I whisper, “We are in public. People are watch—”
He cuts me off with a strong, passionate kiss. One that makes my toes curl and my stomach churn with butterflies.
Then Ryan steps back, but only marginally. “I missed you. I don’t care who’s watching.” He winks and gives me a cheeky grin.
I don’t know what’s changed, but I am not going to question it.
Looking up at him, I frown at his bruised face and sigh before I reach up, caressing his cheek. The discoloration and slight swelling have me swallowing hard.
“It looks worse than it feels,” he says, then leans in to kiss me again. I press my lips to his softly this time, careful not to hurt his nose. When he pulls back, he smiles and adds, “And for the record, you don’t have to be gentle with me either.”
“Hmmm… I should kick your ass for getting in a fight. It’s a total PR nightmare. But the upside is Debt Money put Recoil in front of people who’d never heard of you, which means moreradio, more streams. Hell,Rolling Stoneran an old clip of yours today to show who the guys are that took on Debt Money. If this were a publicity stunt, I’d say it’s paying off.”
He tilts his head just slightly. “Really?”
“Yeah…really.”
“See… maybe Iambetter at this PR gig than you give me credit for, Tillie.”
He chuckles, and I laugh, giving his nose a gentle bop. He winces, letting out a soft groan. “Getting bruised for PR. Brilliant, Mr. Hunter. Now, can you take me home, please?” I ask, with a mock demand.
“Yes, ma’am.” He gives me a playful salute as I reach for my luggage, which Ryan quickly takes from my hands. We make our way to his car, flanked by a sea of security. Screams filter through the air, and fans call out his name, but he only has eyes for me.
“So it’s a done deal with Zaria then?”
“Sure is,” I reply as he loops his fingers with mine while his other hand drags my suitcase.
“Nate’s gonna flip. Hopefully, it will cheer him up, the grumpy old fart.”
“He does seem extra grouchy lately.”
Ryan lets me go just before I slide into the car, then he tosses my bag into the trunk and rounds the car to settle into the driver’s seat. I buckle my belt as he starts the engine, and immediately, a Recoil song fills the car. We look at each other and grin.
“I’ll never get tired of that,” he says, his voice warm with pride.
“It must feel incredible, hearing something you created, broadcast for everyone to hear.”
“Incredible doesn’t even come close,” he replies, shaking his head slightly. “There’s no word in the English language to do it justice, Tillie. It’s pure euphoria every single time.”
I link my fingers with his on the gearstick as he pulls out of the parking space.
“So I want to apologize for being an grade-A fucker to you.”
“You weren’tthatbad.”
He looks at me briefly and smiles. “I tried to scare you with a rat. I ruined your computer. I farted on your live stream and treated you like shit. So for all of that, I’m sorry.”
Exhaling, I nod. “I get it. You were hurting. I took your job, and although your attempts to out me were childish and immature, I understand why you did it. You want to be needed. I get it because I’m the same. I cared for my grandmother while she was terminal until she passed, and doing that left me with the feeling of having to be needed. She gave me the computer you glitter bombed.”
His head snaps around, his eyes wide. “Fuck! You’re kidding, right?”
I shake my head and wince.
His whole body slumps as he looks back to the road and exhales loudly, tightening his grip on my hand. “Fucking hell, Tillie, I’m so sorry. If I’d known, there’s no way… Fuck! I’m such a goddamn dick.”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t work anymore. I still have it. It would have died eventually, one day, and I would have only had the shell. So, at least now, I can retire it and have the advantage of a brand-new MacBook.”
He shakes his head. “Still, I’m very sorry. What an asshole thing to do. It just shows how beautiful you are that you can forgive me for something like that.”
