Page 41 of No Rhyme or Roughing
You’ve always been like a sister to me.
I blew out a breath, flipping onto my back to stare at the outdated popcorn ceiling. If what he said was true, he’d have kept in contact all these years. I’d know more about him than the fact that he couldn’t dance, would do anything for his team, and had the softest lips with the roughest touch.
That was enough.
I had to talk to him. Kicking off the covers, I scrambled out of bed and was in the hall before I could stop myself. Starlight filtered in through a skylight above, providing the only light. On silent feet, I passed the other two bedrooms, stopping for just a moment to make sure there was no movement inside.
When I reached the living room and the sleeping man on the couch, I almost turned around, but then he sighed. His hand skated down his bare chest, dragging the blanket with it until it stopped at the waistband of his plaid pants. I waited for him to keep going, hoped he would as I held my breath.
But he didn’t.
My gaze drank him in, squinting to make out more of him in the dark. His bronze chest, defined by corded muscles, drew my eyes downward to the large hockey stick tattooed on his side. A dragon wrapped around it. It was an odd combination, but I couldn’t stop perusing theintricate scales, couldn’t stop my hand from inching forward until it feathered over the taut, inked skin.
Soft words escaped his lips, but I couldn’t make them out.
I was about to keep exploring when a hand darted out to snatch my wrist. Ryder’s eyes slammed open, locking onto mine like two black holes, using gravity to draw me in. He blinked a few times before relaxing his grip. “Sydney?”
What was it about this man that made me so bold? This wasn’t me. I was the girl without words, the one who ran from her feelings. I couldn’t let myself fall into the trap of how I used to be, so I stepped back. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Couldn’t sleep?” He rubbed his eyes and sat up, swinging his legs around to make room for me on the couch.
“Not really.” I didn’t dare sit beside him, and he seemed to sense that I wouldn’t.
One corner of his mouth curved up. “I’m hungry. You hungry?”
Saved by the captain. I nodded, clearing my throat. “Yes, exactly. That’s definitely what I came downstairs for.”
His smile grew as he got to his feet. “Let’s see if there are any Gonzo leftovers.”
Gonzo, I’d learned, was what they called Rowan because of his last name, Gonzales. And he was the cook of the house. I followed Ryder toward the kitchen. We were just going to ignore the fact that I’d been touching his tattoo. Great. Good. Not awkward at all.
Ryder flipped on the lights and opened the fridge, bending down to take a look. It took me a moment to realize he was humming to himself. I doubted he even noticed. The sound was soft, definitely off-key, and it made me smile.
He straightened, turning to me with such disappointment in his eyes that for a moment, I worried something was truly wrong.
“What is it?” I stepped forward, ready to help if he’d tweaked his back or something.
He sighed, long and loud. “Your asshole brother polished off the rest of Gonzo’s stir fry.”
A laugh popped out of me. Ridiculous men. I wasn’t really that hungry, but growing up with Teddy taught me most boys were bottomless pits, especially athletes.
Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes and started opening cabinets until I found what I was looking for—Teddy’s stash of kettle corn. The same stuff we’d brought on the boat. We’d never admit it to him, but it was delicious.
Ryder lifted one brow, taking the bag from me. “Playing with fire, kid.”
There it was again.Kid.“Don’t I know it?”
We brought the entire bag into the living room and sat facing each other on the floor between the couch and the cherry-wood coffee table. Neither of us appeared to have any desire to turn on the lamp nearby. Instead, all we had was the light spreading out from the kitchen.
Ryder ripped open the bag, scooped out a handful of popcorn, and shoved it in his mouth.
“Hey, share!” I lunged forward and swiped it from him.
His hair, sticking up in multiple directions from sleep,looked wild in the shadows, a bit ridiculous. I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t, busying myself with chewing popcorn instead.
Swallowing, I studied him for a moment. “Sorry I woke you up.”
He shrugged. “Sydney, love, I’d choose to sit in the dark with popcorn over sleep any night.”
