“Look, guys,” Ryan says, standing up and zipping up his jacket. “I just remembered something, and I need to go.”
We both stare at him.
I roll my eyes. “Hey, dude, she made us tea. Sit down.”
“It’s getting late.”
“Oh, right, we wouldn’t want you missing out on your beauty sleep,” I drawl, all irony and spines.
“Dammit, Riddick.” He throws me a pissed-off look, and I shrug.
What?
“Why won’t you stay?” Brylee asks quietly.
Ryan’s face stills, like water when no wind is blowing. “I shouldn’t have come at all.”
Ouch.
“It wasn’t part of your schedule,” Brylee says, gripping the counter behind her.
“No, it wasn’t.”
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“Neither was helping Riddick look for his brother, or rubbing his ass.”
Ryan chokes a little. “No.”
What the fuck. “Sorry you rubbed my ass off schedule, man.”
“Shut up,” he growls, and I do, not sure why.
Or why my dick just got harder at the command.
“Ryan—” she starts.
“This was a mistake. It won’t happen again,” he snaps, and turns around to go. We both watch his broad back and long legs as he strides out of the kitchenette and into the living room, opens the door and lets himself out into the night and snow.
“So…” I close my eyes briefly. “This is the guy you’re after. How is that going? I’m guessing you have a plan?”
She looks like an organized kind of girl. I mean, hell, she apparently knows Ryan’s work and fun schedule by heart.
She’s quiet. She turns to put some cookies on a plate and places it on the table. “I’m moving to Phase Three.”
I grab a cookie, ignoring the stupid sting of anger at the thought she wants him, still wants him, and not me. “Of course. Good thought. Phase Three.”
Whatever the hell that means.
***
“Why are you here?” I ask her later, after drinking the tea—now I’m sort of grateful to my parents for never having any at home—and eating the stale cookies.
“You want me to leave?”
“No, Bry. Just…why did you come? I didn’t think you liked me.”
She shrugs, a slight roll of slender shoulders. “Just because I can’t go out with you doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”