“You have a little...” he murmurs, voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that makes me shiver.
“Thanks,” I whisper, watching in awe as he slowly sucks the syrup off his thumb, eyes locked with mine.
My entire body flushes hot.
Fucking hell.
All through breakfast, he continues his subtle slow-burn assaults—resting a hand on my thigh, grazing his fingers along my collarbone when he points out Goonie doing something silly as his thigh presses firmly against mine.
By the time we’re finished eating, I’m a fuck-all mess of nerves.
“Oops. Looks like it’s time for me to go to work,” he says suddenly as he gets up. “Big day ahead.”
Thrown off by his sudden change in attitude, I stand and take our plates to the sink.
“Okay,” I manage, trying not to sound as affected as I feel. “Will you be home for dinner?”
He pauses at the door, gray eyes dark as they sweep over me. “Actually, no. I’m meeting Claire and Jax after work to finalize details for the party tomorrow.” His grin turns wicked. “But don’t worry. I’ll be thinking about you.”
I nod. “Don’t forget, Sasha’s coming over today to spend the weekend. Try not to let her see you naked.”
“Your wish is my command,” he grins.
Then he’s gone, leaving me flustered and frustrated.
“Sneaky bastard,” I mutter under my breath.
Ryder might think he’s going to win this little game, but I’m not going down without a fight. If he can touch and tease, then so can I. Two can play at this slow-burn torture.
With newfound determination, I head upstairs and get to work. The words flow, and by the time I look up, it’s already past noon.
My phone pings.
SASHA:Heading out now. Should be there in about an hour. Need me to pick anything up on the way?
ME:Wine. Lots of wine. And maybe some ice cream?
SASHA:That bad, huh?
ME:I’ll explain when you get here. Drive safe.
I close my laptop and head downstairs to tidy up. The house isn’t messy, not since I scrubbed the shit out of it a few days ago.
There are signs of Ryder everywhere—a jacket thrown over a chair, a pair of boots sitting by the door and a half-empty glass sitting on the coffee table.
Picking up the glass, I take a sniff.
Whiskey.
I frown. Ryder doesn’t usually leave his stuff lying around. There was something off about him this morning, but I was too distracted by his slow-burn flirting to ask him more about it.
After putting the glass in the dishwasher, I change the sheets in the guest room and make sure there are fresh towels in the guest bathroom. Just as I’m finishing up, I hear a car door slam outside.
Rushing to the front door, I throw it open to find Sasha struggling up the steps with what looks like enough luggage for a month-long vacation.
“Holy shit! Did you pack your entire apartment?” I laugh, hurrying to help her.
“You know it.” She drops her bags and pulls me into a fierce hug. “God, I’ve missed you.”
