Goonie appears in the doorway, meowing softly as he pads over to rub against my ankles.
“You saw that, right?” I ask as I pick him up, cradling him in my arms like a baby. “I’m not going crazy?”
Unconcerned with my existential crisis, he blinks up at me and starts to purr.
Rising from the bed, I make my way back up to my room. I can’t help feeling that with each passing day, and with every new item that materializes, Ryder is becoming more firmly anchored in this world.
My world.
And the scariest part? I’m starting to think that not only could he be real—but I might actually want him to stay.
The next morning,I wake to the smell of coffee and bacon again. Some things, at least, are becoming routine.
I pull on my robe and pad downstairs to find Ryder fully dressed in dark jeans and a charcoal Henley that hugs his broadshoulders and arms perfectly. Hair still damp from the shower, he’s pacing the kitchen like a caged animal.
“Morning,” I mumble, making a beeline for the coffeepot.
“Hey.” His voice sounds tight and distracted as he glances at his watch and then back at me. “I’m heading out soon.”
“Alright. Are you okay?”
He nods, jaw ticking away. “My appointment’s at noon. Apparently, I have a client coming in for a full sleeve.”
“A client you’ve never met?”
“Technically. But I remember meeting her. Not only that, I somehow remember designing the tattoo of a dragon, too.”
I take a sip of my coffee, thankful for the much needed jolt of caffeine. “Her?”
He tilts his head at me and grins, transforming the nervous expression on his face to one of mischief.
“Jealous?”
“What? No.” I scoff, hiding behind my mug. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
His grin widens as he reaches for his leather jacket, shrugging it on with that effortless grace that makes my stomach flip. The worn leather stretches across his shoulders like it was made for him—because, apparently, it was.
“So what are your plans for today?” he asks, adjusting the collar.
I lean against the counter, trying to look casual when there’s nothing casual about any of this whatsoever. “All the fun stuff. Clean the house, go food shopping since we’ve pretty much demolished most of what was here. Oh, and I need to call Sasha. She’s been texting me non-stop, wanting updates.”
“Updates on what?” he asks, popping an eyebrow.
“On you, obviously.” I take another sip to hide my blush. “She thinks I’ve either gone completely insane or hit the jackpot.”
He chuckles, checking his pockets for his keys. “What do you figure?”
“Jury’s still out,” I mutter, a small smile tugging at my lips. “When will you be home?” The question slips out before I can stop it, and I immediately want to take it back.
Home. Like this is his home now, too?
He pulls his keys from his pocket, jingling them thoughtfully.
“Probably not till late,” he says, pocketing his wallet. “Depending on what happens when I get there. Just starting a full sleeve can take a few hours, at least.”
I nod, trying to appear casual even as my stomach knots with anxiety. What if he leaves and never comes back? What if this is where our story ends?
“Well... good luck.”
