Page 61 of No Good Fight

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Oh.”

I kiss him again before I can think of a safer response. Ryder gives in for one breath, maybe two. His mouth turns hungrier, his hand firming in my hair, and every thought in my head scatters until all I know is the weight of him close to me and the fact that I want more.

Then he pulls back like it costs him.

I blink up at him, offended and breathless. “Again?”

He closes his eyes briefly, then steps back, putting real space between us. “Yes.”

“This is starting to feel like a thing”

“I’m not rejecting you,” he says, opening his eyes. The words come fast, like he knows exactly where my mind might go and wants to block the door before I get there. “I want you. I want you so much I can barely think straight, but tonight has been hell. He grabbed you, followed us, and left that picture at your apartment. I won’t let your first night here become another thing you have to sort through tomorrow.”

My throat tightens. “I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“I know.” He looks wrecked when he says it, and that helps more than it should. “I stopped because I want to be the only thing you’re thinking of when we cross that bridge. Not if, Alex. I plan on taking this further. I plan on everything.”

The words take the anger out of me in one clean sweep.

I press my lips together, trying to hold on to the last scraps of annoyance because they feel safer than gratitude. “You’re very irritating for a man with this many red flags.”

His mouth curves. “I’ll try to make a better list of things for you to hate me over.”

“Start with the fact that you have so many cameras.”

“Not tonight.” He looks at me with patient eyes. “Tonight, and for the foreseeable future, those cameras are going to make sure that you’re safe in my space.”

“No,” I admit, glancing toward the dark window. “Not tonight.”

Ryder nods, then bends to pick up my duffel from where he left it near the hallway. He carries it to the guest room without opening it, while I follow with the leftover McDonald’s bag because letting him handle both my safety and my fries feels too intimate after everything we’ve said and done tonight.

The guest room is clean, warm, and prepared in ways I do not want to examine too closely. Navy comforter. Extra blanket folded at the foot of the bed that looks suspiciously like the one my mom and I got him for his high school graduation. A bottle of water on the nightstand. Two phone chargers beside it. My work bag sits near the small desk where he must have placed it earlier. Ryder sets the duffel on the bench, then backs toward the doorway instead of coming farther into the room.

“You have charging options,” I say, staring at the nightstand and those two options.

“I wasn’t sure what you used.” He shrugs like all of this isn’t a huge deal. Like he wasn’t preparing for me to be in his space, if not his bed.

“Obsessive behavior, is what it is.”

His expression softens for a second. “I’ve been called worse.”

I set the food bag on the dresser, then cross to the window and check the lock. It’s solid, but I test it twice because I have to. Ryder watches from the hall without telling me I’m safe, which is good because I’m not sure I could handle reassurance right now.

Not on top of everything else.

When I turn around, his hand is resting against the doorframe and his eyes are on my face. “Do you need anything else?”

“Will you answer if I call out for you?”

“Every time.”

“Even if I just think I hear something?”

“Especially then, Allycat.”

I nod, tugging his jacket tighter around me. “And you’ll be downstairs?”

“Living room,” he says. “I can see the feeds from there, and I’m not gonna get much sleep anyway.”