Ryan’s hand stilled, then continued on to pick up the tea bags. “Mmhmm.”
“I had this weird moment.”
“If this is a sex thing?—”
Aelin snorted. “Not a sex thing.”Was it just her, or did Ryan’s shoulders drop a smidge?“We were walking around the park, and there was music playing, and I felt like I was floating above myself or something. Like my personality had been erased. There was nothing that existed anymore. I was just an empty shell. A robot trying to figure out how to be human.”
Ryan handed her a mug. “That’s bleak. Even for a first date.”
“Hence the reason I haven’t gone on a second.” She leaned over the counter.
He lifted his mug. They were only two feet apart now, the thin strip of island the only thing between them. “Maybe it wasn’t the right guy.”
She gave him a look. “I think I’m the anti-hero in this story.”
“Why?”
Aelin scoffed. "I don't know. Maybe because every time I tried to be myself with Clark, he found a way to make me feel like crap about it. Twelve years of that makes for a fairly thorough brainwashing."
His lips twitched. He glanced down at his mug, then back up at her, his dark lashes brushing his cheek. “How often is Clark right about things?”
“When it’s not about making money? Never.”
Ryan set his mug down on the counter. “I rest my case.”
She leaned forward, the counter biting into her hip bones. “Again. Easier to give advice than take it.”
Ryan nodded, his thumb tracing the handle of his mug. “I don’t want to be Sad Ryan anymore. I want to be Fun Ryan.”
She fought a smile. “I bet we could find the mothership. Tweak both our operating systems.”
His nostrils flared. “Maybe this place counts.” He lifted his mug, blew on his tea, and took a tentative sip.
“What are you proposing?” That word sent a zing through her centre, and she quickly took a drink, flinching as the hot liquid burned her bottom lip.
Ryan studied the surface of his tea as if reading the future. “What if we forgot about life back home for the week. What if we let ourselves be different?”
Aelin let his words settle over her. Was it possible? Could she ignore the emails from her lawyer, the searches for house listings, the potential passive-aggressive texts from Clark? Could she just . . . be? “This would have to go away.” She lifted up her phone.
Ryan opened up the kitchen drawer next to him. He pressed the power button on the phone until his screen went blank, then dropped it in.
Chapter
Nineteen
Aelin woketo the sound of an alarm. An actual alarm clock, since her phone was spooning Ryan’s in the kitchen junk drawer. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and flicked the switch. The mattress was soft, the sheets cool against her skin, but none of it felt familiar. It took her a minute to remember where she was.
Aelin threw off the covers, only then noticing the lump on the floor near the door. A rumpled, plaid blanket. Dirty blond hair splayed out on the pillow. She pushed up to sitting and leaned closer.
Right.
They’d decided that Ryan would bring in the couch cushions and sleep on her floor.
She slid to the carpet and tiptoed closer. The couch cushions were pushed off to the side and Ryan was smashed against the radiant heater, his feet curled against the door.
She hadn’t heard a thing after she’d crawled into bed fully dressed and pulled the covers up to her chin.Had he woken up? Seen her sleeping?
Ryan stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he rolled over under the blanket. Aelin jumped back as he yawned, then winced and stretched his arms over his head. He was like a bear waking upfrom hibernation. He rubbed his neck, then his back, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was testing each joint to see if it still functioned.
