Page 88 of The Most Perfect Wrong

I hesitate. “I don’t think that's a great idea after last night.” His gaze is intense and it melts my insides.

“Okay… But at least stay for a bit. Have some breakfast… and I can make you coffee.”

I nod. “Alright. If you’re sure it’s okay?”

“Of course it is. I don’t want you to leave yet.”

I smile, then with embarrassment, I ask, “Do you know where my shirt is?”

He points to the other side of the room, where my shirt lay crumpled on the floor.

“Did I…?” My face scrunches into a grimace.

“Yep.” He nods. “You sure did, Coop. Just took it off right in front of me.”

I wince. “Sorry.”

He stands. “It’s not like I’m mad about seeing you in your bra.” He smirks, cocking a brow. “I’m just mad I couldn’t do anything about it.”

I smother a smile.

Me too.

I follow Ryan into the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter while he makes us lattes with the espresso machine.

He hands me mine. “Thanks. Do you have a Tylenol?” I ask, rubbing my temples.

“Yeah.” He grabs the Tylenol and leans across from me, coffee in hand, resting his elbows on the counter. His gaze locks on mine. “So… do you want to tell me what happened last night?” His eyes are warm, full of concern.

I sigh. “Not really… but I will.” He waits for me to continue. “When I got home last night, Brad wasn’t there, and long story short, through text messages, I found out that he had synced my phone to his laptop.” I look down at the counter, blinking rapidly, the invasion of it—damn, it stings. I meet Ryan’s eyes again. “Anyway, all of our text messages were right there on his computer.”

Ryan takes a deep breath, straightening. “Shit.”

“Right?” I say, barely pausing for breath. “And do you know what hit me before the anger? The guilt. Like it’s just this habit I can’t break.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Can you imagine? I felt guilty about the texts you and I exchanged. After everything he’s done, somehow I’m the one feeling bad. It’s ridiculous.” I shake my head, still reeling. “Then the anger hit—how dare he, you know?”

Ryan watches me, his gaze steady, grounding me. I can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking, but he’s listening intently, and his presence feels like an anchor.

“So, before I really had time to think, I grabbed a bottle of wine. Started drinking… I just wanted to block it all out… I was too numb to even process it.” I take a quick breath, needing to keep going. “And then, this moment of clarity just hit. I was sitting there, thinking,What the hell am I doing?Why am I here? Why am I waiting for him to come home, to face… whatever twisted thing he has planned?” I bury my head in my hands for a second, groaning.

Ryan shakes his head in disbelief, his brows furrowed.

“And that’s when your text came in… about seeing me on Monday.” I look up at him, shrugging, the words tumbling out. “I don’t know. I didn’t think, I just left, with one thing on my mind.” I lock eyes with him. “You.”

Ryan walks over to me. “Come here,” he murmurs, pulling me from my chair into his embrace. His strong arms wrap around me, and he pulls me close, his chin resting on my head. “I’m glad you came here.” He kisses the top of my head, pulling me closer.

I melt into him, relief coursing through my veins.

And I’ve never felt safer.

But as his hand runs soothing circles across my back, he exhales deeply, breaking the silence. “Coop… I need to say this. I know this—us—whatever this is… it’s not exactly innocent. I know I’ve crossed lines I shouldn’t have. And, I’m sorry.” He pulls back slightly, just enough to meet my gaze. His eyes are sincere, filled with something raw. “I care about you too much to pretend otherwise. But I also know this isn’t fair to you—or even to him. Not until you figure out what you really want.”

His words hit me like a soft blow, painful but somehow comforting in their honesty. I nod slowly, the weight of his admission settling deep in my chest. Then, before I can stop myself, I whisper, “I’m not sorry.”

His eyes widen slightly, searching mine, but I don’t look away. “I should be,” I add softly. “But I’m not. Not even a little.”

A smile tugs at his lips as he pulls me back into the hug, holding me like he’s trying to shield me from the storm raging in my life. “I just want you to be okay.”

For the first time, I let myself believe, if only for a moment, that things could be different—that maybe happiness isn’t out of reach. Ryan’s presence feels real, stable, honest. I know he wants me, but if this were only about sex, he would have taken advantage last night—any other guy I’ve been with would have.

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