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“Just don’t think you can get away with anything.”
“Can I try?”
“We’ll see. I have to be at the airport early, so I can’t stay out late.”
“Okay, well, if you want to meet me there, you can, or you can come over here, and—”
“I’ll come over.”
He laughed, and I wasn’t sure why I’d said that so quickly, but we got off the phone, and I felt a little lighter.
Ryan had a hard day yesterday, and after our short conversation, I found it easier to be a little more patient with him. It just so happened that we’d both been in chaotic moments and needed a breath of air, and now that we were working toward standing on more stable ground, I wanted to see what kind of man he was outside of the mess he was in.
I called an Uber and made it to his garage in record time. No one was in the garage—the workers were still out—and my footsteps echoed across the empty space. I climbed the metal stairs to the loft.
Ryan opened right after the first knock, and I withheld a smile but sucked my bottom lip into my mouth to prevent my heart from lurching out. Fresh from the shower, his hair spiked up in wet locks as water dripped down his chest. His beard seemed dry despite the rest of him. He’d shaved, or at least trimmed, and it made his smile seem brighter. My mouth watered, my imagination running wild.
“Well, hello,” he said slowly. “I don’t remember calling for an escort.”
I sent him a glare, but the smile tugging at my lips denied me the false sincerity. “Don’t even go there.”
“Looks like you already were.”
“Yeah?” I said, but my voice cracked. “Well, you look a little anxious. Nerves got you taking a cold shower?”
“I suppose I’m a little worked up.” That wicked grin sent a thrill through me, and I sighed in frustration with the constant shudders he kept giving me. My stomach knotted, and it took all I had not to acknowledge the heat pooling south of my navel.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.” He beckoned me in and stole a towel from the bed he used to dry his hair. He wore black pants and a blue button-up shirt hung from the back of the bathroom door.
“Want a drink?” He opened a small fridge to reveal a wide array of alcohol, probably stolen from the hotels and airplanes he frequented. I nodded and slid to the floor before it to view my choices. The door held the best selection of small bottles of whiskeys, mostly Jack Daniels and Crown, and I plucked all of them out with a big grin as I clutched them against my chest and spun to my feet.
“One of those for me?” he asked, his eyes glistening with amusement. He’d put on his shirt but rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and I licked my lips.
He followed my gaze, then fumbled with his button as if he were offended. “Eyes up here, please!” Ryan took a step forward until I had no choice but to meet his gaze, and my heart beat in tandem with every beat of his until both our breaths felt hot in the small space between us. “Thank you,” he said with a voice of silk, and I let the sound entrance me until he plucked abottle from my grip and the rest tumbled from my grasp.
“Oh, no!” I scrambled to pick them up, but I just wanted to calm myself. My face felt hot, and my entire body pulsed.
Ryan picked up a few bottles and chugged the one he’d taken before opening another.
I flopped onto the bed and downed two before I found my voice. “I can’t believe you did that.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Did what?”
“You know what.”
He licked a film of whiskey from his upper lip and smacked before kicking his shoes back off. “Maybe I was testing you.”
“Testing me?” I threw an empty bottle at him, but he caught it like he had prepared for it and dropped it to the floor. “Did I pass?”
“Hm...”
When he pulled a pillow up and leaned it against the wall before relaxing against it, I lay back until my head was midway. He seemed hesitant, but he moved to his stomach and crawled forward until his head hovered upside down over mine.
“You may have shown me your hand.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and tried for a deadpan look, but the challenge in his eyes told me he wasn’t buying it. “Is it a winning hand?”
