“I am.” I nod like ten times, but I don’t even care. He’s seen my crazy side several times now and still wants to spend time with me. Someone liking me despite that is always the ultimate goal.
“Good.” Ryan tilts his head toward the fridge. “Want something to drink?”
“Water, please.”
“You got it.” He grabs two glasses from one of the cupboards and fills them up at the built-in water dispenser of the fridge.
My bladder complains at the noise of the running water. “Would you mind if I used your bathroom?”
He turns around to face me. “Sure. It’s down the hallway, the first door on the left.”
“Thanks.”
The bathroom is simple in gray and blue tones, and more importantly, it’s clean. Everything I’ve seen of the house so far is mostly neutral tones and minimal decor. There’s some art on the wall, but even that’s very simplistic. It’s the opposite of my mom’s colorful and busy place, but I kind of like it. It’s soothing and peaceful.
I take care of business and wash my hands in the sink. Despite knowing better, I examine myself in the mirror, flinching at my reflection. Shit, the area around my eye is still red and angry and will probably turn into a nice shiner overnight. The bandage only adds to the horror show.
The fact that Ryan told me I’m beautiful while I look like this and still wants to spend time with me and get to know me is a small miracle. One I’ll happily take and hold on to.
Once I’m done, I walk out the door and glance to the left where I caught a glimpse of a cozy living room with access to the backyard. My curiosity carries me closer to the patio doors, and I stare outside at the well-kept backyard and the large pool. It’s covered, but its rectangular shape must be great for swimming laps.
Footsteps echo on the wooden floor until I know Ryan must be right behind me because his body heat is practically warming my back.
I gaze at him over my shoulder. “Sorry, I was curious. It’s beautiful out there.”
“Thank you.”
“Having a backyard is the one thing I always miss in New York.”
“I can’t imagine not having one.”
I sigh and face him. “It sucks that it’s still cold or we could sit outside.”
“I can get you a sweatshirt and turn on the heaters outside if you want.”
“Really?” I hold on to his arm and bounce a little on my toes. “Do you want to?”
He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Sure. Why don’t you grab whatever you want to eat from the kitchen while I take care of the heaters and get you something to wear?”
“Sounds perfect, thank you.” Before I overthink it, I go on my toes and kiss his cheek. Then I speed walk my way back to the kitchen, not wanting to stand there and wait for his reaction. Friends—or hopefully soon-to-be-friends—can say thanks and kiss the other on the cheek, right?
Totally normal.
My mouth waters the moment I walk back into the kitchen and get my first real glimpse at all the food Ryan got.
“It says on the boxes what’s inside.” Ryan’s voice carries through the house from wherever he is.
“Oh, nice,” I mumble to myself. I probably would have missed the stickers on the outside of the boxes.
The big containers have stickers on the outside that say apple cinnamon, blueberry Greek yogurt, lemon Greek yogurt, oatmeal banana and chocolate chip, and then there are two smaller containers with almond butter chocolate oat cups and peanut butter energy balls.
Holy wow.
Ryan’s footsteps echo down the stairs, and he walks into the kitchen with a black sweater in his hands, grinning at me. He puts it on one of the barstools and walks up next to me. “Did you find something good? I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got all of my favorites.”
I just stare at him, so he continues, “If nothing sounds good, I can get you something else, no problem.”
That helps me snap out of my daze. “What? No. Everything looks delicious. Too delicious, actually. I can’t decide what to try first.”