As she brushes past me to head upstairs, I grab her wrist. “Don’t forget what I said.”
Her eyes meet mine, dark with want. “Believe me, I won’t.”
THIRTY-NINE
noia
The driveto Portland takes just under an hour, most of which I spend staring through the windshield, my mind replaying every interaction with Ryder since I found him standing half naked in my kitchen.
Before I know it, I’m pulling into the underground garage, parking my SUV next to Sasha’s Mazda in the extra parking spot.
Her apartment building is one of those sleek and shiny modern high-rises housing condos with floor-to-ceiling windows.
I grab my overnight bag from the back seat with a sigh and follow Sasha into the lobby. A doorman nods as we pass, and she leads us into the elevator, pressing the button for the twentieth floor.
“Do you think I’m doing the right thing,” I groan, leaning against the wall. “Am I a coward?”
“Fuck no,” Sasha says firmly. “Sometimes you just need to distance yourself to help figure shit out. Besides, it’s only for a couple of days.”
The elevator doors slide open, and we step into a hallway. Her condo is a corner unit at the end of the hall.
When she unlocks the door and ushers me inside, I’m hit with the familiar scent of coconut and cedar.
“Home sweet home,” she announces, tossing her keys into a ceramic bowl by the door. “Make yourself comfortable. You know where the guest room is.”
I drop my bag next to the couch and wander over to the windows. The view of Portland’s downtown skyline from up here never ceases to amaze.
“Thanks for letting me come hang out.” I look over my shoulder and give her a small smile. “I just needed some time to... breathe.”
“I get it.” She flops onto her couch. “That man is intense. In the best possible way, but still.”
“You have no idea.” I collapse next to her. “Every time I’m around him, it’s like I can’t seem to think straight. I feel like I’m losing control.”
“You’re scared.”
“Yeah. But I’m more apprehensive than anything. I’m used to controlling the narrative. But with Ryder...” I trail off, searching for the right words.
“He’s writing his own.”
“Something like that.”
“Don’t worry.” She pats my knee. “This will all work itself out. In a couple of days I have no doubt you’ll think of a way to move forward with whatever’s going on between you two.”
Sasha pushes herself up from the couch. “I think this calls for some wine. Stay right there.”
I sink deeper into the cushions, listening as she rummages through cabinets in the kitchen, returning a couple of minutes later with two glasses and an open bottle of merlot.
“Here.” She pours a generous amount into the glass and hands it over. “A little liquid strength.”
I take a long sip, savoring the rich flavors as they burst over my tongue. “Thanks. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until now.”
Sasha sits beside me, tucking her legs underneath her. “So, I’ve been thinking about something, and this weekend kind of cemented it for me.”
“What’s that?” I ask, watching the wine swirl in my glass.
“I’m considering opening a Summit Studio in Lakeside.”
My heart skips with excitement, and I flick my gaze up to meet hers. “Seriously?”
