My face paled. “E?” I croaked.
“You chose the pink drink.” Ryder shrugged, towering over me now. I fixed my gaze firmly on his face and absolutely not on the chest that was practically eye level. “Chains is famous for their special cocktails. Not my fault you didn’t bother asking what was in it.”
Light glinted off the piercing in his nipples, which of course drew my attention to the rest of his torso. “Did you really have to take your shirt off?” Unlike his back, his front only had a couple of tattoos, all black and grey and aching for some colour.
“Well, heaven forbid I act like a gentleman and try to cover you. Next time you start stripping, I’ll just let your tits go free, shall I?”
“There’s not going to…” My voice faltered. What was even happening? My head spun, my body hot and cold at the same time. “Just give me a minute.”
I stumbled into the en-suite, slamming the door only to press my back against it like it was the only thing holding me upright. My chest heaved, emotions tangling into a knot of shame and anger.
Through the wood came Ryder’s voice, lazy and amused. “What? Don’t want another round? Seems only fair I get to come this time.”
“Fuck off!” I screamed, my throat raw, though a traitorous part of me shivered at the sound of his deep, masculine laugh.
It was just the remnants of the drugs. Nothing else.
It definitely wasn’t the memory of him all wet, dark hair clinging to his face from the rain while he sucked?—
Stop it!
Dragging a hand across my face, I turned to the mirror, checking my pupils. Pinching the lids I held them open to the light, but they seemed to react normally. Not that I knew what I was looking for. Blinking a few more times, I studied my reflection, the skin on my face a little pale considering my evening, bringing out the freckles I tried so hard to hide. My hair was a nest on my head, the strands so tangled I winced.
I looked like a madwoman dressed in a man’s T-shirt, with the band‘Grimmstone’written across my breasts. I tugged it off and tossed it into the corner before stepping into the shower. The first burst of water was icy, but I stayed beneath it until the heat finally spread, loosening my muscles as I washed my body and hair.
I scrubbed harder than I needed, until my skin stung and every tangled knot was removed with my fingers. I stayed until the water cooled, and only then did I step out. Wrapping a towel around my body I moved to the mirror above the sink, wiping my hand across the steamed surface.
“Bloody hell!” I jumped, finding Ryder leaning in the doorway in the reflection. “Did you just watch me shower?” I screeched, turning to face him with the towel clutched tighter.
“Your lack of any sense of danger is nothing short of astounding,” he muttered, slowly straightening to his full height. “Seriously, I could’ve been anyone.”
“Get out!” I shoved him in the chest, forcing him backso I could slam the door in his face. But instead, he caught it, holding it open.
“You’ve been in here almost an hour,” he pointed out. “So hurry the fuck up and make yourself presentable. We have things to do and people to see.”
I pushed the door again, but he didn’t budge.
“Also, cute birthmark on your shoulder. Looks like a heart.” With a wink he released his grip, allowing me to finally close it.
Biting back averyunfriendly remark, I quickly dried and eyed Ryder’s T-shirt. It was the only thing I had considering my dress was beyond repair. I had no fucking idea where my knickers had gone, and I wasnotasking him.
Shoving it on, I was thankful it was big enough to cover all my important bits. Finding a brush beneath the sink and an elastic band, I quickly tamed my hair and braided it out the way. When I finally was happy to open the door, I found Ryder lounging back at his desk, the chair tipped back as he smoked a cigarette and scrolled through his phone.
He still hadn’t put on a shirt, and I couldn’t help but study the realistic snake that curled from his hand up around his upper bicep. Across his left pec a passage curled in small, elegant script while a circle and lines marked his lower abs on the right, just above his jeans. Maybe a compass?
He was all hard edges and sun-kissed skin. Frustratingly, Ryder had a body worth looking at. As if he was sculpted for both agility and power.
“Thought I wasn’t your type?” he teased, glancing up from his phone with an amused expression.
“I need some clothes.” I hadn’t brought anything when I’d left my flat yesterday in a hurry. “Clothes,” I emphasised when Ryder’s gaze seemed locked on my legs.
“Your place isn’t safe right now.”
“Then my studio.”
“I don’t think your clothes are a priority, blondie.” Ryder stubbed out his cigarette and pushed to his feet, snatching a T-shirt from somewhere behind him.
I froze as he turned, catching sight of his back before the fabric slid into place. I hadn’t noticed before, but his skin was littered with faint, circular marks scattered among the tattoos. By the time he dragged the shirt over his shoulders, the scars were gone, and I made sure my gaze was elsewhere when his eyes found me again.
