“I’m not stressed. If anyone’s the stressed one between us, that’s you. I’m the easygoing one.”
“Usually,” he admits, before shrugging. “And yet here we are, roles reversed. Maybe things have changed now.”
“How so?” I ask as he swings his legs out of bed and heads to the bathroom.
“Maybe I’m getting to you, Miss Jenkins,” he calls over his shoulder, grinning widely at me before shutting the door behind him.
I sit there in a daze as I hear the sound of the shower turning on. The thing is, he’s right.
Despite all my best efforts since he waltzed back into my life, I’ve fallen head over heels for Ryan Jansson.
And all I can think as I start to pack my suitcase is:Please don’t hurt me again.
I don’t know why I was so worried about coming home.
Everything is going surprisingly well. As far as I can tell, Ryan is still into me, despite my normal daily underwear, and no one at the office has caught on to our secret. Well, except for Mimi, who I obviously told straightaway and is already our biggest fan.
I do need to tell her the truth about my history with Ryan, though. At first, I simply didn’t want to talk about it, but now it feels like I’m lying to her.
Dating hasn’t been easy for me in the past because I’ve always felt like I had to choose between romance and my career. But one of the best things about Ryan is that if anyone understands my work ethic, it’s him.
We both appreciate the demands of the job—if one of us has to get to an important interview or work through dinner to hit a deadline, it’s not an issue. I’m not filled with guilt all the time, nor do I feel the need to justify typing late into the night.
When we tell Cosmo about the Isabella Blossom scoop, including the details of the birth in the back of the taxi, he is so ecstatic that he yells, “CLEAR THE FRONT COVER!” from his office, throwing everyone into utter confusion.
“Ryan, yougenius!” Cosmo exclaims, standing up from his desk to give him a congratulatory handshake. “They’ll be talking about this story for years to come. Ha! One of my journalists delivering a Hollywood actress’s baby. You can’t make up this shit.”
“Harper played the lead role,” Ryan presses. “She was the one who—”
“Yes, well done, now off you go and let me know the moment you’ve got the interview booked in,” Cosmo says, ushering us out. “I need to tell the publishers that our sales numbers are going to skyrocket when this hits the stands. Weneededa win.”
“Why?” I ask, concerned by his tone. “Is everything okay?”
He shoots me a patronizing look. “Funnily enough, things aren’t hunky-dory in the media industry, Harper. We can’t all livein a fairytale land of fluffy celebrities. Behind the scenes we’re dealing with a shit storm thanks to that little-known threat calleddigital.Magazines are a dying breed. Sales numbers matter.”
“She was only asking if—” Ryan begins, but he is cut off by Cosmo.
“Go on, and get the social media team prepared, I want this to be picked up by every publication in the country, got it? I have to make some phone calls,” he concludes, shooing us out.
Ryan seems annoyed at my role being so brazenly overlooked by Cosmo, but I tell him I’m used to it and not to worry. But nonetheless, he insists on cooking me dinner to cheer me up, an offer I eagerly accept. I’ve really tried hard to keep my flat in good shape since we got back, because I knew the first time Ryan came over, he would enter with a discerning eye. I admit, I’m quiteenjoyingbeing a tidier person, because I do find things much faster. It is a lot more effort, though, and I can’t be perfect—and as soon as Ryan arrives with a bag full of groceries, I notice him clock the ripped cardboard strewn across the sofa. I can tell by his eyes that it’s killing him, even though he’s pretending not to notice it.
“I had a few book deliveries earlier,” I admit as he starts unloading the shopping on the kitchen counter. “I’ll put that all in the recycling.”
“Glass of wine?” he offers, and I wonder if the cardboard is driving him to drink.
“Yes, please. I need it,” I say, leaning against the kitchen counter and watching him look for two glasses in the cupboard before giving up and opening the clean, loaded dishwasher. “My boss was an asshole today.”
“Is that right?” he says. “That’s terrible. Thank goodness you have a ravishingly handsome colleague to make your day seem that bit better.”
“You’re right. Mimi is ravishingly handsome.”
He chuckles, and as he pours the wine, I move to comebehind him and wrap my arms around his waist. He lets out a contented sigh, turning round to face me.
“Second time in a week you’ve come here to cook me dinner. I could get used to this.” I grin up at him, resting my chin against his chest.
“Yeah? Me too,” he says, placing a soft kiss on my lips. He hesitates and smiles against my mouth. “Although, I’d enjoy cooking here a little better if all the crockery was in the right place…”
“Are you insulting my kitchen arrangement?”
