I hung my head at my wayward thought, grateful he couldn’t see me smirking and biting back my laughter.
“What are you smiling about?”he asked.
My head shot up.“I didn’t think you could see me.”
“I can see you in the side mirrors, Ivy.Do need help?”he asked again.
I moved my head in a circular nod.“I imagine I might.”
He grabbed my right hand and guided it up to his shoulder, then he took hold of my left hand.“Put your left foot on the peg, stand, and if you need to, use your hand on my shoulder to help you while you swing your right leg off.”
I followed his instructions, and managed to dismount without making a complete fool of myself.While he swung off the bike quickly, I still noticed how well he filled out his faded jeans.He turned around and I swallowed.I hadn’t realized I stood so close to him, and I stepped back.My heel caught on something and I started to fall.Ryan lunged toward me, wrapped his warm hands around my biceps, and caught me.
That was good and bad.It was good for all the obvious reasons, but it was bad because now we stood even closer to one another and I smelled his leather vest and faint traces of his cologne or deodorant.Worse, I didn’t like that combination, Ilovedit.
He stared down at me like he was weighing his words.His hands slid up to my shoulders and back down in a soothing manner.“You actually trip or are you not feeling well?”
I pressed my lips together.“I tripped.There must be a root or something in the ground.”
“Are you prone to being clumsy?”
When I was feeling awkward, absolutely.
Still, we hardly knew each other and I was embarrassed.“Not really, I’m just a little… nervous, I guess.”
“How’s your headache?”he asked, a thread of skepticism in his tone.
“It’s getting better.”
“Think you’re lying, but let me grab your bag,” he said, dropping his hands and side-stepping around me.
I took a deep breath and rubbed my arms.Next thing I knew, he grabbed my hand and he led me to a large concrete patio with six wooden picnic benches.We went in through a back door and I heard the clack of pool balls and alternative rock music played, but it wasn’t blaring.
He led me to a narrow staircase and dropped my hand.I followed him to the second floor, and down a long corridor with four doors on each side of the hall.This building was much larger than it seemed from the outside.My real estate brain wanted to calculate the square footage, but my head was starting to pound again now that I didn’t have anything to distract me from the pain.
He stopped at the second door, unlocked it, and led me inside.There were rectangular windows set high in the wall, which allowed some moonlight to filter inside.He hit a lamp on a nightstand and set my duffel on the floor next to the bed.
“So this is my room for the night?”I asked.
He dragged his fingers along his jaw, the expression in his eyes calculating.“Yes, but it’s my room, so really, it’s our room for the night.”
A sinking sensation went through my belly, but it was tinged with excitement.
He must have read the look on my face.“If Killian isn’t staying here tonight, I can sleep in his room if it makes you more comfortable.But fair warning, he’s probably using his room tonight.”
I shook my head and waved a hand in front of me.“I don’t want to be more of an imposition.”I shrugged and looked him in the eye.“It’s just sleeping after all, right?”
He stared at me for a beat.“That’s right.”
The way he said that, my stupid nerves fired up and I filled the silence.“It’s not like you’re attracted to me or anything.”
With a head shake he turned away from me while shrugging out of his leather vest.He hung it on a wall hook next to a dresser.He opened a drawer and pulled out a neatly folded black t-shirt, then bent to a different drawer and pulled out a scrap of white fabric.I watched him put them on the bed, then he reached behind his neck and yanked his t-shirt off right in front of me.
What in the world?
He pitched the t-shirt toward a hamper in the corner of the room, then locked eyes with me.“I wouldn’t put words in my mouth, woman.I’m gonna shower because I’m guessing I’m quicker than you, and I know I got sweatier than you moving that fuckin’ body.”
“Okay,” I whispered, doing my level best not to take in the tattoos on his chest, or his very well-defined muscles, or the smattering of chest hair that I found so appealing.
