Page 19 of The Most Perfect Wrong

“Hey.” Ryan turns around, but after ten seconds, he turns back, his expression shifting slightly, like something’s bothering him. “So… do you and yourfiancéhave any fun plans this weekend?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest.

I take a deep breath. “Yeah, actually, we do.” I glance at the barista before meeting Ryan’s eyes again. “We’re trying out a new restaurant tomorrow night.”

He scoffs. “And do you two actually date each other, or is it more of an open relationship where you sleep with other people? You know, like back inNewport?”

I glare at him as we inch forward in line.The audacity. “I wasn’t engaged in Newport, Ryan. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Not my business?” he murmurs. “I’d say it’s definitely someone’s business to know if the person they’re about to sleep with is in a relationship. Engaged or not, you never said you were involved with someone. Would’ve been nice to know before I decided to sleep with you.”

“Why are you so hung up on this, Ryan? It’s not like you were complaining when you were in between my legs.” The words are out before I can stop myself, and I feel a jolt of satisfaction with a tinge of regret.

“Jesus Christ, you’re something,” he mutters, turning to the barista just in time for his order. “Can I get a sixteen-ounce latte?” Then, before scanning his phone over the reader, he turns back to me. “What are you getting?” he asks, his voice deceptively casual, like he didn’t just call me out a moment ago.

“You’re not buying my drink.”

“Why not? You didn’t have a problem with it in Newport.” He turns back to the barista and pays for his drink. Without another word, he steps aside, waiting for me to place my order.

I feel my face flush with irritation. “Can I get a twelve-ounce latte?” I ask, hyper-aware of his gaze on me. I pay and followhim to the other side of the counter to wait for my drink. “I didn’t ask for you to buy me drinks in Newport. It’s not my fault you were so desperate to get laid.”

“Oh,God. That’s rich. Because I distinctly remember asking you on a date. You, however, couldn’t get your clothes off fast enough. Does your fiancé know about our little rendezvous?”

I stare him down. “Again… I wasn’t engaged.”

His eyes narrow. “Oh. Sorry. So, your boyfriend was cool with you hooking up with random guys?”

My jaw clenches, a hint of nausea rising to my throat. But I keep my voice steady. “I wasn’t sleeping around. It was a one-time thing.”

“Sure it was.”

I can feel my composure starting to crack. My blood is boiling—a cocktail of anger, frustration, and the maddening fact that, despite everything, I still find him attractive.

Both of us have our arms crossed.

“You can judge me all you want. You don’t know me.” My voice is laced with irritation.

“Oh, I know enough.”

“You know I could report you to HR for this, right? This conversation is completely inappropriate for work. And honestly, I’m feeling a little harassed.”

Ryan scoffs, shaking his head, his tone edged with bitterness. “Yeah, I guess you could. But then what? You’d have to explain why you slept with me when you were in a relationship. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want that out there.” He takes a step back, his eyes flicking away for a moment. “Look, I’m not here to make your life hell. But damn, Cooper, you could’ve been honest. It’s not like I would’ve pushed for anything if I knew you were involved.Youwere the one who pushed for it.”

We glare at each other. What was once pure sexual tension is now layered with sheer hostility, and I’m not backing down.

He grabs his latte, his voice softening just a touch. “I get it—you probably have your reasons. But I’m not the bad guy here. I never was.” With that, he turns to leave, pausing only to add, “See you around.”

He walks past me, and exits the café, leaving me standing there, flustered and furious, heat rising in my chest with every breath. My hands tremble as I grab my coffee cup.

The nerve.Fuck him.He must think pretty highly of himself to treat people like that—especially at work.

Any attraction I once had is completely gone. He’s notthatgood-looking.Jesus, who am I kidding?No matter how much of a smug ass he is, the way he affects me is unnerving. I hate that I even care what he thinks, but I do. Maybe it’s because he saw me at my most vulnerable, or because I had more fun that night than I have in a long time. Or perhaps it’s because a part of me knows that what he’s accusing me of is partially true. I’d broken up with Brad—but had I really?

I take a deep breath and, with coffee in hand, I head back to the conference room to meet Jason. He’s planning to have me go over some tasks on the company software before we prep for a meeting that I’m helping lead.

I’ll just have to steer clear of Ryan. That’s not impossible, is it?

* * * * * ?* * * * *

“What the hell is his problem? Such a dick, right?” I say to Casey. I’m FaceTiming her, having just finished venting about my encounter with Ryan yesterday. I’m out on the balcony, keeping my voice low. I don’t want Brad to hear—he’s inside, working.

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