“You need to stop because you’re really good at this, and I’m actually considering it,” I reply, shoving more clothes into a bag.
He grins. “Yeah, well, just make sure you’re packing a swimsuit because there’s a hot tub. I’d say bring some of that sexy lingerie you got, but I’d rather you just be bare for me.”
Saying it like that makes it hard to see, like steam fills my vision. It doesn’t take much for me to realize that this won’t hurt anything, and he’s also right—we need some time playing as a couple before any real decisions are made.
I’m also completely sold on the thought of being removed from it all.
“Alright, I’ll come. I have Friday off, anyway, along with the weekend.” The rush of butterflies flap aggressively in my stomach once more.
I just can’t say no to this finely muscled bastard.
“Good,” he replies with relief, leaning in and kissing me, his nose pressing against my cheek as his soft lips move with mine. His firm hand moves to the nape of my neck to hold me close to him.
I utterly melt at his touch.
We hear the sound of a car’s high-pitchedbeep, and we slowly separate. Ryder’s warm, deep voice soothes my frayed emotions. “Trust me, I won’t put up with pulling away for long.”
I give him every ounce of my unarmed heart as I meet his gaze. “I only consider pulling away so you can focus… But I want you. Like, really bad.”
He kisses my forehead as we hear the door open. “Me too, Jules.”
J U L I E
* * *
Ryder wasn't joking—Andrewpushes that guy like he’s training to become a Navy Seal—and the fighter only texts at night about the goofiest shit. I can’t even begin to describe how much I love it.
He even snuck a deep, sensual kiss—while swiftly sliding his hand in between my thighs as a quick tease—after a massage for him that morning, smiling to himself as he left the room while I stood there, flustered.
I can’t get over how much he enjoys my body reacting to him. It’s like he constantly wants to remind me how easily he takes control.
It honestly motivates me to pull up my big girl pants and figure this shit out with Andrew. I’m on Ryder’s team, dammit, and Andrew can’t take me off if the fighter wants me there.
We still have two days before the weekend, and I spend most of that Wednesday moving into my new rental and playing podcasts, finding myself just looking around with a smile on my face. The house is a one-bedroom, completely renovated place with a small fenced-in backyard, styled in a modern farmhouse design. It clearly costs more than my half-sunken home, but my loans only have two thousand left, and the rental isn’tthatexpensive, all things considered. It’s too small to charge a premium.
And it’s not the end of the world to get new furniture. Ididneed it.
If I have to be honest with myself, I’m trying to choose not to be worried aboutanything. It helps that Andrew hasn’t texted me yet. Which means either Heather has remained quiet, or it’s the opposite and Andrew is currently sharpening his pitchfork.
Either way, as long as it doesn’t ruin this weekend, I’ll find a way to survive it.
* * *
I wake up that Friday morning bright and early when I realizetodayis the day I’m going off on an adventure with Ryder.
Shaving very close to the skin in the shower, I take my time to lotion thoroughly after.
I don’t grab any condoms, as I’m not even sure what the hell he likes, and I’m on birth control, anyway. Not that that replaces things like getting tested, but he seems like a guy that will make sure he’s clean.
Just take it one step at a time.Breathe, girl.
I’m a nervous wreck, given the implications this has with Andrew. But will it be worth it?Abso-fucking-lutely.
There’s also a slight pressure with meeting new people, only made more intense since they’re friends of Ryder’s. But isn’t that worth it, too? To see what company he keeps?
I have my bags packed from the night before, and by eight in the morning, I sit at my new island with a cup of coffee in hand, make-up on, and my left leg tapping up and down. I want it all: the intimacy, the sex, the banter, and even sleeping next to him at night, maybe with his arm casually draped around me.
After downing my coffee and rinsing out the mug, a white SUV parks in front of my house, and a larger black truck pulls into my driveway. Everything inside of me comes to life, especially when I hear the truck door shut, watching him through my front window. Ryder nears the house, eyeing it as he walks up to my door. He wears black jeans, leather boots, and a gray shirt, all with a thick black barn coat.
