I was still standing on his doorstep. “Thank you. Do you think I could possibly come in?”
He laughed, opening the door wider. “You sounded really English then. Old fashioned English.”
Maybe my character was rubbing off on me.
“Quite. And, pray tell, if there is any such thing wrong with that?”
He laughed again, closing the door and bolting it as soon as I was inside.
The hallway was empty, a couple of boxes on the floor, but there was no furniture. A few picture hooks were still up, but no pictures.
“Is this actually your house, or are you squatting here?” I carried on walking through, past the door to the lounge and into the large open-plan kitchen. Big bi-fold doors looked out onto what I imagined was a long garden, just about visible in the dusky light.
“It’s my house, but I am moving out. I’m renting it out.” He leaned back against the wall, letting me stare around the room. “I don’t live in London anymore.”
I nodded, not asking for more details because I wasn’t meant to know. “It’s a good house.”
“Thank you. Can I get you a glass of wine? Something stronger? I don’t have much in though.” He moved to the fridge, and I peered inside when he opened it, trying to get a read on him because my curious brain just wouldn’t quit.
“Just water. I know that sounds boring and it’s usually a negroni but… I have work tomorrow.” And I was on set early. Too early. As in, I couldn’t stay.
“Just water’s fine.” He closed the fridge and took out two glasses, using a tap that I guessed had filtered water.
We stayed in the kitchen, and it felt like I was an awkward teenager again, with a boy she really liked only she didn’t know what to say.
“How was your day?” It sounded lame enough to make me giggle.
His smile was cute. Dimple cute. My shoulders relaxed, and some of the weird tension flew out of the room.
He nodded, like he wanted to say more, only he wasn’t sure what he was able to say. We were both keeping secrets, that much was clear.
“Good. It was a good day.”
I smiled, then shook my head. “What the fuck are we doing?”
Ryan rubbed his face with his hand, pushing his fingers through his thick hair. “I don’t know. All I know about you is your name.”
“Do you want to know more?”
He passed me a glass of water. “Yes. No.” He tipped his head back and groaned. “I don’t know. I’m not looking for a relationship right now, and that’s just because of work.”
I rested my back against the kitchen units, taking a sip of the water. “Same. I move around too much right now and I don’t want to disappoint anyone – or be disappointed.” Which was true, although part of me didn’t want that to be the case. Ryan was gorgeous, funny and great in bed, all qualities I would happily get to know better, only I doubted he would want to be cast into the limelight because of my job, and the lack of time I could invest into him.
“So what do we do? Because this is awkward as fuck.” He folded his arms.
My laugh this time was easier. We were both on the same page, and it felt like we were both comfortable being honest, something that I knew was rare.
He shrugged. “Carry this on? See what happens? No pressure and no commitment.”
“Just hot sex in hotel rooms.” I could live with that, although I probably wouldn’t turn down a romantic meal for two in a remote restaurant somewhere.
“Or here. There’s a bed. Not much else, but there’s a bed.”
His eyes met mine, holding my gaze. I could see heat in them. Need. Desire. My body was responding to just his look. I knew he was thinking about fucking me, about what he could do to my body.
Pretty much anything, because I knew he’d make it feel good.
He put his glass down and closed the few metres between us, resting his hands on the cupboard door behind me, enclosing me in.
