“I’ll walk you there.” Ryland jumps from the couch and walks twice as fast to the door holding it open for me. His free hand holds my purse. He looks ridiculous with the bulging tan leather bag swinging in front of him, but I can’t even force myself to smile at the sight.
I stop outside his entryway and take my purse. He leans on the door casing with a bent arm. His body leans over me highlighting those short comments he made earlier.
“Marissa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Oh my God. Shut up, Ryland. It was a good kiss. I liked the kiss. Stop apologizing.” I’d swing my purse at him, but I don't have enough arm control with the crutches. He’s safe for now.
His bottom lip drops as he stares at me from his higher position, and I give him my best pissed off look. Maybe I’ll hit him with my crutch. It’d make a bigger impact than a soft purse.
“So I didn’t totally cross the line?”
I roll my eyes at him and throw my head back so I won’t commit assault. He’ll need his legs to run after soccer balls soon. When I lower my head again, he’s still gaping at me in disbelief. Does the man not see the reaction he causes in me? Ryland isn’t that clueless. Girls must throw themselves at him all the time.
“Well then. Maybe we should do it again.” It’s definitely not a question, but rather a statement as his lips curl up in a half-smirk.
“What? Kiss? Right now?” Great, now I sound like the stupid one.
He steps back from me and stands in the middle of the hallway. “Yeah, but not now. Later.”
He chuckles at my puzzled expression, his eyes sparkling in the hallway lights and turns toward his own door.
“Later?” I ask the empty hallway. What the hell does later mean? Oh right. We’re going to kiss again later.What have I gotten myself into now?
