Page 54 of Power Play

Ryan wasn’t supposed to look that closely.

“Most people pay attention to the useful parts.”

“What parts are those?”

“The grades. The clothes. Whether I remembered everything I was supposed to remember.”

Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Those aren’t the useful parts of you.”

I looked at him again. “What are?”

“The part that snorts when you laugh hard enough.”

My mouth fell open. “That happened once.”

“It happened today.”

“You were supposed to forget.”

“I don’t forget things I like.”

Heat spread beneath my skin.

Ryan lifted his hand again, this time slower, and tucked my hair behind one ear. His knuckles brushed my cheek deliberately.

“What else?” I asked.

His eyes darkened. “You really asking?”

“I asked.”

For a moment, he simply looked at me, and the silence did something strange to the room.

“You’re funny when you stop trying to be polite. You get mean when you’re comfortable. You sit on your legs until your feet go numb and then act personally betrayed when you can’t stand. You love expensive shit, but you’d give every piece of it away if Bliss or Aura needed something.” His gaze dropped over me and returned. “You pretend you hate attention while wearing clothes designed to make people look.”

“I design clothes because I love fashion.”

“You also know what you look like in them.”

I swallowed.

Ryan’s hand slid from my hair to the side of my neck, his palm warm and rough against my skin.

“You’re beautiful when you’re polished,” he said. “I like you more when you’re not.”

Something inside me softened so fast it frightened me.

My parents loved me. I had never doubted that. Their love simply arrived with instructions so consistently that I sometimes forgot other kinds existed. Stand straighter. Choose the other dress. Study another hour. Smile. Don’t answer too quickly. Don’t speak before you know enough to be right.

Ryan looked at me like unfinished wasn’t a flaw. He looked like he might prefer the pieces nobody had corrected yet.

“I don’t know how to do that,” I admitted.

His thumb moved beneath my ear. “Do what?”

“Stop thinking about what everyone expects.”

“Start smaller.”