He frowns. “I would have liked you anyway.”
“Again, I’m sorry.” I put my hand on the door handle. “Thank you for the ride.” I take a deep breath and get out of the car, shutting the door.
“Wait.” He gets out and comes over to where I’m waiting at the curb. “You did all that just to go out with me?”
“Not my most shining moment.”
“It is flattering though.” A sheepish grin grows on his face. “I’m not a hot jock, ya know, so I’m surprised you went that far.”
I smile, feeling a teensy bit better. “You’re a unicorn. Any girl would love to be with you.”
He studies my face. “So do you still want to go out? With no pool playing involved?”
“Ah…you’re very nice, Connor, but…”
The silence grows as we look at each other.
I shake my head. “You really aren’t my type.”
He shakes his head and points a finger at me knowingly. “Ah. Ryker. I knew it. It’s been him since the beginning.” His eyes widen. “Wait—was that kiss in the bookstore real?”
I sigh and shrug.
“Interesting,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets. “You know I saw the whole thing, right? I also recall your arms were around him, so—”
“I was there,” I say.
“Mmhmm.” He laughs and looks down at his feet. “Look, I should have noticed you sooner and asked you out a long time ago, and maybe this would have all gone down a lot differently—”
“Let’s try something,” I say, interrupting him and taking a step closer. “Kiss me.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “What? Why?”
“Let’s call it an experiment,” I answer. I need to know if I’m just such a hard-up virgin, any kind of male attention gets me going.
He studies me for a moment. “You’re not going to slap me?”
I smile. “Nope. I promise.”
“Okay.”
I straighten as if preparing for battle as he cups my shoulders and leans in. His head lowers, and his lips touch mine, the pressure gentle.
He eases back a few second later. “Anything?”
“No,” I murmur. Not even a twitch. “But you’re great,” I add brightly.
“Damn.” He grins. “Friends?”
I nod. “Yeah. For sure.”
“Good luck,” he calls out to me as he walks back around to his side of the car.
He pulls away and I watch him go.
And there you go. Welcome to the end of an era. Maybe he was always built up in my head anyway, a way to keep myself occupied and distracted from other things.
Like my mom.
Like Ryker.
I take the sidewalk up to the front porch and see a white piece of paper tucked between my door and the frame.
I rip it open, remembering the last time I found a note on my porch.
I bought you a tire and changed it. You shouldn’t be driving on a spare. Call me in the morning, and I’ll take you to the Waverly to get it before class.
Ryker.
PS. Don’t worry about that agent dude. You got this.
My fingers trace the llama he drew at the bottom.
God. My heart dips. Ryker Voss is one complicated man. He did all this—yet he pushes me as far away from him as he can.
I go inside, and I’m a little giddy from not having the hassle of messing with my car. Part of it, too, is that I told Connor everything. Acceptance is a beautiful thing, and I want to revel in it.
“Pen! Shit!” Vampire Bill’s squawk makes me smile as I walk past him. I give him a cracker from the box next to his cage.
“Good boy!”
I grab my phone and a glass of prosecco then head to my bedroom, where I change into a camisole and a pair of lace shorts. After that, I get Vampire Bill situated on the desk in my room, tell him good night, and crawl into bed.
I’m right in the middle of reading when my phone pings and I dive on it, expecting Ryker.
It’s my dad. I quickly scan the messages he sent earlier that I didn’t see. I skim past them to read the most recent one.
When I didn’t hear from you, I called Walter. He gave me the rundown. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.
I sigh and respond. It’s okay. I appreciate the help. I didn’t expect you to do that. Thank you.
Good night, he sends, and I respond likewise.
On a whim, before I can change my mind, I type out, I’ll come over for lasagna soon.
I set my phone down, moving on and thinking about Ryker. My fingers pluck at the edges of my sheets.
Forget waiting until morning to talk to him.
I drain my drink and dig deep for the nerve to initiate a text. It’s easier than talking to him face to face anyway. Perhaps it’s because when we text, we don’t worry about the repercussions of our words. We just talk and there’s no pressure.
Thank you for everything, I send to Ryker. I owe you.
His reply is immediate.
You’re home?
Yeah.
Alone?
Of course, I reply.
Are you in bed?
Yes. My heart kicks up, and my chest rises.
Is your head against Edward’s face?
I laugh out loud and Vampire Bill glares at me. “What?” I say to him. “Ryker’s funny.”
The sparkly vampire is on my pillow, I reply.
So, if I shave my chest hair off and toss on some glitter lotion, you’ll be into me?
I burst out laughing. Maybe.
Done.
OMG. Stop teasing me. I’m giggling.
Who said I was teasing?
I smirk. Okay, so the next time we watch a movie, you get to pick.
I’ll pick the Avengers.
I can get down with Thor.
On second thought, I’ll go with Texas Chain Saw Massacre.
I sigh, a smile on my face.
I need to go, he types a few minutes later after we’ve been texting for a while and I’ve lost track of time. We make plans for him to pick me up at eight in the morning the next day to take me to get my car.
I wanted to say something first. My heart thunders as I nibble on the inside of my cheek. I told Connor the truth. He knows.
There’s a long pause, and I’m holding my breath as I wait for his reply. The tension builds inside me, and my mind races, trying to figure out what Ryker is thinking.
Smart move. You’re never going to be a pool shark. When’s your next date with him?
I smirk. Ryker has assumed Connor wouldn’t care that I lied. Men. There isn’t one.
Why? he sends back immediately.
I open my nightstand drawer that houses my collection of lip balm. I swipe on some mango and stare at my phone. God. What do I say? This feels like a significant moment.
I’ll have to tell you in person.
Tell me now, he sends.
I picture him in his bed sending the message, his face intense.
Why?
You know why, Red.
Even though he’s not here in the room, I sense the alpha male in him coming through the phone, the command in his tone. Heat pools in my lower body, and I squirm on the bed.
Several moments have gone by and I think maybe he’s done texting me—but then a new one comes through…and I die.
You were meant for me, he sends.
I can’t breathe. Looking down at his words, I read them over and over, my heart pounding.
Something has changed. I feel the shift in my heart, opening up.
I toss my phone across the room, and it scares Vampire Bill.
“Shit! Ryker!” he squawks.
Penelope
The sound of knocking on my front door comes about fifteen minutes later.
Vampire Bill is squawking like crazy as I jump up, grab my long cardigan, and slip it on over my shoulders. I run to Charisma’s room and open the door. She isn’t there, and I exhale, recalling a message saying she was staying over with someone.
A knock comes again, and I fly into the den with my pepper spray in hand.
“Who is it?” I shout, once again cursing the fact that I don’t have a peephole. I really need to get one installed.
“Ryker. You didn’t reply to my text. Did you really think I was just going to let that go?” His voice is dry.
I dash the few steps over to the hall mirror and check my appearance. I look…insane. My hair is poking out in crazy places everywhere, and I do my best to smooth it down. One side of my face has a bit of drool from where I had just fallen asleep, and I scrub at it frantically.
“Penelope. Open the door.” I hear a quietness in his tone that makes me work even faster.
I jerk open the hall drawer, pull out a tube of lip balm, and slap it on. It’s not my preferred color tint, but what’s a girl to do when she has a six-foot-four sexy man outside her door? You gotta take what you can get.
And my boobs. Shit! I have no padding. Nothing but a lace camisole. I tug the sweater around me.
“Give me a minute,” I call out and turn toward my bedroom. Maybe I have time to put on a bra—
“Nope, Red. Now.” Oh. There’s that teeny bit of command in his tone, and I like it.
Squaring my shoulders, I turn back around and fling open the door.
Wearing black gym shorts and a button-up white shirt—very confusing—his broad shoulders shift as he slouches against my doorframe. His hair is brilliantly mussed and his eyes gleam.
Crazy outfit or not, he is gorgeous. “Kinda late for a visit. I’d definitely classify this as booty call category.”
He straightens up and rakes stormy eyes over me, lingering on my lips. “You put on lipstick.”
“It’s tinted lip balm.”
He grins. “You only put that stuff on when you’re nervous.”