Ryan leans against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, and those mesmerizing eyes locked onto me.
It jolts me back to when we shared moments together, friendlier ones, when I thought he liked me before revealing his true intentions.
Corralling my feelings and garnering some sense of control, I cross my arms and sit on the bed. “It’s not going to charge itself.”
He pushes off the doorway and pads across the room. Despite the tension knotting my throat, I watch him move. There’s a grace to it, a predator’s fluidity that awakens the butterflies in my stomach.
He stops in front of me, hands fumbling with the phone. I can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not, but he’s intent on standing right in front of me.
Usually, I’d just let it go, but for some reason, tonight, I just can’t.
“Excuse me.” I waggle my eyebrows. He looks down at me, sitting on the bed.
“Yes?”
“You know what you’re doing. Cut it out.”
“Come again?” He seems genuinely confused.
“You know. This…” I swat my hand forward, intending to make a gesture, and accidentally whack his junk.
Okay. Not good.
But damn, are the rumors true? Because what did I just feel?
