimed, “You were the one who pushed me to get into his truck!”
“Yeah, to bring you home, not to invite him in! What’s going on? Why is he loading your dishwasher?”
“Ryan made some food earlier.”
“Splice cooked?!”
“Are you going to repeat everything I’m saying?” laughed Lisa, and then, before she knew it, a muscular bare arm came around her front, and Ryan plucked the phone out of her grasp, pressing speakerphone.
“Nina, you’ve got me.”
“Why are you in my friend’s house, Splice? Don’t play any of your charms on her!” Nina cautioned.
Looking directly at Lisa while he spoke to Nina, he said, “Who do you think taught me the charms I have, hm?”
“Oh my fucking God,” Nina yelled.
“Oh my God,” Lisa groaned, her hand creeping up to her throat, scandalized that he’d even dare say it. But the twinkly-eyed monster was smiling at her.
She didn’t blink, still locked in his gaze. Lisa felt totally exposed, glued to the spot in her living room, her skin burning up.
“You don’t have to protect Lisa from me, Nina.”
