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“Is...” Biting my lip, I turn toward the island in the kitchen, where my jacket still rests. “Is that why you didn’t...have sex with me tonight? Because it wasn’t good before?”

A heavy silence follows the question, making my skin crawl as I zip up my jacket to hide the stain on my shirt. The longer it stretches on, the worse I feel about what just happened, which makes me mad because he told me I wouldn’t be able to handle this. But I can. I know I can, and I won’t let him see otherwise. Even if the thought of him not liking my body makes me want to run home, climb under the covers and never come out.

“Makes sense.” I clear my throat, tucking a loose wave behind my ear, forcing my voice to remain steady. “I’m sure you’ve been with guys more experienced than me. Kansas was probably better at it.”

Ryann sighs heavily, a sound I’ve come to hate over the last few weeks, and his bare feet slap on the tile somewhere behind me. A sliding glass door opens, followed by a cold chill that blows into the room.

“When you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, join me on the balcony,” he barks, slamming the door shut behind him.

Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away, feeling like an idiot for letting my insecurities show, essentially proving him right. Sure, he called me gorgeous, but only because I was sucking him off and I was fully clothed. He didn’t mean me. Just what I was doing for him.

Jesus, Shilo, pull it together. Or this whole thing will end before it even starts, and I’ll probably never get to experience this again with someone I’m actually kind of comfortable with.

Blowing out a breath, I take a few extra seconds to gather myself before following Ryann onto the balcony. He’s still shirtless, leaning against the railing as he gazes at the ocean beneath the moonlight, somehow not shivering as the wind stings my cheeks.

“How are you not frozen solid?” I chatter, tugging my jacket tighter as I step up next to him, reeling slightly from the view forty-six stories below.

His lips quirk. “Ireland’s summer months are usually this cold, maybe a tad warmer. It feels like home.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes, I do,” he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s only the memories of my mother that make me miss it.”

Warming my hands with my breath, I glance at him sideways. “Does she still live there?”

“She’s dead.” His tone is flat, practically screaming I don’t want to talk about it, so I tell him I’m sorry despite wanting to know more. He shrugs again but doesn’t answer.

Okay...awkward.

We stand in silence for a long while, him eyeing the horizon while I study his profile, taking in the outline of his slightly crooked nose, and the breeze mussing his hair. He’s literally the most stunning man I’ve ever seen.

Eventually, he does that irritating sigh again before scrubbing a hand down his face. “It’s getting late, and tomorrow comes early.”

Even though I knew it was coming, I still can’t help the way my stomach drops at the fact that he’s kicking me out. Again. Maybe not in the rude way he did last time, but the insinuation is there.

With a nod, I turn to head back inside. “Yeah, I’d better get going.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Well, aren’t you a gentleman. I chew my cheek, fighting to keep those words inside my brain, feeling exhausted from biting my tongue.

Ryann places a hand on my back, directing me toward the elevator, and though I craved his touch just moments ago, I don’t want him touching me right now. So I put some distance between us, stepping ahead to make it the rest of the way myself, and as I spin around to press the button, I catch him watching me with an unreadable expression. Blank. Back to being a brick wall.

So this how it’s going to be, then? I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised. He did warn me. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. And it doesn’t mean I won’t show him that I’m upset.

Giving him a forced grin, I throw up two fingers in salute. “See you bright and early, Mr. Callahan.”

The flash of outrage in his eyes just before the doors close is almost satisfying.

Almost.

Ryann

“Shilo, get in here.”

I’ve had it with him. Had it.

He showed up at the start of the week with a petulant attitude for whatever reason, and it hasn’t gone away since. Not only did he drop the wrong package off at the post office—which I suspect was just to get extra time away from the desk—but he’s misplaced my dry cleaning, uploaded the wrong notes from a dire meeting with a client, and filled my schedule with a bunch of useless shit.