Page 60
Ryann stills, his hazel gaze shifting to my face, unreadable. The silence stretches, and the back of my neck burns with embarrassment.
“I just thought I’d make that clear, b-because of how things looked earlier. But I’m not really into Carpenter that way…just so you know.”
“I said it wasn’t my business,” he replies gruffly, letting go of my hand before turning away. “You’re a big boy, Shilo. You can interact with whoever you want, however you want.”
I’ve never hated the sound of my name on his lips more than this moment.
Opening a trunk near the bar, he pulls out a blanket and pillow, tossing them onto the couch. “If it’s alright with you, I’m going back to bed. I’m exhausted. You can use the couch tonight, and I’ll take you back to your car in the morning to change that tire.”
KC’s words about Ryann not letting hookups in his bed flash through my mind as I glare at the sectional, wondering how much bodily fluids might be lurking on it. I’m never sitting on that thing again.
“I’ll just take the floor. Or the bathtub,”
His brows furrow up as he freezes, studying me with a narrowed gaze. “Why don’t you want to sleep on my couch?”
“Cuz,” I mumble, ducking my head to place my empty mug in the sink.
Within three strides, he’s in front me, his fingers tilting my chin up. “Don’t hide from me, Shilo. Tell me why you’d rather sleep in a bathtub.”
“Because you… you’ve probably never fucked anyone there. And I don’t want to sleep someplace where that’s happened.”
His lips part slightly, eyes widening as they flit between mine. I’m so uncomfortable that I focus on his ear instead of meeting his gaze. After a moment, his hand trails down when I swallow, thumb brushing gently against the hollow of my throat. He can probably feel my pulse hammering wildly, and my breath grows shallow, but I refuse to look at him.
“Alright,” he finally says softly, nodding as if coming to a decision. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Turning abruptly, his hand falls away, leaving me cold and confused as he strides toward the hall.
“Go where?”
“To bed. Come on before I change my mind.”
Excitement jolts me awake, lighting a fire under my previously exhausted feet. I hurry after him, blinking in awe as I step into his bedroom for the first time. The bed is massive, swathed in gray and black linens, under a canopy of gauzy curtains. A full wall of windows lets in the soft glow of city lights, and beyond a set of closed French doors, I catch sight of a balcony with a lounger.
“Your room is bigger than Kansas’s apartment,” I marvel, turning slowly to take it all in.
Ryann shrugs, disappearing into a walk-in closet that’s probably large enough to qualify as a third bedroom. “Believe it or not, Declan’s is bigger. He went for space while I went for practicality.”
“What about that is practical?“ Following him, I point to a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
He throws me an annoyed glance over his shoulder. “Do you mind? I need to change out of these jeans that you seem to think are weird.”
Oh. Turning back around, I give him privacy as I jump onto his bed, nuzzling into soft pillows. His spicy scent is everywhere—on the sheets, on my clothes, on my skin. Something about that fact makes my brain fuzzy and my dick harder than it already was.
With a groan, I slip under the covers, sighing at the warmth just as Ryann reenters the room. He’s wearing a pair of sweats now, his broad shoulders bare, and he pauses for half a second when his eyes land on me.
“By all means, make yourself comfortable,” he says dryly, a faint edge to his tone.
Suddenly self-conscious, I bolt upright with a startled squeak. “S-sorry, did you mean for me to sleep on the floor? I’ll move–”
“Lay back down and go to sleep,” he growls, flicking off the light as he crawls in beside me.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I glance at him sideways. “Why are you angry?”
“I’m not. Go to sleep.”
Grumbling softly, I flop onto my side, keeping my arms locked around my knees as I face him. “Sure sounds like it.”
He puts a hand behind his head and doesn’t respond, stretching onto his back beneath the covers. I can feel the warmth from his body even though he’s on the very edge of the bed, still close enough for me to reach out and touch him if I wanted, but I don’t. Instead, I keep my hands to myself, studying his silhouette in the dark. The curtains are open, letting in just enough light to splay shadows over his broad chest, abs rising and falling with every breath, full lips slightly parted.
