“I was in a hurry. You made me feel rushed,” I scoff. “You act as if you’ve never seen a set of tits.”
“Not the point,” he growls.
I pull his jacket tighter and can’t help but to breathe in his masculine scent. As crazy as this sounds—I could sniff this jacket all night. Call me a weirdo but I don’t care. I’ve never smelt anything so sexy in my life. He may be a dick, but doesn’t mean I have to take it out on his jacket.
Before I even realize it we’re stopped in the kitchen and he’s reaching into the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of water, takes the lid off, and slides it on the counter close to me. “Here’s some water. I haven’t had much time to shop yet. There are a few snacks in the cupboard if you’re hungry.”
I nod my head as he points over to his snack stash.
“I’m going downstairs. Stay up here.”
I grab for the bottle of water and take a small sip. “For what? And what am I supposed to do then? Stand here like an idiot?”
He turns his head to the side and lets out a small breath before motioning toward the living room. It’s as if me being here is painful. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back. Just don’t go snooping and don’t fucking come downstairs.” He turns away and grips the counter before releasing it with a sigh. “Drink the water. You could use it.”
“Alright then,” I mumble to myself as his eyes land on the hand holding the water.
“What the fuck?” He comes at me faster than I’ve ever seen him move before. Without a word he grabs the water out of my hand, tosses it, and unwraps my hand. “When the hell did this happen?”
“Does it matter?” I try pulling my hand away, but he grips it harder, stopping me.
He examines the small slash before pulling me over to the sink and turning the water on. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.” He places my hand under the water and takes off down the hallway.
I take a better look at the cut and realize it’s a little bigger than I initially thought. It’s still nothing to freak out about.
I’ve been standing here a couple minutes, starting to think he got lost, when he comes walking back down the hall with a first aid kit. Turning off the water, he grabs me by the hips and lifts me onto the counter.
I can’t help but to get lost in his look of concentration as he gently cleans my cut and disinfects it. He does it so meticulously I bet he’s done this a thousand times. He seems so comfortable doing it, and my stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of this big, strong man taking care of me. Not that I need it. I’ve never needed it before, and I still don’t.
Reaching for the bandage, he unconsciously runs his fingers up and down my arm before wrapping my hand and looking up to meet my eyes. His eyes look soft for a brief moment before he puts his guard back up and clears his throat. “Better. I’ll send this kit home with you and you can clean it again in the morning.”
I watch as he closes up the kit. “Thanks,” I whisper.
“I’ll be back. Just relax a bit.” I watch as he walks away, leaving me sitting on the counter, completely surprised by his moment of tenderness. This isn’t exactly how I imagined my night would turn out, but a part of me enjoyed this moment, even though the rest of the night is sure to suck.
I was having fun. We were all having fun . . . until Memphis showed up and the whole atmosphere seemed to change. Ryder turned into a straight up asshole and other people in the bar seemed more tense than they had been before he showed his face. I didn’t get it. It confused me and had me curious. Then when Ryder continued to talk shit about Memphis after he walked outside, I asked him to stop. That’s one thing that I hate. If you have some shit to say about someone—say it to their face or keep the fuck quiet.
Ryder stepped up in my face, trying to show the size of his balls and said, “Why, because you want to fuck him just like my girlfriend does? Well, get in line with the rest of the sluts around here.”
One word and I lost it. I threw my drink at him. That was me being polite. I wanted nothing more than to punch him right in the face. I haven’t felt that feeling in a long time. At that moment I knew I needed to just get out of there, so I ran outside in hopes that I would catch Memphis to avoid having to walk so far in heels. I got lucky and wasn’t taking no for an answer, although, I could tell he wasn’t too keen to have me on his bike.
Screw this. Who knows when he will be back. He’s probably avoiding me now that I saw his soft spot. I jump off the counter and walk into the living room. It’s inviting, but masculine. I sit back on his black, plush couch and once again go through the photo shoot I took of this girl named Jenna and her boyfriend. I did the session over two weeks ago at this beautiful park, but for some reason I haven’t even been able to pick out my top ten shots to edit, let alone send them to her. Maybe I’m just becoming picky and nothing seems to live up to my standards; either that or I’m just losing my passion.