Page 103 of Playboy For Hire

I crushed my lips to his, and after a moment, his moved in response. I was so hungry, so desperate, to kiss him again. My tongue searched his mouth, tangling with his, trying to make a home there, trying to tell him I never wanted to be without him again.

I felt his body pressing against mine, firm and strong. His hair curling around my fingertips, warm and dry. His stubble under my lips as they roamed across his jaw and down to his neck while I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close.

“I love you too,” I whispered in his ear.

Tears were leaking from my eyes now, but I didn’t care. Ryder undid me. He reached inside me and saw something there worth loving. He untied a knot I’d been carrying so long, I’d gotten used to the tightness, to the cramped little life I’d been living all these years.

“Really?” he said, his voice a little muffled since his mouth was pressed to my neck.

“Yes, really.” I pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye. “I probably shouldn’t, with the way you’ve been acting, but I do.”

I smiled to take the sting out of the words, but Ryder winced.

“That’s the thing, though. You’re right. You shouldn’t love me.”

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Because you’re out of my league. Don’t you get that? You’re smarter, older, more accomplished, and gorgeous, andyoucharm the pants offme. You could have anyone, and one day you’re going to realize that. You’re going to meet someone who’s a better fit for you, and you’ll feel bad about it, but you’ll dump me, and you’ll be right to do it.”

“Ryder, I—” I shook my head, smiling ruefully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you an idiot.”

“But Iamone, and that’s the problem. You have a law degree. I’m barely getting through college.”

“Who cares! College? Grades? None of that stuff really matters.”

“It did for you. You wouldn’t have your job without your degrees. And I heard how your dad talked about you, how proud he was of your grades.”

“He’s my dad, Ryder. Of course he’s going to be a dork about my grades.”

“But my dad isn’t. And yours probably wouldn’t like me either, if he knew how dumb I was.”

I stared at him, begging him to see what I saw, to understand just from the way I looked at him how amazing I thought he was.

“I don’t know how to get you to see,” I said slowly, “how smart you really are. I’m honestly baffled that you don’t realize it. You are the most perceptive person I know. You can read a room in an instant, and you’re confident in any social situation because you always know what needs to be said and done. You’re constantly thinking ten steps ahead of me, analyzing levels I’d never dream of. Maybe you’re not a wizard at macroeconomics, but who is? You’re still the person I’d come to with any problem.And the sheer amount of stuff you justknowis mind-boggling. I wish I could spend time in your head. I picture it like this grand library with marble arches and high windows and row after row of bookcases and filing cabinets and I just… I could wander around there for ages. You’re not just smart, Ryder. You’re brilliant.”

He stared at me, his eyes full of unshed tears. “You really mean that?”

“I really mean it.” I squeezed his shoulders. “I love you and that giant brain of yours, even if it does sometimes decide it can predict the future and try to break up with me for no reason.”

He laughed sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“I love you too,” he said. There was something almost shy about it, like he hadn’t just said it two minutes ago. “You’re sure it doesn’t bother you that I’m so much younger than you are?”

“Five years. When you’re eighty and I’m eighty-five, I don’t think it’s going to make that much of a difference.”

The smile he gave me then was so tremulous, so full of hope, that my heart broke all over again.

“You think we could make it until we’re that old?”

“I think we could try. I think I’d like to try. Ryder, I haven’t felt this way about anyone in—” I shook my head. “I was going to say a long time, but I think the right answer is ‘ever.’ You make me feel wanted. You make me feel like there’s nothing wrong with me. You don’t know how rare that is.”

“I do,” he said, “because that’s how you make me feel too.” He wiped a hand across his eyes. “God, allergies.”

I laughed. “I’ve heard the ragweed is really bad this year.”

“Ragweed is in the fall. But yeah, let’s go with that.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on mine. “I’m still afraid you’re going to get sick of me.”

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