Surrendering Series Box Set

“You always see the best in people,” he said, reaching the end of the line and walking back toward me.

I snorted. “What the hell are you talking about?” I was super critical of just about everyone, including myself.

“Oh, don’t tell me to be down on myself and then turn around and do the same thing.” It was not the same thing, and I told him so. I set my scissors down and decided that I basically wasn’t going to get anything done while he was here. So I gave up.

“Whatever, Ryder. You don’t know me.”

“I know a lot of things, Sloane.” The way he said it made shivers go down my spine. The good kind of shivers. He was getting to me, and I both loved and hated it.

When it came to relationships, I preferred to have the upper hand. Be the one in control. I tended to go for guys who liked me more than I liked them. It was easier to get out when I wanted out without too much heartbreak. But Ryder was a whole different story. He was the kind of guy I normally would have avoided. The kind of guy who had heartbreak written in his eyes. The kind of guy who would leave scars.

I picked up my scissors again and pretended to go back to cutting the fabric, but I was really just trying to distract myself from how he made me feel.

He paced around again and I cut a few more pieces. I was only halfway done, but I put the scissors back in their designated cup. In my studio there was a place for everything and everything had a place. I was known to go off into a rage if things weren’t put back in their proper spots.

“I’m starving,” I said, even though I wasn’t. I needed a good excuse to stop and leave. I didn’t want him wandering around anymore.

“You sure you don’t want to finish? Or maybe I could go out and pick something up and bring it back?” He was back to being totally sweet. Not many of the guys I’d dated had been into what I did. I mean, they were supportive but not a lot of them “got it.” Ryder did. He asked me about the ins and outs of how things worked. He’d even talked about wanting to learn to use a sewing machine.

“No, that’s fine. My eyes are killing me.” Sometimes I forgot to slow down until my body made me. I was trying to be better about cutting myself off when I’d worked too much.

“Great, where do you want to go?” I walked around the studio, shutting off lights, putting things away, and cleaning up.

Ryder waited by the door.

“Need any help?” he asked.

“No. I have my routine. I’m good.” Even if he did help me, I’d just have to go back and make sure he’d done it right, so that would take extra time anyway.

I finally got everything done and opened the door so I could lock up. I turned on the alarm and then closed the door and turned the key.

“Wow, it’s like securing a bank vault,” Ryder said. I hoped he hadn’t noticed that I’d stood in front of the keypad so he couldn’t see me punching in the numbers. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him . . . okay, I didn’t trust him. But not because he was going to break in for nefarious means. It was only to prevent him from showing up when I was unprepared like he had in my apartment.

“There are some very expensive fabrics in there. And I have this paranoia that some disgruntled ex-employee is going to try to break in and set the place on fire in retaliation, which is why I change the code every month.” I often got phone calls from interns saying that they’d forgotten the code. It was four fucking numbers. They weren’t that hard to remember.

“Are you really that mean?” he asked.

I gave him a look. He must be kidding.

“Sorry I asked. I’m guessing you give them that exact look.” Probably. I wasn’t quite sure what my face did when I was pissed, but it got results. I had a really good bitch face.

We walked downstairs and out into the cold. If fall was any indication, winter was going to be a bitch this year. Or maybe it was going to be really cold at the beginning and then it would taper off and get warm. Not likely in New England at all. Wishful thinking.

“Sooo, where to? I’m not really familiar with this area,” he said.

“Well, that depends on what you want to eat and how much you want to spend. If you want to eat cheap shit, there’s plenty of places, but if you want anything edible, we’re going to have to walk.” Just like with the tea the other day, decent food required a trek.

“That’s fine. I don’t mind walking. Are you cold?” My face was, but I wasn’t going to walk around with a ski mask on. The rest of me was covered in a thick coat; I had leggings on under my dress, my boots were lined, and I had a scarf and mitten set. I took winter fashion very seriously.

“I’m good. In case you couldn’t tell,” I said, holding up my mittened hands.

“You’re smarter than I am,” he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets.

“If you need some gloves or something, I can get you some.” I wasn’t a knitter, but I knew where to get some nice ones for a good price.

“You don’t need to do that. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself. Sort of.” He put his hands back in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. It was really fucking windy, and I was glad I’d put my hair back so it wasn’t flying around my face and getting stuck in my makeup.

“What are you in the mood to eat?” I asked, and he raised his eyebrows at me. Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.