“You’re going to stock my fridge for me?”
“Yeah.” Light falls over his side and torso as he sits next to me on the bed. “You got a problem with that?”
“Will you cook it for me too?”
“Try and stop me.”
My smile spreads over my cheeks. I scoot closer to him. Until my thigh is pressed against his. And my shoulder is against his. And I can feel all the warmth of his skin against mine.
His fingers brush my thigh. He draws circles over my skin, a mindless gesture that screams I love you.
My fingers skim his temples. “You already put in your contacts?”
He nods.
“I don’t get Ryan in glasses?”
His brow rises with surprise. “You like them?”
“Of course.” My voice gets dreamy. “I love them.”
“Don’t have them on me.”
“Will you wear them at your place?”
“You like them that much?”
My nod is the definition of enthusiasm.
He brushes a stray hair behind my ear. “I don’t know. Can you convince me?”
My sex clenches. Yes. I should convince him. I should drop this coffee and convince him right now.
I restrain myself.
Take a long sip. Offer him the mug.
He shakes his head. “It’s yours.”
“I think I love you.” My cheeks flush. “I mean, um, it’s just an expression.”
“I know.”
I hi
de behind my mug.
“Do you?”
I do. And I’m pretty sure he knows. But I’m not ready to say it yet. Not so straightforwardly. “I have a strict policy. No declarations of affection for twenty-four hours after sex.”
“The oxytocin fucks with your judgment.”
I nod. “Mmm. I do like an educated man.”
He chuckles. “College had its uses.”
“There is the oxytocin. But it’s more that it’s easy to love someone who’s making you come.” I slide off the bed. Leave the cup on the table. Spin on my heels so I’m eye to eye with Ryan. “Usually, it’s twelve hours. But I had to double it on account of how great the sex was.”