Just a Little Crush(32)

A knock at the door forced me up. I glanced at the clock. Mason must have decided to stop by on his way to his room. I was happy to have the company.

Ryder stood in my doorway, wearing a button-down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up. He looked sort of dressy…and drunk. His eyes were glassy and a little bloodshot. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I ran my hand along my hair, trying to smooth my ponytail. I was glad to finally have the opportunity to talk with him about things, but a little warning would have been nice.

His tongue slid over the place where his lip ring should be but wasn’t. When I looked up, he grinned. “I took it out for Mom. She’s not a fan…like you are.”

My face warmed and I stepped back. “Want to come in?”

“More than you know.” He eyed me up and down with a smirk then stepped in and closed the door behind him.

I abruptly looked away. How much had he drunk? Several times I’d seen him drinking but not get even remotely drunk. “So, you were with your mom tonight?”

“Yeah. Dinner with the family. Like I have one.” He walked to my desk and ran his hand over it. He picked up a book I’d been reading, flipped the pages, then set it down. “Guess I should say Mom and the stepfamily. It’s my birthday so we pretend to like one another.”

“Oh, happy birthday. Your twentieth?”

“That’s the one.” He sat on my bed, having no problem making himself very comfortable in my space.

Of course, he made my room feel tiny. His long legs stretched across the floor and he leaned back, resting his hands behind him on the bed. Not knowing what to do with myself, I stood awkwardly in front of him. “Did you go somewhere after dinner?”

“I met some friends but wasn’t having fun.” His gaze dipped over me then settled on the strip of flesh exposed at my waist.

My yoga pants fit snugly but low on my hips and my fitted tank top had ridden up. I tugged it down then sat facing him on my bed and crossed my legs. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Mom bought me this watch.” He lifted his wrist and flashed a nice silver watch. “The guys bought me drinks. Problem was, I only want one thing for my birthday…and she probably hates me.”

When he turned to me, speaking was damn near impossible. It was probably the alcohol, but his lazy smile and hooded eyes had me wound tight. His hair begged to be brushed back and his reddened mouth beckoned.

“Why do you think she hates you?” My voice sounded weird, kind of breathy.

“Because I’m not telling her everything.” He looked away. “And I never answered her text.”

I shook my head. “Well, she doesn’t. A little mad maybe, but she doesn’t hate you.”

He glanced at me.

“So what aren’t you telling her?”

“That she scares the hell out of me.”

I laughed. “I find that hard to believe. You’re pretty intimidating.”

“I’m not scared of her. I’m scared of the way she makes me feel…and that I’m going to lose her.”

I stared at my hands in my lap. “How does she make you feel?”

“Undeserving.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

I hated seeing him like this, and it was no way to spend his birthday.

“Ryder?”

He turned his head toward me.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

He studied me, then the corner of his mouth quirked up and he shook his head. His shoulders rose and fell as he sighed.

I shifted onto my knees and moved closer. When my body brushed against his arm, he stiffened. I ran my hand over his thigh and said, “In one hour your birthday is over. I can’t let you spend it like this.”

He sat upright. “Brinley, you don’t have to do this. That’s not why I came over. Honest. I just wanted to see you, but I shouldn’t even be here.”

He tried to stand, but I scooted onto his lap and straddled him. I draped my arms over his shoulders. “But you’re here now.”

He caressed my cheek and tucked my hair back. “You’re beautiful and perfect…which is why I’m not having sex with you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Who said I planned on having sex with you?”

He chuckled. “Touché.”

“Can I see your tattoos?”

He cocked his eyebrow and made an adorable face. “I feel like you’re taking advantage of me drunk.”

I bit back a smile. “If you have to shed all your clothes to show them to me, then I don’t need to see them. I figured you could just roll up your sleeve or something.”

“Sure,” he said in a long, drawn-out way. “You want me naked.”