Wasted Love with You (Wasted Love 1)

“My Uber driver forced me to get out when we were halfway down your driveway, and no other driver would accept the ride to pick me up.”

“That’s not a good enough reason to walk away from me.”

“Are we talking about you or the interview?”

“Both.” He looks over his shoulder. “I could’ve sworn you had a car of your own. Wasn’t it something different?”

His attention to detail catches me off guard again.

“Why didn’t they want to drive any closer?” I don’t allow him to change the subject. “Why did they behave that way?”

“I don’t know, I’m not a psychologist.” He smiles, and it sends butterflies fluttering against my chest. “Maybe they’re old friends of mine.”

“Old friends would’ve said hello.”

“Then maybe they’re old enemies.”

“Mister R—”

“Ryder.” He cuts me off. “I want you to always call me Ryder.”

“Well, Mister Ryder—” I try to look away from his eyes, but it’s impossible when he stares at me like this. Like he’s seconds away from pulling me into his arms and finally kissing me, giving me much-needed closure on what that would feel like.

What ‘we’ would feel like.

“I’m patiently waiting for the rest of your sentence, Miss Jane.”

“Since you’re playing the semantics game with me,” I say, “I think I’ll go inside and get back to my life where you don’t exist now.”

My hand trembles as I press the key against the lock, failing to fit it inside the hole again.

“Stop.” He gently grabs my hand, instantly calming me. “I’m not a danger to you, Autumn.”

“What about to others?”

“No comment.” He twists the key in the lock and pushes the door open for me. “Can I come inside with you for a few minutes?”

“Yes,” I respond without thinking. “No, I mean. Hell no. I don’t know you… I know nothing about you.”

“Then ask me whatever you want.”

Like you would ever tell me anything. I shrug, looking over at his car. “How many cars do you own?”

“Far too many.”

“Okay, thanks for proving my point so soon,” I say. “That’s not a genuine answer.”

“Because you didn’t ask me a genuine question.” He looks into my eyes. “Ask me something you actually want to know.”

“Those Uber drivers.” I return to the scene he keeps cutting. “Every single one of them, and the customer service manager, are scared shitless of you. Why is that?”

He narrows his eyes, but he says nothing.

I step back and glance down my doorway, mentally measuring how long it would take me to get inside and away from him.

“There was an electrical fire several years ago.” He speaks before I can take my chance at another step. “My entire estate burned to the ground within hours and several innocent people lost their lives in the flames.” He pauses. “I took my time rebuilding it from the ashes, took care of the victims’ families, but some people are still having a hard time letting go of what happened that night. It wasn’t exactly a pretty picture.”

“That’s the entire story?”

“That’s the gist of the plot.” He clenches his jaw. “That’s why it’s marked as an Uber ‘no-go’ zone. It’s a well-known tragedy for anyone who has lived here for over eight years. Anything else you need to know?”

I don’t bother asking why none of that information popped up during my search yesterday.

“How old are you?”

“Eleven years older than you,” he says. “What else do you want me to tell you, Autumn?”

His question hangs in the air, and I struggle to think of another one. I also struggle to think of why I should continue standing in this cold for another second.

I step inside and allow him to follow me.

“This doesn’t mean that I know you,” I say.

“I would hope not.”

While I hit the lights, he shuts the door, and now the living room feels too small for both of us. The air is too thin to handle the heavy onslaught of tension.

Unsure of what to do next, I set my wine bag on the counter.

Ryder walks over and pulls the bottles from my bag, reading the labels.

“A private night of partying ahead?” he asks.

“It’s a party for one.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Relaxation. I’ve had a very eventful week and I have a personal matter that I need to handle.”

“I can help you with that.”

“I can do it alone.”

He slowly looks me up and down, turning me on with ease. “What exactly is the personal matter?”

Finger-fucking myself while thinking of you.

“It’s research for a new job interview that won’t leave me stranded via Uber,” I say. “No offense.”

“All taken.” He looks beyond offended, as if he’s about to say something else, but a soft beeping sound suddenly fills the room.

“Device fully charged… Device fully charged.”

The platform where I was charging my vibrator announces my actual plan for the night, and my cheeks flush deep red.

Ryder walks over and picks it up, rolling the pink cylinder across his palm. He looks over at me, a knowing smile spreading across his face.