“You didn’t have to hit that guy so hard,” I mutter, knowing damn well he absolutely did.
Ryder snorts. “You’re welcome for saving your pretty ass. Again.”
“I had it under control,” I pout primly.
“Sure you did,” he drawls. “Right before you smashed a glass over that guy’s head like a feral little hellcat.”
I open my mouth, then close it and lift my chin. The last thing I would ever admit is that I did it for him. Nobody touches my man, fictional or not—not that heismy man.
Gah! You know what I mean.
“Just trying to pull my own weight.”
“It was fucking hot,” he says without missing a beat.
I turn in my seat, ready to bite back with something clever. But the words die a quick death on my tongue, because he’s not looking at me like he’s teasing anymore—he’ssmolderinglike he wants to gobble me up.
My heart skids sideways.
Fuck.
After we pull into my driveway and park, neither of us moves a muscle as the engine hums, the sound of my labored breathing too loud in the small cab.
Finally, Ryder turns off the engine. Tossing the keys into the cupholder, he shifts in his seat, knee brushing mine. “You still owe me.”
“Owe you what?” I rasp.
He leans in, close enough the scent of leather and sandalwood swirls around my head, making it hard to think.
His smile is slow and wicked. “The story. Remember?”
Right.The story.The reason he’s here. The reason I’m not alone anymore.
Jesus, my throat is dry. “You’re not gonna let me forget, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
He brushes a knuckle lightly along my jaw.
“You want to finish it?” he murmurs. “Find out how it ends?”
Before I can stop myself, I nod.
His wolfish grin widens. “Good.”
Popping the door open, he hops out.
Every sane thought I thought I had is completely obliterated and I sit for a second, gripping the seatbelt, struggling to breathe.
What the hell am I doing?
Before I could talk myself out of it, I grab the keys, kick the door open and follow him up the steps.
Lips quirked, he waits for me on the porch, hands stuffed in his pockets.
Brushing past him, I unlock the door, and step into the dark, quiet house. Suddenly, it hits me with terrifying clarity—whatever story this is we’re acting out—it feels nothing even close to fiction.
It feels real. It feels sexy and dangerous.
