Page 46 of Dirty Delivery

A soft knock at the door pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts.

“Savannah? You okay in there?” Rylan’s voice cuts through the chaos in my mind, the deep tone soothing.

I hesitate for a moment before answering. “Yeah, I’m fine.” It’s a lie, of course, but what else am I supposed to say?

The door creaks open slightly, and he steps inside. His presence instantly fills the room. He’s wearing that damned panty-melting smirk, but there’s a gentleness in his eyes that makes my heart ache.

“You don’t look fine,” he says, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, mo stóirín?”

I cross my arms, trying to put up some kind of defense. “Just . . . thinking.”

“Dangerous,” he teases and steps closer. “Want to talk about it?”

His sincerity catches me off guard, and I chance a glance at him. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I blurt out.

He tilts his head, studying me like I’m some kind of puzzle he’s determined to solve. “Because you deserve it. Because you’re worth it.”

My throat tightens, and I look away, unable to meet his gaze. “How can you know that, Rylan? You don’t even know me.”

“Don’t I?” he says softly and steps even closer. “I know you’re strong, even when you don’t feel like it. I know you’re brave, even when you’re scared out of your mind. And I know you’re trying so damn hard to keep it together, even though everything around you is falling apart.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. The air seems to thicken around me, heavy and oppressive, pressing against my chest like a weight I can’t lift. How does he do that? How does he see me so clearly?

“Rylan . . .” My voice cracks, and he closes the distance between us. His hands gently cup my face, warm and steady, his calloused palms grounding me. His thumbs brush my cheeks softly, a quiet reassurance that he’s here with me.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Savannah,” he says, his green eyes boring into mine. “I’m here. For you. Always.”

And just like that, the walls I’ve spent years building crumble completely.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I blink them back furiously. “I don’t know how to do this,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to let someone in.”

“You’re already doing it,” he says, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks. “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter how long it takes. No matter how hard it gets.”

His words undo me. Wholly. And finally, I let myself lean on someone else. Rylan pulls me into his arms, holding me gently, preciously cherishing me.. I let myself believe it—at least, for now.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Savannah

The soft glow of the fire in the living room casts flickering shadows on the walls, making the cozy space feel even more intimate. After dinner and a glass—or two—of wine, Rylan and I settle on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, the warmth seeping into my skin. It’s a moment of peace—and maybe a little too much silence for my liking.

“Alright, Mr. Mysterious,” I say, swirling the last bit of wine in my glass. “Let’s play a game.”

Rylan raises a brow, his smirk as infuriating as ever. “A game? And here I thought you wanted a quiet evening, mo stóirín.”

“Quiet is overrated,” I shoot back and set my glass down. “Truth or dare. Let’s go.”

He chuckles as he leans back on his elbows. “Alright, I’ll bite. Ladies first.”

“Truth,” I declare.

His green eyes glint with mischief. “Why did you really invite that asshole over to your house that night?”

My cheeks flush, and I grab a pillow to smack him with. “Wow, way to dive right in,” I mutter, but his teasing grin doesn’t waver.

“Answer the question, Savannah,” he says, his tone playful but a firmness lines the words.

I sigh, dropping the pillow. “Because I was lonely. And frustrated. And maybe just a little stupid.”

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